#and what's the point of LIVING for someone like HIM IF HE CAN'T LOVE!!! for a romantic THAT'S THE WORST KIND OF DEATH!!!!!!!!

[bazingabitch2000]

Tori Spring and Michael Holden head canons:

Michael and Tori are both autistic, though they express it differently. Michael's traits appear more outwardly visible, while Tori’s are subtler, perhaps because Solitaire is narrated from her perspective. We see her tendencies through her internal thoughts, actions, and reflections, all filtered through her own lens. I also think Michael may have ADHD as well.

Michael and Tori are in a queerplatonic relationship. It is NOT a romantic or sexual relationship. Their kiss at the book's end feels out of place; their connection doesn’t need that romantic signal. Queerplatonic relationships like theirs are as valid and significant as romantic ones. Michael is Tori's person, and Tori is Michael's person. I think what they have is beautiful, and it shouldn't be meddled with.

Michael is one of the only people who is able to make Tori laugh - and I mean REALLY laugh. She doesn't hide her face so much when she laughs around him. Sometimes, she laughs in spite of him. She can't help but admit that he cracks her up. She secretly loves that. Michael also secretly loves that. Sometimes they'll spend hours laughing until their faces and tummies hurt, and one of them either decides to finally go home, or they both just fall asleep together.

Tori just borrows Michael's sweaters whenever. She gets looks from her mum, Charlie, and the others, and she knows what they think. She knows they think that her and Michael are together. She doesn't bother to correct them because it's too exhausting, and they'll never get it.

Tori is cold - always. No matter what time of year, or how many layers she's wearing, she is always cold and always complains about how cold it is. Michael is the opposite of this, and is always lovely and warm. He doesn't even have to wear loads of layers. He's always pretty warm. Michael teases Tori for the fact that she's always freezing cold.

Michael makes Tori watch films she's never watched, and once she does, she reluctantly admits that they're actually great films.

Once Tori watches a new film that Michael has recommended, she makes a playlist based on the film, or a favourite character of Michael's from that film.

Tori finds people who reject pop music as “too mainstream” insufferable. She can rant about it for so long that the room falls silent.

Michael is never surprised when he sees that Tori is online at like 2 am. He teases her about it, and begs her to try and go to sleep at a respectable hour, but she never gives in.

Tori refuses to speak with anyone at breakfast if she can avoid it. She makes a point of making sure she can eat breakfast alone in the kitchen or eat it in her room. Either way, her headphones are on as she listens to Coldplay or Radio Head. If someone interrupts her, she glares and reluctantly removes her headphones.

Sometimes, Tori dissociates while she's around her friends. She finds herself questioning whether everything going on around her is real. Whether it's actually happening. Her friends don't seem to notice.

Tori's closet is full of hoodies, while Michael has a growing collection of sweaters.

Tori drinks everything with a straw.

Michael likes to give Tori small doodles, drawings, and notes. Tori keeps all of them and looks at them every once in a while when she can't sleep.

Tori absolutely refuses to ever use the overhead light. She will avoid using it at ALL costs.

Tori gets very bad migraines a lot. They even make her lightheaded and on the brink of fainting. She shrugs it off or plays it off that she's fine around others, but Michael can usually tell. Michael brings paracetamol or ibuprofen always, just in case. He also reminds Tori to drink water.

Tori lives off buttered noodles/pasta, mac n' cheese, or nuggets and chips a lot of the time. She can't cook to save her life.

Sometimes Tori finds herself watching game shows like Tipping Point and The Chase. She genuinely enjoys watching them and tries to play along.

Tori refuses to buy a new phone until her current one is on it's last legs. She just can't comprehend why and how people will buy a new phone once a new model is out.

When she was younger, she would get in trouble for cutting her hair on her own with a scissors.

Tori almost always has a blanket with her in her house. She has plenty of blankets in her room. When she's in the living room, you can bet she has a blanket.

In school, Tori was either the one telling everyone to “shut up” or sitting silently by herself. She was never part of the noise.

Michael would feel bad if any of his teddies were left out, so he would sleep with all of them, or have some sort of rota/routine and sleep with a different one each night.

[lemotmo]

Wow. Just wow, anon.

Q. You're the worst kind of pathetic bitch because you're a bitch who supposedly knows how to read and interpret the media. You supposedly know how to market and sell bullshit but you can't even make your own bullshit sound believable. You're trying so desperately to portray Tommy as a plot device when that's clearly not what the show is going for. Seems as though you're actually the one who doesn't know the meaning of the term. You're just jealous because we can see the bigger picture here and you and the little trolls like you are desperately trying to cling to a fanfiction Oliver and Ryan have sold you all. I cannot wait to rub their first I Love You in your retched little face.

A. So I've held onto a couple of asks here and there just waiting for the break-up occasion. Fa la la la bitches it's the breakup occasion. First of all I don't understand why you all are so obsessed with my degree. My degree is irrelevant. What I do for a living is irrelevant. Higher education is not necessary to follow elementary level story telling. And Tommy was the definition of an elementary level plot device. Allow me to explain, anon.

For the sake of this answer I will not be referencing past Tommy because that part of him, right or wrong, was, in the end, irrelevant as far as the show was concerned. Minus the nonsense of making him Abby's ex. I get it it's funny but it's not as clever as the show thinks it is. We first met Tommy during the air rescue when he was flying the helicopter for Buck, Eddie and Chimney. This would be the beginning of what every Tommy scene thereafter would in one way or another be about. Buck and Eddie. Let the plot device begin. The next time we hear about Tommy it's because he and Eddie are hanging out and Buck is jealous. But why is Buck jealous? Who is Buck jealous of? Let's examine that shall we. We see Eddie talking to Buck about hanging out with Tommy. We see Buck complaining to Maddie about Eddie hanging out with Tommy. Flying to Vegas to watch MMA fights, talking about classic cars, all hobbies invented for Eddie by the way just so they could give Tommy the same kind of interests, and about how 'cool' Christopher thinks he is. No mention of Buck himself wanting to hang out with Tommy. Nope. Buck is entirely focused on the Eddie of it all. We find out that Buck doesn't like basketball and we find out that Eddie has asked him to come to the bball pick up game with him number times. Once Buck finds out that Tommy is going he decides he wants to join as well. But not for the reason you all believe. Cut to the fire station and Eddie talking animatedly on the phone to someone, you will note that we are never told who he is actually talking too. I will also point out that this episode is entirely from Buck's POV, something the show made sure the audience was aware of. So the shine that radiates from Eddie throughout the episode is how Buck sees Eddie, not how Eddie is necessarily really behaving. Buck had a basketball delivered to the station, something that Tommy would never be aware of, but something Buck desperately wanted Eddie to be aware of. No part of anything that has occurred so far has anything at all to do with Tommy as far as Buck is concerned. Let's cut to the bball game, and Eddie once again basically being human sunshine, because again, that's how Buck sees him. Buck watches Eddie and Tommy laugh, high five and generally just enjoy goofing off, a role that Buck usually occupies in Eddie's life. He gets jealous, and Eddie gets hurt. Fast forward to Buck's loft and Tommy's speech about not wanting to come between them, a scene by the way where Eddie's name is mentioned, I believe, something like 13 times, someone feel free to correct that math. Tommy himself is surprised by Buck saying he was trying to get Tommy's attention because it was obvious to everyone, except Buck, what he was actually jealous about. Tommy kissing Buck was the definition of a red herring, anon. The entire episode was about Buck trying to get Eddie's attention. Buck just couldn't properly understand everything he was feeling, or maybe starting to become aware of, so he allowed himself to misplace those feelings and believe maybe they were about Tommy. They weren't. And the show wasn't subtle about it.

Now the first date. Buck was nervous, understandably so. He had never been on a date with a man before and in typical Buck fashion word vomited himself into an awkward situation. He became even more awkward once he knew Eddie was there. Making matters worse instead of being understanding of Buck's nerves, especially considering he had been there once himself, Tommy made a closet joke in front of Eddie, knowing that Buck wasn't ready to tell Eddie anything. He then called himself an Uber and left Buck standing alone on a curb. So for your score card at home Eddie was there for the first meeting, he was the center of the focus for their first kiss conversation, and now he was a major presence on their first date. So he's 3 for 3 in other words, anon.

Bachelor party. Buck was excited and went overboard but the show made a point of showing the audience that Eddie matched his energy throughout the episode. He played dress up with him, even going so far as to suggest their costumes. The show also made a point of having Tommy make a brief appearance, noticeably with no effort into his wardrobe choice, before quickly sending him to a fire so Buck and Eddie could party all night together. Buck and Eddie were the entire point of the bachelor party. Tommy was just there to juxtapose Eddie with Buck vs Tommy with Buck.

2nd kiss at the hospital. They needed a nice moment. Made sure to show Eddie's reaction to it.

The season finale. Buck spent the entire episode wrapped up in Eddie's storyline, a space he occupied from 7x5 on mind you, and then had one cringe as hell dinner date where his bf made a daddy sex kink joke.

An entire off season of nonsense Cameo videos, that you all paid for. Unending online abuse and hurling slurs at anyone and everyone who was perplexed as to what the hell any of you were talking about because we hadn't seen anything you all were ranting and raving about actually happen on screen. Month after month of bullying and threats. Watching as Oliver, Ryan and crew members were mercilessly attacked for not promoting and fawning over Lou and your nothing of a ship. Watching you all desperately try to convince people you were so many more people than you were. One desperate play for attention after another. Ryan getting death threats. Threatening jurnos jobs. You name it you all did it and then had the nerve to scream victim when people fought back. Meanwhile your god sat back and watched you all do these things and instead of intervening, he decided to charge you more for the rhetoric. His behavior was the definition of unprofessional and gross. Your behavior was just as grotesque. No one owes you an apology.

Season 8 premier. One scene with Buck and Eddie. The scene absolutely could have gone on without him, he was just there. He served no purpose except to look like he didn't belong. Because he didn't. That was the point.

Episode 5. Every single scene where the show had the opportunity to place Tommy in the position of partner they put Eddie there instead. The hospital. Tending to his face at the loft. Eddie Eddie Eddie. It was always Eddie.

Finally episode 6. The inevitable outcome. The plot device served his purpose. He opened the door for Buck to his bisexuality. And that was all he was ever intended to do because everything else about his scenes were about Buck and in one way or another Eddie. Tommy was never the point of reason for a single scene he was in. He was never the fucking point of anything. 7x4 and 8x6 were directed by the same guy for a reason. 7x4 was how Buck sees Eddie. Full of color and light and warmth. 8x6 was the juxtaposition of that episode with how Eddie sees himself. Dark and broken and unworthy. Buck and Eddie are the point. Ending the episode with the two of them on the couch, this time with Buck in the dark (his clothes )and Eddie in the light ( his shirt). Their storylines have been intertwined since 7x4 for a reason. Their storylines end at the same place. Together. The show could not have made it more obvious, and it didn't require a fucking degree to see. It's not our fault you chose to pretend you didn't see it. Your plot device is gone so go ahead and follow him out the door.

Thank you Nonny! As always... 🙏🙏🙏

No comments on this one. Just let Ali speak. She has been bottling up a lot of things over the last couple of months. This is her moment.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

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Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok? 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke. 

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling. 

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.  

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry. 

But his words… his words hurt the most. 

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face. 

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him. 

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked. 

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor. 

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces. 

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds. 

Until his voice brought you back. 

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…” 

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons. 

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself. 

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight. 

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back. 

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid. 

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so. 

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well. 

Back home. 

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls. 

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss. 

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room. 

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest. 

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab. 

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries. 

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought. 

But when you finally woke, it was dark again. 

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry. 

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess. 

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily. 

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after. 

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you. 

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break. 

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself. 

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity. 

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else. 

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing. 

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again. 

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling. 

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core. 

You gasped, chest tightening. 

“No,” you whispered into the fabric. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand. 

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words. 

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!” 

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room. 

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin. 

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how. 

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace. 

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air. 

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers. 

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered. 

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror. 

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move. 

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving. 

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable. 

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance. 

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it. 

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you. 

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed. 

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you. 

Then you smelled it. 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?” 

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath. 

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks. 

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery. 

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?” 

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze. 

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead. 

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.” 

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable. 

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away. 

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-” 

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered. 

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled. 

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt. 

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said. 

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own. 

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin. 

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft. 

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…” 

“Like I always needed you?” 

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak. 

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own. 

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie. 

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them. 

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating. 

[muppeddie]

yknow what. tommy was buck's most functional relationship to date actually. yeah it wasn't the most exciting he had ever had and they didn't click that much but tommy was not about to move to another country or scared of what it meant to date a guy who risks his life for a living, he didn't grow to resent buck because they were fundamentally incompatible, he basically said "i would have loved to move in with you down the line but I can't because /you/ don't really want to. you just don't know it yet." because buck has misconstructed the idea of a romantic partner down to the bones of "i need someone that's my girlboyfriend because everyone has a girlboyfriend and it's all im missing to be complete." except he already takes everything that a partner could give you from eddie. a home, reassurance, family, someone who understands him and cares for him, someone he calls when he's down, someone who takes him to the hospital and sits with him and tells him when he's being stupid. that's eddie. buck knows it's eddie. so everything every other love interest does for buck will simply bounce off the walls of his beautifully insane brain and he can never understand what's wrong. why did tommy leave him? he didn't ask for much. (unaware that's the exact point). he's not looking for a partner he's looking for a paper-thin placeholder. imagine what it will feel like once he realizes he can just put the right name to the man who's been there all along and call it a day.

[ipleadbritney]

could we please have ↻ FLIP FLOP for the first kiss scene in three-sixteenths???

thank you dear!!! 💕

- kitty 💕 (aka three-sixteenths’ biggest fan)

for @utopiastri who's really the sweetest!! ask game post here thank you for letting me revisit three-sixteenths in oscar's pov!!

3/16 the first kiss, flip flop

“Uncomfortable?” Lando repeats. 

“With my magic. I don't want to make you throw up, or, you know.”

Oscar himself is one wrong move away from throwing up, actually. Yesterday threw him in for a spinner. Every time he blinks, he conjures up the walls of Monaco around him, waiting and waiting. 

He hoped to get some rest today, to let his magic stretch over the new place. Nico Rosberg mentioned in an interview once how telekinesis in Monaco is different. Everything's lighter. Oscar wouldn't mind trying it. 

But Lando called, and, well. Oscar was already skimming teleportation crash guides in the middle of their call.

Lando and curses is a horrible combination. It's taking everything in Oscar not to panic.

Lando clears his throat. “I asked you to come here so you could probe at it. And I'm not throwing up. Magic reflects the person, right? I answered your call for a reason, and I'm glad I did.”

How can Oscar not panic when Lando just says the sweetest things like it's nothing?

But someone has to be calm between the two of them, and Oscar's not going to pass the responsibility on the person who's cursed.

He rubs at the empty space where his suppressor usually is. Calm down. “I'm glad you answered my call, Lando. I really am.” 

Better him than anyone else. If Oscar's right, then—

True Love's Kiss is a powerful spell that has wavered in popularity in recent decades. Most historians agree it is common for any spell to have crests and troughs. This particular case, however, has stumped some of the wisest living magical minds. 

Has humanity polluted our world to the point of a Great Spell extinction? Do we even need True Love's Kiss anymore?

Oscar forces a smile, ignoring his thoughts. Not much a textbook can help them with, right?

Lando smiles back. Oscar loosens up. 

Maybe it's not True Love's Kiss. 

What if it is?

It doesn't have to be. Oscar can just kiss Lando right now. Fix the curse after. Free Lando's wrist. Explain somehow along the way that he like Lando enough to think he'd break True Love's Kiss if it came down to it.

It won't. 

Lando's phone vibrates and lights up with a text notification. Oscar barely makes out the name Charlie. 

“Aren't you going to read that?” Oscar asks.

Lando shakes his head, still smiling. Dazed. “No, it's probably a stupid notif—” he checks his phone “—fucking finally, Charlie's awake.”

He's mouthing the words as he reads them, something that hasn't escaped Oscar. Cute, of course, but also. The text can't be that long. 

Lando sits up straighter. He's re-reading the text. Again and again.

Worry's bubbling up inside Oscar. Unfortunately, his worries have a nasty way of materializing through his magic.

So does Lando's. There's buzzing in the air, like static TV.

He tightens the control on his magic. He won't be of any help to Lando if he's a mess on his own.

After what must've been the 20th re-read, Oscar asks, “What did Charles say?”

“I need to kiss someone Italian. To break the curse, I need to kiss someone Italian.”

Lando all but throws his phone to Oscar for him to check. Charles’ texts confirm Oscar's suspicions, or at least part of it. Being right is such an overrated emotion. 

Can TLKs be bound by other conditions apart from the whole yeah you're my one true love? Kiss-curses that aren't TLK are even rarer. Leave it up to the Monaco Grand Prix to attract generational magic users who can randomly cast a kiss-curse.

What if Charles misheard it? Misunderstood. Mistranslated. 

What if he didn't?

“I hoped it would be different,” Oscar starts. “Not that you'll have a hard time finding someone Italian to kiss, no, but uh, Sophie will have our heads. Because it'll cause a riot, maybe. Then they'll resurrect us so Sophie can have our heads again.”

Please let the floor swallow Oscar whole.

“Thanks, I guess?” Lando says, and his face is so open, you can see every single emotion he's feeling right now. 

Oscar wonders if Lando can read him the same way. Like how he's no longer surprised when Oscar sticks close to him in public, anticipates it. Leaves a little bit of space for Oscar to slide through. It's the type of understanding and clarity Oscar's always wanted.

“You know, I'm 3/16 Italian,” Oscar blurts out. 

Lando half-splutters, half-laughs. “You don't have to cheer me up, Osc."

“I didn't say it to just cheer you up. I'm here to help. That's why I'm here, yeah?”

For the first time since coming here— which is the first time he's ever been in Lando's apartment and everything is Lando Lando Lando —Oscar's mind is clear. 

“Reckon it'll work?” 

“Won't know if we won't try."

Oscar can still backtrack. He can salvage the threads of their professional relationship. Nevermind that their professionalism has turned into Lando practically sitting on his lap during meetings because his seat doesn't “seat right”. 

But Lando's beaming. “Sure. Let's do it.”

Huh. It can't be that easy. It can only be that easy if Lando likes Oscar back. He doesn't. Probably. “Oh, okay.”

Nothing happens. Is it up to Oscar? Well, Lando's handcuffed to his bed, so. Oscar needs to, good God. Oscar needs to.

“Do you think it's supposed to be, like…” Oscar took three magic-related electives and none of them talked about breaking possible kiss-curses.

“Kiss on the mouth?” Lando’s smile grows even wider. Does he? Like Oscar back? “You're the magic nerd here.”

“I'm really not.”

“Go big or go home,” Lando says.

Suddenly Lando hooks a finger on Oscar's collar and pulls him closer. Oscar kneels in front of Lando, one of his legs bracketed by Lando's thighs. Lando's pretty like this, looking up at Oscar. 

Oscar touches Lando's cheek. “This okay?” he murmurs.

Lando closes his eyes and leans into his touch. Nods.

Oscar presses a soft kiss on Lando's mouth. The buzzing's gone, has been for a long time, maybe. 

He pulls back just the slightest, but Lando's kissing him. Oscar is reeled right back in, deeper this time. Lando holds him by his waist. Gentle but secure.

Oscar's dreamt of this before, but those didn't. Get the details correct. Lando's sighs. His taste. His magic.

Fuck, Oscar's own magic. He can feel it slipping out of his control.

Lando parts open his mouth, a permission for Oscar to take. How much can Oscar take? How much is he willing to take?

There's a clicking sound and a wash of strange magic, bursting then fading away.

The handcuffs. Oscar almost forgot about that. 

They move apart, which is a bit hard with Lando's fingers curled up in his shirt.

The curse leaves behind a cloud of gold and green glitter. A few specks land on Lando's nose then melt off. 

“I'll call you first if I ever get cursed again,” Lando says, laughing. There's a halo surrounding his head. Oscar's magic. 

“I'm 1/16 Chinese.” He returns to his spot at the foot of the bed. “Call me even if you're not cursed?” 

“Don't jinx it, mate.”

Oscar's not going to jinx it. No hexes or curses or any love spells, either. He doesn't trust his magic to not influence Lando. He puts his suppressor on, and it sucks the fucking air out of the room. 

“Sorry,” he tells Lando. “It's, I've got my suppressor back on.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Broke the curse already, didn't we?”

Lando tilts his head, assessing. “We did.”

What do they do now? 

Lando takes the lead, as he usually does. “Want lunch? I'll reserve us a spot, so don't leave. Give me, like, 15.”

As if Oscar would ever say no to lunch with Lando. “I'd like that, sure. Let's get lunch.”

If it hadn't been a kiss-curse, they would've probably kissed some more. Oscar tries not to be too hung up about it.

[changingplumbob]

With the pancakes cooked the pair sat down to breakfast.

Silver: Did you sleep well

Glenn: Yeah I did actually. Is that like an old person thing to ask

Silver: I'm not that old

Glenn: You won't tell me your age so in my brain that translates to old

Silver: *chuckling* I'm trying to be mysterious. So you're really okay from the whole bachelor challenge now? You're not just pretending

Glenn: I thought it wasn't good practice to discuss ex's with someone attractive that you can imagine developing feelings for

Silver: You only imagine? I must be doing something wrong

Glenn: No! You're not- I mean... your brother was the first time I properly fell in love so it was a big thing to get over but- I don't want you to think I'm pining for him when I'm not so that's why I'm trying not to mention him

Silver: Good. Because I do like you Glenn. I don't really have any flowery prose to say it in but being around you feels...

Glenn: Amazing? Mind blowing? Like you want to both listen to me prattle on and kiss my mouth to make me shut up?

Silver: I was going to say comforting but sure, let's go with those

Glenn looked down at his plate and felt warm inside. He didn't want Silver to leave tomorrow, but he had to remind himself Silver was still here for now. He was attracted to Silver but saying plainly what his feelings were... he had no experience with that. Relationships were still foreign to him after so much of his life was spent keeping people at arms distance.

Silver: So what do you want to do today then

Stay sitting here talking. Get lost in your eyes. Finally get a glimpse of the abs you claim to have.

Glenn: Well the weathers nice so a run could be good. Then maybe some fishing

Silver: Oh I love fishing! That sounds like a good plan

Glenn: Got any tips you could give me? My fishing skill is still rather low

Silver: I guess you'll just have to wait and see

Glenn: Ah, do you want a proper shower? I need to get changed but I can wait-

Silver: As much as I enjoy your abs I'll let you get changed first. I may have been living outside for decades but I can still be a gentleman

Glenn got changed quickly and left Silver to do what he needed. Trying not to think about what Silver looked like undressed under hot water he headed back downstairs and got startled seeing a visitor at the door.

Glenn: Ophelia! Why didn't you knock

Ophelia: Oh I saw you letting me in so I knew I didn't need to knock for it to happen

Glenn: Right. Well uh... this isn't really a good time for visitors

Ophelia: *quietly* Because of Silver

Glenn: What? How did you know about him? I put extra shields over the house

Ophelia: Ah Glenn... I see the future remember?

Glenn: So... you've seen him sticking around? Staying?

Ophelia: Not exactly. Can I come in?

Glenn let her inside and was filled with an undefinable nervousness.

Ophelia: You know I can't tell you exactly what I see

Glenn: *sighs* Because it's like cheating

Ophelia: You remembered! I wish Drusilla would remember, and Carmine, and-

Glenn: Ophelia?

Ophelia: Hmm? Oh yes, point. Well I've seen enough to know what his name is and that he's here at the moment

Glenn: He told me he's not the best at meeting new people

Ophelia: Oh I don't meet him now, just talk to you. But it's tricky. So I'm telling you this stuff as your friend okay? Not as a fortune

Glenn: Now you're making me nervous

Ophelia: Everyone heals at different speeds from different hurts and running can be a survival method. It doesn't mean someone doesn't care about what they're running from. And just because someone runs doesn't mean they don't want to come back, okay? Sometimes we need to meet people on their terms. Can you get the door for Miranda?

Glenn: *confused* Can I get the door for Miranda?

Ophelia: Yes she'll be here in ten seconds. Nine, eight...

Glenn got up and sure enough when he got to the door he opened it in time to let Miranda and a box in.

Ophelia: You finished it

Miranda: Considering you saw it finished before I did I think it's odd you need to ask

Ophelia: *shrugs* I am odd

Glenn: Is the box for me

Miranda: Yes

Ophelia: No

Miranda: So you wanted me to make it to give to Glenn but it's not for Glenn

Ophelia: Don't worry, he knows who to give it to

Glenn opened the given box. Inside was a cellphone.

Glenn: I already have a phone

Ophelia: That's why it's not for you. Miranda say the stuff you're going to say

Miranda: Ah, right. Well I combined the latest technology and a little bit of magic in this baby. Basically it has satellite reception capabilities combined with magic stability. So wherever the person who has the phone is, they'll always have signal and be able to call and text

Glenn: Reception, anywhere?

Miranda: Mmhmm. Whether they're on a glacier, or deep in a cave, or smack bang in the middle of a forest. This phone will get a signal, the person will be reachable, as per Ophelia's request

Glenn was in shock. He didn't even know if Silver knew what a phone was but... it was so much better than relying on snail mail when he left. Which from this gift it seemed like he would be doing as planned tomorrow. Ophelia got up and pulled him in to a big hug.

Ophelia: Stay strong Glenn

Glenn: Thanks Ophelia

Ophelia: Come on Miranda. Glenn is busy now

Miranda: He's literally just standing in his living room but whatever floats your boat. Later Glenn

Glenn waved them off and steeled himself to go upstairs and talk to Silver.

Previous ... Next

[secondhand-lions]

looks @ u like this

using this as an excuse to talk about sirenity because they're easily one of my Guys Of All Time and iiiiii don't get to talk about them a whole lot

- is an excellent musician (virtuoso! but primarily anything with strings!) and artist! he also has synaesthesia (which, like their dyslexia, was less severe before The Benny Incident) and perfect pitch and they're an uncannily good mimic.

- fully knows and understands RobCo Termlink code and can, therefore, talk with the vast majority of robots/androids/computers in the wasteland

- there is not nearly enough time to go into their sex life. they've been around. very casual about sex and relationships to the point where it circles back around to become an intense soul-rending need for People and Connection and then it circles back around AGAIN to being very casual. two things can be true at once

- met and talked with benny -> "well. goddamn that's a lot to think about" -> met with House -> "even more to think about. shit." -> Courier Walking Instinct kicks in -> muscle memory takes them back to Primm -> Johnson Nash knows enough about them to recognize the Walk To Think state they're in, accepts that this is a short meeting -> Sirenity keeps going, still on muscle memory to the entrance to the Divide -> thats the thing that snaps them out of their sorta half-dissociative state -> "fuck i'm hungry" -> back to Primm for Ruby's casserole -> turns around, sees the ruined drive-in -> "y'know what? yeah. a movie sounds good right now." -> OWB (during which their mental state is surprisingly good! a creeping dread of familiarity at the sight of the painted old world flags and the descriptions of the other visitors, but yknow! that's fine! then they have a breakdown upon hearing Ulysses' voice again.)

- indeterminate amount of time and gameplay -> Dead Money -> stick around in the mojave for a bit before finally relenting and admitting that they have to back out and recover from the Cloud for a bit ("i have to go clear my lungs") -> Honest Hearts

- casual friendly situationship/QPR with Arcade, kinda a cool older cousin/sister figure to Veronica, good friends with Cass and Raul, visits Lily as much as they can. i'm not really sure of where they stand with Boone. they very badly want to tell him "i think you can be proud of the work you put into something without being proud of what the thing was or did or became" but like... Boone wants an ending, a neat little all-loose-ends-are-tied finish, and Sirenity is living proof that that sort of thing doesn't just Happen. they never were good at delivering endings, anyway.

- post-game otp is sirenity/ulysses but it's open because they both know that they can't always provide what the other needs/wants and love is more of a verb than a feeling anyway

- good friends with the Khans, Followers, and Kings!

- was genuinely really hoping that Benny would stick around after their conversation. not even mad about getting shot or jumped by his bodyguards.

- uhhhhmmmm OH YEAH Mobius was. such a refreshing presence for them. even if they do have to stand weird to keep eachother out of their blindspots. "crazy fuckers missing an eye who experience more visual inputs than should be there" solidarity. she helps with his messed up sensors :]

- honestly i think Sirenity's VERY very postgame jaunt to the Commonwealth is. just straight up in their canon now.

- scars from the Big Mt Spine Removal and Subsequent Un-Removal look like train tracks :) because i think it's cool

- whenever someone gets incredulous about how much stuff and people and places they know of or about or just straight up know their reply is "i have Lived a Life"

- that post about aragorn son of arathorn being sad(lonely) BECAUSE he knows so many people, not despite knowing so many people or knowing so many people despite being sad(lonely)? yeah that applies here. always missing someone. pulls them in so many different directions and yet! and yet! they wander down a new path. courier walking instinct.

- oh yeah they definitely have something set up so the Followers can use the resources of Big MT. that's probably their most regular delivery

- ANOTHER THING! pre-benny incident, the NCR had put a bounty on one of the Khans (haven't thought of a specific person) and Sirenity just. took the wanted poster and moseyed on over to their camp to warn them ("you...? why would you do this?" - "well, if someone i cared about had a hit put out on them, i'd sure as shit want to know about it") and that's how they meet Jessup and McMurphy

- and then DURING the Benny Incident, during the "maybe the Khans don't look the people they kill in the eye-" line, Sirenity shoots Jessup a Look that says "you work with this guy???"

- needless to say they were. very blasé about mortal danger. still is. if there's a multi-perspective story they're really going to try and find the other perspective(s)

yayyyyy okay i think that's it!

Nobody including me posts about their ocs enough so please please please reblog reply or whatever with some oc tidbits!

[urdadssideho3]

lowk a long one, lowk hate it.

Akaashi smells like clean sheets and linen. A subtle soothing scent that wraps you in warmth when you’re close to him. One that smoothes over your nerves and lulls you into relaxation.

He's smelled like it since middle school because if there's one thing to know about Akaashi, it's that he loved the constants in life. He was like the walking embodiment of the saying 'If it's not broke, don't fix it.'

And so his scent became nostalgic, an encapsulation of every high school memory—good and bad. To you, Akaashi's scent itself was the relaxed evenings when he had no practice and late nights spent cramming for early morning exams. Everything about your life before graduation was tied to him in that way.

After graduation the two of you had gradually lost touch, your own lives pulling you away from each other. Intern, the cocoon of comfort you'd relied on for so long was now gone.

You'd smelt, what felt like, every perfume, cologne and detergent on the planet to find it but you never could. No matter how similar the scent was, there was always something missing.

Yet here you were again, on a late October evening at yet another cologne bar looking for that same nostalgic scent. Akaashi's scent.

"You know I think I'll just let it go," you sighed, handing the woman behind the counter the test strips back. "I'm sure they'll come out with an even better scent soon anyway." You gave her a half smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. She laughed lightly.

"Are you sure Miss? We can keep looking if you'd like."

You shook your head, "No, it's alright, really, I've kept your attention for far to long as it is." you responded apologetically. You just wanted to go home at this point. It had been a long week at work, with a pot of brewing office drama that seemingly never ended and you were more than ready to roll yourself up in blankets and relax.

With a final tap of your fingers against the display glass, you pushed your body off the glass and turned, already thinking of the promise of hot tea, and fuzzy blankets that awaited you at home as you took a step away from the cologne counter. Enamored with your thoughts, you don't notice the looming figure attempting to weave past you until you've walked straight into them.

A soft gasp escapes you in surprise as your bodies collide, knocking the breath from your lungs and leaving your face practically buried in this stranger's chest. Your mind is pulled back to reality as you stumble back, pushing yourself away from the stranger in an attempt to put distance between the two of you once more.

"I'm so sorry-" the apology quickly begins to spill from your lips, but you're quickly cut off by the stranger.

"It's alright." Their words come as a deep familiar rumble, that makes your eyes widen and your head spin because you'd know that voice anywhere. Your neck snaps up to look at his face and you freeze. Your mouth opens and closes for a minute as you try and find your voice. The man that you had wandered in here because of, someone whose company you were sure was all a distant memory now was now standing in front of you once again.

It takes you a moment but finally, you're able to gather enough of yourself to at least muster up a singular word. It's all you can seem to manage in your state of bewilderment as you look up at him.

"A-Akaashi?" It comes out as more of a question than a statement, as if you can't believe your eyes, your voice just barely above a whisper, so low you aren't even sure he's able to hear you but by the way his eyes flick down to meet yours you know you're mistaken.

Akaashi has always had a good poker face, but something about knowing him for such a long time made his emotions an open book to you. Even after so many years, this moment is no exception. His expression doesn't change, not a single twitch out of place except for the slightest twitch down at the corner of his mouth, but you don't miss that detail, nor do you miss the way his eyes just barely widen as he recognizes you and surprise washes over him.

Then you hear his voice for a second time as he says your name with that same confused tilt at the end of it that you had used. It sends another wave of surprise over you, although this time it doesn't daze you the way hearing his voice had the first time.

You nod at the sound of your name as if to say 'Yes, that's me'.

You each take a quiet moment to take each other in and you begin to commit each detail about him to memory.

Akaashi had visibly put on some muscle since you last saw him, the print of his honed arms vaguely visible from under his thick turtle neck sweater. He'd let his hair grow out and a pair of round-lensed glasses sat atop his nose. You thought they fit him nicely. His features seemed sharper, more defined, a harsh contrast from the soft look you remembered him with. He was no longer the childish high school boy you remembered.

"It's been so long." He mused quietly.

"It has," you affirmed his statement, your mind still racing as you looked at him.

There's a stretch of silence where his eyes are on you, patient and waiting for your words. He can see the gears turning in your head, and he watches as you open your mouth as if to say something, then pause hesitantly, and close it again. Still, he waits for you as you try to find the right words that express to him just how much you've missed him and how much you've thought about him since the two of you parted ways. The words don't come though and ultimately you pursue your lips and settle for small talk.

"How have you been?" you finally ask.

"I've been good." He answers, "You?"

"I've been good as well." There's another stretch of awkward silence after your response. Akaashi's eyes drift to the floor awkwardly, and then to whatever it may be behind you, trying to avoid awkward eye contact.

"Do you want to get a drink?" you blurt, and the way his eyes are darting back to you to meet yours has your face heating up, your cheeks flushing a light shade of pink with embarrassment.

His answer takes a moment to come, but there's no hesitation in his voice when he finally speaks, "I'd like that." He agrees. The words make you smile a bit, and you look back up to meet his eyes. His own eyes crinkle at the edges, indicating the start of a small smile of his own and as if with a mind of its own, he reaches out, placing a hand on the top of your head and gently ruffling your hair the way he used to back in middle-school.

You laugh swatting at his hand as you begin to walk past him, towards the exit, and he follows closely behind with a small chuckle of his own.

And as you two exit the shop, beginning to make your way to a nearby bar, settling into an old, and comfortable rhythm of soft conversation and sweet laughter.

A light breeze blows through your hair, carrying traces of the same familiar scent of clean sheets and linen. You take a deep breath in and suddenly you're back to those cozy Sunday afternoons, huddled in the corner of Akaashi's room and wrapped in a bundle of his blanket, while he makes tea downstairs.

Your eyes flick back to him, watching his lips move as he spoke, and the way his hair ruffled in the wind, and the curve of his nose, and the edge of his jaw. Everything felt right again.

[glisten-inthedark]

I’m watching a YT channel react to season 4 and it’s wild to me how people in the comments think that Will was “letting go” of Mike in the van scene and that this was the conclusion of his feelings for Mike because it’s “not meant to be.” Someone even called that interpretation of it “poignant.”

Like I’m sorry in what world is a gay boy sacrificing his feelings so the straight ship can be together “poignant” unless it’s not the conclusion of this arc and the real conclusion is his feelings actually being reciprocated????

And why even have him fall in love with Mike if that’s how they were gonna conclude it?? They could’ve just made him gay and allude to that by having him have a moment of tension with a boy at school in Lenora or maybe instead of Mike and him having weird awkward tension because of their mutual feelings for each other that only Will has come to terms with, have them be perfectly fine and have a boy Will’s crushing on be there too so he’s super distracted and self conscious or smth

And then instead of Will’s painting, if you want M*leven endgame and to not make it seem like Will’s in love with Mike, just have it so that El actually commissioned a painting from Will or some other gift that she didn’t have a chance to give him after Rink o Mania, and have Will still say that Mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake but have it be clear it’s coming from Will because this Will isn’t in love with Mike and wouldn’t be afraid to say that and wouldn’t hide it behind pretense

Just!!! There is literally no reason to make Will be in love with Mike just to show the audience that Will is gay. Like, it can’t just function as that. It can’t just function as only that. Doing that is needlessly cruel to Will. And I hope no one in the GA tries to argue that it was so “Will had something to do this season“ because I will scream lmao

I think I’ve sent some variation of this statement before in an ask but giving Will some rando love interest last minute will never be nearly as cathartic as a Byler endgame, and Will Byers deserves so much catharsis and joy after everything he’s been through

I can’t wait for people who thought the van scene was the conclusion of his feelings for Mike to have the shock of their lives in season 5

Hello! How are you?

I find it interesting that people think that the scene was Will "letting go" because is not "meant to be".

So this will become a rant, be prepared lmao.

Firstly, what you said is very interesting because there's a clear difference between what is said to us by Will vs what the show itself says.

Will thinks Mike didn't call (the show tells us that he's been trying to call nonstop but never could).

Will thinks Mike loves El (the show is literally telling us he can't even say it).

Will thinks Mike won't care about the painting if it came from him (Mike fucking lights up like a Christmas tree when he sees it and thinks it came from him).

Will is scared of being honest with Mike because he assumes he'll lose his friendship because Mike is in love with El (Mike literally nods when Will suggests something about being afraid to be honest with someone in reference to El but Will doesn't see it).

So there's point number one here.

Point number 2 which is the one I keep coming back to over and over again.

I can't think of a function for the Will is in love with Mike plot. None.

It makes absolutely no difference from a narrative standard. Like, you said it yourself.

He could be gay and not have these very deep feelings for his best friend.

If they wanted to give him a lot interesting that wouldn't feel cheap they could've done it already. I mean, they introduced us Argyle, Eddie, Chrissy (rip girl) AND Jason and you're telling me they couldn't introduce someone else? Bullshit.

I want the writers to sit me down and tell me exactly how is Will being in love necessary, at all. Is like you said, if he's there to fix a relationship he could do without being in love, is just have El actually commissioning the painting. Is not complicated.

And the irony of the van scene is that Will assumes is the conclusion to the ordeal. While he was jealous of El at first, in the end, when he saw Mike hurting and talking himself down he couldn't stand and did what he thought he had to. Will already assumes (as the audience does) that this is the end for him.

He just wants Mike to be happy, which is already proof enough that he loves Mike from the bottom of his heart and that even if he isn't happy, Mike is which is all that matters to him. That's love.

So Will already thinks is over, but the thing is, the more you look at it the less over the whole thing feels. Like, what do you mean ia over but there's still a huge ass lie to think about?

How is it over when El isn't even talking to Mike by the end of the season even after she supposedly heard what she wanted it to heat?

How is it over when is clear that Mike told Will they'd be a team and that they'd best Vecna together?

[jweekgoji]

I love your platonic hcs with five!! Can you make more please?:33

Yandere!Five/Reader [platonic/hcs]

tw: very soft yan!dad!five, reader described as child here, mentions of Five/Dolores romantic relationship, brief mentions of Five's past trauma, hints on eating disorders, overprotective behavior word count: ~900. a/n: Thank you for your request, Anon. It was good to write something about my old interest after quite a break. I made this is mostly based on information I had read months ago from some book. Tiny sequel for this.

Kinda sad that tua fics aren't as popular as before and slowly dying.

Let's ignore the ending and other moments we shouldn't talk and pretend like...everything ended well for the Hargreeves family! All the siblings mostly live separately from each other, but they still care for one another and meet on birthdays and other holidays.

Five meets a young, pretty lady during one of his undercover missions, and after that «love at first sight» trope, their relationship grows strong, leading to Five finally abandoning his job as an agent (honestly, good for him).

I really like the idea of Five having a quiet, peaceful life somewhere far away with his family. His wife is a popular fashion model and earns enough money for the family, while Five is the one who stays at the house, keeping you safe and raising the way he wished he was.

Five is scared to repeat the past mistakes his family members made; that's why I see him being extra overprotective with you. He wants to give you everything he never had in his childhood, and it often leads to you growing into some spoiled brat.

I can see him pausing for a moment and having that «wait...WHAT?» look when you reply with a sassy remark, and that's the moment he sees that you're basically becoming the tiny version of his young self. Part of him is proud, he knows that you will be able to stand up for yourself in the future, but the other part...he's not really happy to deal with someone who uses his own methods against him, as we can tell from the show (points at the other versions of Five).

Five is that parent who wakes up early in the morning to prepare breakfast for you. He has a sweet tooth, but he avoids giving you too much sugar, like I mentioned before. By the moment you wake up, you see a plate of eggs and bacon carefully formed into a smiley face with a glass of juice next to it.

I see Five spending a lot of time reading about parenting. He is well-educated enough in many fields, but it's just something he likes to do when he is free from house chores. Sitting in the chair with glasses on and a warm blanket laid on his lap, it's a heartwarming sight. Dolores will return from work later this day, only to see her husband having a nap in their little library and their child eeping next to him.

Five is especially careful with the food he prepares for you. After decades of loneliness in the apocalypse, he had few food choices. Every day felt like a constant survival, and the idea of you experiencing the same at such a young age terrifies him. He unconsciously gives you a little too much food, constantly asking “you need more?” just to make sure you're well-fed. Five might pay less attention to himself, but you're getting the best meal ever.

Five gives me the idea of that dad who will hold you close next to him 24/7. Yandere Five just can't bear the idea of you being somewhere away from home for more than an hour. There's a deep conflict in his heart, and his wife always tells him that it's fine. You're growing up, it's natural for you to try and separate from your parents, but this bothers him to insanity.

There's no more apocalypse, no more The Commission; the world is quiet now; there's no need for him to worry about. He never argues with you about it, the moment you leave your home to meet with a friend, your phone will cry from constant messages like “are you okay?”, “where are you now?”, “when will you go back?”. He needs to know it in case, well...just something happens, he's responsible adult, after all.

For most parents, Five seems like the ideal father figure, but he gets a little overbearing sometimes. When you snap at him, giving something like “just leave me alone!”, he would get quiet immediately. It is a significant difference between him now and in the past.

Usually he never lets people to dismiss him like that, he would have dragged you back and lectured you about disrespecting him, but now he's just sad. He will let you cool down, just to think what he has done wrong.

Five loves spending time with you, mainly because he never had the chance to spend some time with his own family. There were missions, there were trainings, there were constant fighting, etc., and after his retirement he plans to give his full attention to you. He knows a lot, from how to solve some difficult equations under 15 minutes to how to kill a person with a pencil, but it's not the same when the person whom you trust the most teacher you everything.

Reginald never bothered to spend a simple father and son moments, how to be a man and deal with various situations in his life, that's why he wants to teach you of something simple. He knows it's not as impressive, but it's quality time that matters.

[another-damn-fandom]

Theory about BJBJBJ

When it comes to the prospect of BJBJBJ, I've seen fans mention five things:

Lydia should realize her feelings for Beetlejuice.

Lydia and Beetlejuice should become a kick-ass team against something big.

More Delores, she was under utilized. (Even if that means some Delores/Rory.)

The third wedding has to be different than the previous two.

Beetlejuice can't be enthusiastic about the prospect of marriage this time.

Which all make sense. Rule of three, more bad ass character developments, fool me three times, etc.

But what if you combined them?

Here's what I'm thinking:

At some point, some how, Lydia confesses that she's had a devastating crush on Beetlejuice this entire time and has been too terrified to mention it. Either because she didn't want to disappoint the Maitlands, or Chuck and Delia, or just basic self preservation and the hopes that he'd go away. But something has happened recently and now she's got to admit it to someone. And how much it has screwed up her mental health for not admitting it and facing it.

The someone she talks to (Astrid? Delia? Jane?) mentions that she needs to talk to Beetlejuice about this in order to get on with her life.

Lydia agrees. Then she doesn't.

Delores shows up and now she has a way to drastically hurt/kill Beetlejuice. (Possibly with Rory's help.) Her first attempt to do so is unsuccessful, but it shows that the Ghost With The Most is on a ticking clock, unless someone comes up with a solution. He mentions this to Lydia and asks for her help.

She says, sure, let's get married.

He says it's not going to work this time.

Whatever Delores did, it closed a part of the original marriage loophole for Beetlejuice. Sure, there are other ways for breathers to bring the deceased back to the world of the living via marriage. But those require both the living party and the dead one to be desperately in love with each other, and BJ admits that Lydia's lukewarm feelings means he doesn't qualify for that.

Lydia, like a liar, agrees.

So they agree to team up together to save Beetlejuice's life. Lots of shenanigans in the world of the living while Beetlejuice hides in the world of the dead to ensure Keaton's No More Than 17 minutes rule.

Eventually the plot corners them into a situation where the only option is to get married. Lydia is in a black dress (important!), Astrid and possibly Delia are with them, and all is lost. But there is some sort of church or justice of the peace nearby and, with everyone but Beetlejuice aware of Lydia's feelings, they go for a Hail Mary play.

Beetlejuice fights them the entire time. The bylaws of the underworld state that it would kill Lydia, him, or both of them to attempt a loveless marriage right now. But he knows they're running out of options, perma-death is inevitable for all of them, and the romantic in him would like to die marrying the woman he loves.

So Lydia more or less drags a "We can't! Not that I don't I want to. We'll die! Ooo, nice wedding rings, babes. Nooooo!" Beetlejuice to the altar.

Bonus points if Lydia says something like "C'mon, c'mon..." or "Let's keep it rolling, rev!" during the ceremony to mirror what Beetlejuice said during the first movie.

The terrified officiant reluctantly, barely, marries them.

They kiss to seal the union. Something otherworldly, lovely, romantic happens during the kiss, proving it worked.

Then Beetlejuice and Lydia suddenly and dramatically get dragged back into the world of the dead.

Lydia's black dress turns red the second she's in the underworld.

And anything she wears immediately turns red every time she re-enters the underworld moving forward.

Why?

It mirrors the poncho dress Lydia wore in the cartoon when she visited the underworld.

It implies that BJ thought that he could engineer true love by finding someone who was a good match on paper, dressing them like someone who loved him, and hoping for the best. (Which is why alllll of his past weddings failed.)

It implies that the most important part about loving and building a life with someone is giving them the option to choose you then letting them make that choice of their own free will. And that true love doesn't happen unless you do that.

It gives the audience a new red wedding dress without there being another red wedding.

When she's in the world of the dead, Lydia is better off wed.

Wolf or another dead denizen explains that their marriage has given them the extra juice they needed to take on Delores in a Boss Fight. It also allows the two of them to travel freely between the world of the living and the dead without repercussions. (With a few extra bells and whistles so we can get a bunch of cool action sequences with practical effects.)

As they're given their marching orders for the movie's climax, BJ is just... stunned.

"Wait. You actually like me? How long have you liked me?"

BJ eventually focuses on the task at hand, but as they fight for their lives, every so often Lydia looks over and sees him grinning like an idiot and doing this:

[the-kr8tor]

Loki Variant! R just spinning around in circles in my head rn😔

The first time Hobie had seen you in your ice giant form, it had been on accident. And, it wasn't an entirely pleasant discovery.

He was humming as he roamed through the many halls of your palace, searching for you since it was about time that your meeting with your council should have ended. The orphans running throughout the halls made him smile, and he had to duck before a ball hit him in the face. As he was nearing your meeting room, he could hear something faint just outside the door. Was someone... crying?

Frowning, Hobie opens the door before freezing up at your shout of alarm.

"What are you doing? Leave!" You yell harshly as you point a shaky (blue?) hand towards the opened door, body turned away from whoever had come in. Now concerned, Hobie softly closes the door behind him and approaches you with all the quietness of a mouse. Just when he reaches out a hand to touch you, to take your hand in his, you flinch alway. Like you could feel him behind you, like his very touch would sear you.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong...? Look at me..." He mumbles softly as he tries to get you to face him, his head following yours every time you turn your face away. Your voice is shaky as you speak, as if you're terrified.

"No... You can't see me like this." See you like what? What could be so horrible that you wouldn't allow him to look at you? Clicking his tongue, he moves too fast for you to react, side stepping his way to finally face you properly. Hobie's eyes widen slightly in surprise at the dark blue of your skin and the piercing crimson hue of your eyes. However, he's more concerned about the tears dripping down your face and the unmistakable shame gleaming in your eyes. When he reaches out to touch you again, you back away, shaking your head and letting out an unamused laugh.

"You can't touch me. Not when I'm like this... I could hurt you."

"How could you hurt me?" You scoff at his question and scrub the tears off your face, shame and hatred seeping into your every word. You tell him of your true heritage, a frost giant who was left to die as a baby when Odin killed everyone on Jotunheim. Told any who questioned his taking of you that he was "saving" you from a "dangerous" realm of war. Odin only really took you in as a trophy, what you had learned from the man when you finally dethroned him. If anyone were to touch your skin when in your ice giant form, they could freeze to death. That this form only takes over every once in a while when the stress is truly too much for you.

"I'm hideous..." You say with a choked sob, clenching your eyes shut. Hobie's heart just about breaks at the sight. Because, how on earth could you see yourself as anything but breathtaking? You were gorgeous, exquisite. Even now, in this beautiful form you seem to hate so much.

"Come now, love. You're beautiful-"

"Beautiful...? I'm a monster, Hobie!" You snap with gritted teeth and red eyes flaring. There's a chill in the air as your voice grows louder and louder, and Hobie can't stand it. He wants to hold you close and never let you go as the words keep pouring from your lips. But each time he inches closer to you, you step further back. The air grows colder, and he can start to see his breath crystallize in the air.

"I'm the monster that parents tell their children at night, the demon that haunts every Asgardian's nightmares! I was never supposed to sit on that throne! I-I shouldn't even be here... Thor should be here. He was the one who everyone looked up to! He was supposed to be the savior! He was supposed to live! He should've lived, not me-"

Hobie had heard enough, grabbing your cloak from off of the nearby chair and wrapping it around your body before pulling you into his embrace. You were shivering and trying hard to step back, away from his arms. But it was okay. You weren't hurting him. You could never hurt him

"No more", Hobie mumbles as he pulls you both down to the ground with you sitting in his lap, your head wrapped in the cloak and laying on his shoulder. He could feel your tears soak through the cloak and his shirt. Or, perhaps they were his.

"No more of that. Everythin' that asshole ever said 'bout you, 'bout where you came from... It's all bullcrap. Your brother loved you, knew you'd take good care of everyone, yeah? Would he really entrust everythin' you both love to someone he thought was a monster? You're not a demon, lovie. You're a freakin' Rockstar with a heart so damn big and full of love for everythin'."

He grips you tighter, rubs your arms and back through the layer of clothing between you two. Your heart aches at his words, at the sincerity behind them. The chill in the room slowly subsides, and the blue of your skin slowly fades back to your normal skintone. Your thundering heartbeat slows in your ears and the tears soon cease.

"You fought too damn hard to free your people. You deserve to sit on that throne, and you deserve to live. And anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck right off. I'll bash their heads in..."

The last few words spoken make you chuckle, your hands moving to pull down the cloak from over your head as you look up to peer at him. There are dried tear streaks on his face as he looks down at you, chocolate brown eyes warm and glittering with such soft care just for you. Hobie lifts a hand to gently brush away the lingering tears in the corner of your eye with a gentle finger, touch as soft as silk. Then he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to your nose. Then another on your cheek. Hobie rains little kisses all over your face, adorning you with his love and affection. He doesn't stop until you giggle and try to wriggle from his grasp, until he thoroughly makes those bad thoughts flit from your mind. And, although he knows he can't make those thoughts of guilt and unworthiness leave you completely, he'll do his damn hardest to make sure it takes a long while for you to feel this low about yourself ever again.

YESSSS MORE LOKI VARIANT! R

Bestie you're feeding all of us with all these marvel aus 🤭

Omg i was wondering when r would turn into their frost giant form! This did not disappoint 😭😭😭 the hurt/comfort is hurt comforting me 😭

I love the fact that Hobie is practically living in asgard!

[discordiansamba]

right. where does he even start?

hi jin. everything you know about me is a lie. i wasn't lying to you though, because i believed it too. really concise and to the point. sounds absolutely terrible. he might as well just start with 'hello, prince zuko here' if he's trying to shove his foot into his mouth.

"do you remember those rumors," lee asks, "-about uh. the dai li brainwashing people?"

jin blinks. yeah, she's heard them. they'd even discussed them before. they were just fire nation propaganda right? the dai li wouldn't do that. they're supposed to protect us. lee wrings his hands and tells her they're all true, actually. the dai li really did brainwash people. you know how people keep telling you that I don't have an uncle? that I wasn't a refugee?

yeah, uh. the thing is. i was also brainwashed.

jin just stares at him like she's waiting for the punchline. it's only when she realizes he's serious that she takes his hand and asks what he means. she doesn't understand. why would the dai li make him believe he had a father, or that he was born and raised in ba sing se? she can't imagine mushi causing trouble.

"because I'm not- my name isn't lee," he tells her, "-well, I mean it is. sort of. but it's also not. it's really complicated."

jin asks him to explain.

lee takes in and lets out a deep breath. he swears he feels the flames of the lanterns flicker around them. it's oddly calming. he slowly begins to explain. he tells her that the dai li altered his mind and made him believe he'd always lived here. that his name was lee, and that his father was a member of the dai li. that his mother was dead, and his burn was from a house fire. he was... someone else before, but they remade him into a simple tea server- stripping him of his original personality in the process.

being lee is all he knows.

jin just stares at him. her grip on his hand has grown so tight that her knuckles are white. she asks him if he's not lee, then who is he?

"i mean, i kind of am lee," he admits, "-i'm not uh. i'm still brainwashed. it's not as bad as it sounds? i'm- i'm happy like this, and... i don't think i was before. i could go back to the person i was before, but i'm not sure if i want to."

she asks him again who he used to be.

he sighs. he tells her it's going to sound made up. that she's going to be angry with him. he promises her that he's never lied to her. he'd thought his whole life here as lee the tea server was real- and that he really does love her. he wasn't made to fall in love with her or anything. he just did.

"lee," she asks him again, "-who were you?"

"...zuko," he tells her, "-prince zuko."

she releases his hand and just stares at him, her eyes wide. the fire nation prince? the banished one? lee nods. he's still trying to wrap his head around it. jin just stares at him. you helped conquer ba sing se. lee hangs his head. yeah. he did. he doesn't remember any of it, but he did. he says he thinks prince zuko thought it would bring him his honor back or something.

all it got him was being backstabbed by his sister.

that's why they ended up serving princess azula, he says. because avatar aang and his friends found him and realized who he was, even when he couldn't. katara could heal him. make him into the person he once was, but father and princess azula didn't want that. they wanted him to stay as lee for the rest of his life.

"if you want to break up with me," lee says, "-i wouldn't blame you."

jin tells him she needs some time to think this over.

lee doesn't blame her.

it's an odd feeling, telling his nephew about himself.

but it is clear that the young man sitting across from iroh is not his nephew- as much as he might have zuko's face and body. even with the knowledge of his true self, he still treats him as a distant stranger- one that he must be deeply respectful of, but still a stranger. katara has kept him abreast of the situation, though he suspects there is something the young waterbender has been keeping to herself.

looking at lee, he suspects he can sense what it is.

he tells lee of zuko's agni kai.

he tells him what lead to it. lee looks surprised at zuko's outrage at the planned sacrifice of young soldiers. he is not sure he can blame him- he can only imagine what zuko's reputation is in the earth kingdom. to them he was only a banished prince, disloyal to his father and punished for it without knowing the exact reason why. he had chased the avatar with the intent of turning him over to his father, and then had helped conquer ba sing se.

iroh holds nothing back.

he tells lee of zuko. of how he let himself be redefined by his anger after the agni kai. but he also tells him that he helped the avatar escape pohuai stronghold, even if his reasons for doing so were less than pure. he tells them of their life as refugees. he tells them of zuko's choice under lake laogai, when he freed appa.

he tells him of how he chose to ally with his sister during the coup.

lee listens to him quietly- but it is like he is being told a story about another person. someone he's never met. when iroh is finished, lee exhales, as if he's been holding his breath all this time. it has been some time since iroh started speaking, but there is still steam rising from lee's cup.

"he wasn't happy," lee says, "-was he?"

"no," iroh admits, "-not for a long time. not since his mother disappeared."

lee cannot meet his eyes. he opens his mouth and shuts it, like there is something he wishes to say, but cannot manage. iroh sighs, and gives him his word as fire lord that whatever he wishes to say to him, he can say it without consequence. lee takes in a deep breath, and slowly lets it out.

"i don't know," he admits, "-if I want to go back."

and there it is, out in the open.

it would not be the first child iroh has lost to ba sing se. this is perhaps a kinder way to lose one. zuko would not be himself, but he could be happy there. they will have to deal with lan-wei and azula, but if that is the path he wishes to choose... then iroh will support it. he asks him only to think about it before he makes his choice.

deep down, he has wondered if a distant promise of happiness was what finally made zuko surrender.

"lady mai tells me this is the royal family's personal villa," lee says after a moment, "-but I don't know this place. I've never been here before, but there are portraits all over the place of someone who looks just like me. i can't get comfortable here."

"...I think I need to go home. to ba sing se."

"and if you go," iroh asks, "-will you be able to make up your mind?"

lee nods. iroh heaves a sigh. in truth, he does not want to let him go. but his nephew must make his own decisions. he is eighteen now. nearly an adult. the last time iroh tried to force him into seeing things his way, it did not end as he'd hoped. not for himself- nor for zuko.

"then go," iroh says, "-one way or another, you will find the answers you seek there."

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[nemesisfall]

obligatory pokemon au time!!

[dxxtruction]

Louis' "You're boring!" Could mean so many things, but I think what's most apparent about that line is that Armand takes no initiative just for himself. He's not really anybody, because he never goes out and finds himself or gets attached to anyone but Louis. Without Louis as his guide he's literally just sitting on a couch picking lint! That's the thing.

He orbits constantly around what would make Louis happy, and never really fully going what would make me happy? Ultimately that drive to please Louis is what drives him to torturing Daniel, not so much that he'd care to just do it. Ultimately, not giving proper care to Louis is just a way to make sure Louis knows he has to orbit around him as well, with shoving Lestat onto him just that other nail on the coffin. So, even if he fails to figure out how to make Louis happy with him, he still knows what Armand is good for, and better than.

That dependency is what drives Armand's abuse. It really just comes down to that. Armand doesn't even realize how suffocated he is by his own dependency. This is just how life is to him. (It shouldn't be lost either that dependency is a theme considering this episode also deals with addiction).

Daniel's fascinating because he's just so driven to be somebody. He's largely independent, he seeks things because he wants them. It's his drug to poke and prod at all the things that he shouldn't. Daniel's exciting because he lets Louis in to something different, lets him in to all this potential in another person that he can also do the same with for himself. It's a real connection. A two way street. It's easy to tell how Armand can be smothering then because he's never introducing him to anything really new, and most the ways both of them connect are all painful and traumatic. It's never just fun because there's always that layer of that pain. Fun died with Claudia.

50 years on they've gotten to a lot better place, both of them, but it's still that same shit. No seriously, "How is this any different from last time, Louis?"

Well... Because Armand's going to be, at the very least, making one [1] decision only for himself - and that's to hold power over Daniel's life. Fucking sick foreshadowing.

They aren't driving each other to the brink anymore but "The vampire is bored" STILL. Maybe it's even worse, despite being in better places, because Louis' sort of just been defeated by it. (I mean, can he even really leave this either?). He's accepting the dependancy cause he kind of has to. He'd literally ended up letting all the enjoyment be up where he can't reach [The book shelves]. Armand so desperately wants Louis happiness but what really ends up happening is that Louis ends up having to give Armand all his own. He's got no one or anything else to get it from. But like an iPad and an over the top eating ritual. Two extremes of what's just more lint picking.

This whole relationship is one I find just tragic inside and out. You have to just pity it, really. There's ways in which you can find yourself feeling bad for both of them. But you can only really be mad at Armand for any of it. Armand, who isn't even 'free' in any sense, having so little concept of his own independence, but is at the same time so controlling over other's. It's a tragic cycle. It's an infuriating one.

Louis at least has the mind to know when enough is enough. If just needing that extra push to get there. Armand's too scared of it being over to even try.