#beyond that only time will tell. i could be 100% wrong about all of this but. there's a lot of staying power in controversy.

[eepwriting]

Could I request a fic where fem!reader is touring with sleep token (maybe as like another band member or makeup artist) and finds out vessel has a crush on her? Then it turns really spicy really quickly lol

Notice ✶ Vessel x Fem! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, angst, public sex?, quickie, simp!vessel, forbidden romance?

Looove this request anon thank you 🤍 I kinda wrote reader as already having a crush and Vessel feeling the same way, so I hope that’s okay!

!! mdni !!

✧༝┉˚ MASTERLIST ˚┉༝✧

✦ taglist: @ghostlygothicgay @skellyflowers @evisnotok @jeriiicho @adenobabe @rain-down-on-me

Join my 🏷️ taglist here ♡

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

There was no way he could find out. No way he’d feel the same.

Out of fear of losing your job or friendship, you tried to hide it, keep your feelings to yourself. It hurt, sure, but what else was there to do? It’d be too much to loose if you let it slip. If he knew, he sure was good at keeping that secret to himself.

You’d been added to the crew to help with makeup and wardrobe, touring with the band for two whole rounds. You absolutely loved your job, including all the incredible people you’d come to meet, be able to call your friends. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Well, that’s not entirely true. If only you could get over this ‘problem’ you were forced to deal with. The 6’3, erratic dancing ‘problem’.

You knew right away, upon first meeting, that Vessel would have you wrapped around his finger in no time. The initial intrigue kept you almost pining after him, just wanting to know any and every thing about him. After breaking through his quiet, almost unnerving outer shell, he became the person you always wanted to talk to. Tell good or bad news to. Get advice on something you were struggling with. You thought him to be wise beyond his years, always knowing the right thing to say, offering the perfect advice as if he’d lived the experience 100 times over. He became a good, close friend.

Only, you didn’t just want to be somewhat close to him. Not just his close colleague. You wanted all of him. All his flaws, all his thoughts, all his time and all his energy.

Even if he gave you anything other than baseline professional behavior. It’d tie you over, soothe some of that sting you felt every time you saw him. Not that he ever would. He’s your boss after all.

“Quick word with you please.” His voice is close to your ear, you can feel the heat radiating off him. He startles you, but you quickly stuff the last of your equipment into your bag and zip it up, spinning to look at him. He looks in a hurry, bouncing on the balls of his feet, but his expression sits blank, at least his mouth gives off that impression. “Of course.”

He grabs your elbow, tugging you along his side as he guides you down the tunnel. “Is something wrong?” His warm hand slips to rest against the middle of your back as he shuffles you into a green room. He shakes his head but the nervous energy that suddenly surrounds the two of you makes your palms clammy. “I notice.” He shuts the door. The faint click of the lock barely reaches your ears, the nervous pounding of your heart too loud in your head. “What-?“ “I notice everything about you,” He talks quickly, “How excited you get when I come over to talk to you-you always try to hide it but I can always tell. The blush-and the fidgeting always gives it away.” You’re sure whatever blush he’s talking about is painted all over your cheeks right now. “I notice how you look at me. How you watch me when you think I can’t see you.” You let out a quiet laugh out of embarrassment.

“I-”

“I’m not trying to call you out,” he laughs. “I guess.. I’m just trying to say that I see you. I like you. I like knowing that you’re interested,” he takes a step closer, his hand slowly reaching out grab your own. “Makes me feel nice.”

Those last words make you smile and you clasp your hand over his. He visibly stiffens at the contact but relaxes when you reach out to pull him in for a hug. The boldness of your own move surprises you, but Vessel seems just as nervous as you are, so whats there to be afraid of?

He practically melts into you, letting out a sigh. “I hope you know I’m just as interested. Been interested for a long time.” His words are like music to your ears, sweeping the weight of your feelings off your shoulders. You’d waited long enough to hear him say something like that and you wanted nothing more than him right now. His long arms stay wrapped around you, your faces close, eyes searching the others for any sign of opposition. “But, I work for you.” You almost whine, your voice a whisper. His eyes flick to your mouth, “I don’t think I care about that.” He shakes his head slightly and searches your face again before leaning down to press his mouth to yours. His hands cup your face while yours clasp around his back. You’re surprised by his gentle tentativeness-appreciate it, actually, but you want more. Need more.

He lets you part his lips with your tongue and tilts your head back, standing to his full height. He moves to the side of your face, “Wanna make you feel nice too.” His voice comes out as a whine, his nose dragging along your cheek, almost nuzzling you. His fingers dance along your outstretched neck. “Please.” Your voice is scratchy.

It’s all he needs to hear to sweep you up and carry you to the nearest flat surface. The verbal go-ahead seems to seep into Vessel, turning him almost rabid. His hands are quick and impatient, popping the buttons on your bottoms, toying the zipper down, slipping under your shirt to feel untouched skin. They’re anywhere and everywhere. All the while he’s licking into your mouth, pulling your bottom lip into his own mouth with his teeth. He has your head spinning and you’re got off guard when he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. He mewls at the slight contact of your palms on his covered cock, bucking into you. “Wanna feel you, please.”

He wastes no time once all layers are shed, pumping himself a few times with a wet palm before he’s pulling you closer. He can’t help himself, tapping the tip of his cock on your clit, dragging it down your slit, collecting your slick, his breath hitching as he watches how you react. He swallows any noise from you with a feverish kiss as he sinks the head of his cock in. He gives you a second to adjust when he finally delves all the way in, bottoming out. His hand cups your face again, his mouth peppering kisses on your cheeks and forehead, his fingers reaching to thread through your hair. His other hand is occupied with thumbing over your clit. It sends shockwaves through you. You love the way his jaw goes slack and his eyes glaze over every time you let a noise slip. It’s like he’s brought back to reality for a split second each time. “I’ve dreamed of this, you know that?” He’s looking at you fully now, eyes dark. His hips jut back and forward quickly. “S’good. Better than I imagined, fuck.”

You can wholeheartedly say you’ve done the same. Restless nights, tossing and turning, nerves buzzing and aching while you dream of him. You can only nod at him quickly, too overcome with want and need. He drills into you, not a care for how loud either of you are being. His forehead presses against your own. “Please,” you whine out. He’s got you right on the edge and he’s desperate to have you falling. His jaw is tight as he grinds his teeth, hips moving impossibly faster. Mouths meeting the others, breaths and whines mixing to making a tune you’d be thinking about later.

The release is numbing when it finally crashes over you. Starts at your toes and travels up to your cheeks. It chokes you, has you crying out a silent scream. Vessels completely hunched over you now. His movements are sloppy, his head in the crook of your neck. His hips stutter and freeze, a breathy, high pitched whine leaves his mouth. He stays that way for a short while, wrapping you in his arms, his hips moving slowly, greedily overstimulating the both of you. The loss of fullness makes you shiver when he pulls away. He watches the two of you disconnect, you watch his face. He’s mesmerized, you could say. Eyes glassy and unfocused when he looks back up at you.

He helps you clean up, back to the quiet and gentle way he always was. He pecks your lips and forehead, his hand smoothing down your hair, straightening your clothes. “I hope this doesn’t change anything.” You say as he straightens up his own. He watches you for a second before stepping closer, “Not at all. Although I would… love to do this again.” He towers over you, a warm hand gripping your elbow, eyes trailing over your lips. Your cheeks heat and you can’t help but smile, “Okay. Me too.” A smile you don’t see often break out across his face. He nods, “Okay.” His hand slips down to your own, engulfing it in warmth. A welcoming grounding as leads you out of the green room. A nice reassurance that he felt the same way that you did.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

Y’alllllll what is this ending 😭

This has been sitting in my drafts for months so I don’t even know if I did this justice, but I hope you enjoyed.

K. Bye bye.

[priyajoyy]

Tangled

Clarisse la rue x repunzel!pesephone!fem!reader

Reader spent their entire life hidden away in a tower to protect her from the outside world wanting her for her powers, its only when a certain daughter of ares finds her scared and confused, that she finally gets to see the outside world like she always longed to.

Warnings:

Toxic parents, yandere!parents, oblivious!, Clarisse being stubborn, overprotectiveness, cannon typical violence, readers not got the best survival instincts 😭, reader is blonde, more to come maybe

Gods had a weird way of protecting people. And while you could confidently say they your parents were never intending to harm you or your siblings. They definitely went about it in weird ways.

Of course you never realised this, being locked away in a tower your entire life was all you even knew. You didn’t understand that your life wasn’t normal.

You didn’t realise you weren’t the only child your parents had hidden off in magical locations to protect them from Zeus and the dangers of the world in their own twisted ways.

And so you stayed where you were, waiting in your tower for the days that your parents would come and visit or the few creatures of the forest you had befriended came to your window.

With not much else to do but paint or read everyday in the same walls. Your hair growing and failing to ever stop, getting to the point of it being constantly in the way.

🍊☀️🪷

Clarisse was beyond confused.

She was 150% sure they had come the same way they had 100 times before. She was convinced. And yet there had never been a giant tower int he middle of the path all the other times they had taken this route.

Her brother suggested that maybe they took a wrong turning, surely they were just lost.

But Clarisse refused to acknowledge the idea she could even being wrong, no she was curtain they came the right way.

Besides they needed somewhere to camp out for the night anyway, so she took off towards the tower.

“Clarisse what are you doing?” Her brother shouted after her, the girl from the Hermes cabin turning to give him a look of annoyance.

The two followed after the girl, watching for a while as she searches around for some sort of entrance before giving up and turning back to them.

“Come on, we need to find a way up” Clarisse tells the two, not being able to find any sort of entrance other than the window near the top of the tower.

“Why?” The blonde girl asked in annoyance, “can’t we just go find somewhere to settle for the night?”

“Yeah clarisse it’s getting late, we can find our bearings in the morning” her brother added.

“This is somewhere to settle for the night” Clarisse stated plainly, rolling her eyes when the two stared at her in confusion, “it’s a giant tower in the middle of nowhere with no doors…no one’s living up there”

“I don’t know Clarisse…I mean this is meant to be a satyr trail, surely someone’s up there” the boy tried to reason.

“Aren’t you curious?” Clarisse asked, “I know we came the right way, this part of the route is blocked off, there is literally no way we got lost”

She was right, this small section of the trail was hidden away, you could only get in and out through two small entrance/exits, covered by plant life to hide it off.

They had been through the secret path a million times and never once was the tower there.

“Well how do you expect we get up?” The girl asked in defeat.

Clarisse looks around for a moment, before grabbing the bag off of her back and pulling out two daggers and holding them up to the two.

“No” the elder boy stated, to which Clarisse turned and made her way towards the walls of the tower, grabbing onto the vines to test their strength, “no no no Clarisse stop it right now”

The girl ignored him, stabbing the dagger into the wall inbetween the cracks and using both of them and the vines to begin to pull herself up the wall.

“I swear to god Clarisse get down right now!”

“I’ll see if there’s another way to get up once I’m up there” Clarisse calls down to them as they stare at her dumbstruck.

“I’m gonna kill you when you get down!” he called up to her.

“I hate your sister” the blonde said to the boy nonchalantly, collapsing to sit on the floor and wait for the ares daughter to be done you her adventure so they could get to bed.

“Tell me about it” the boy replied glaring up at her as she made her way to the top.

Clarisse made her way up, using the, surprisingly strong vines and plants growing off of the tower as her main support on the way up.

Once she made it to the window she pulled herself up on to the ledge, looking down to see her quest mates sat on the ground talking, rolling her eyes at the sight.

She quietly forced the shutters of the large window open, stepping on the flower bed as she climbed through into the room.

🍊☀️🪷

You hadn’t heard anything while Clarisse had been climbing up the walls, busy in your room painting as she entered into the main room of the tower.

Your hair was laid around the different rooms, leading through doors and hanging from ceilings in an attempt to keep it out of your way, something Clarisse stared at in confusion as she quietly wondered around the room.

She was clearly wrong about no one living in the tower, there were candles and lights lit across the room, and a fire lit int he fireplace.

The kitchen was full of food and everything was relatively clean. And not to mention the yards and yards of hair laid across the place.

That’s what confused Clarisse the most, surely no human had this much hair.

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she stepped backwards, tripped on some of said hair and fell onto the floor, alerting you in the other room.

You heard the noise and turned around quickly, your hair curling round you slightly causing it to tug, getting caught underneath Clarisse and yank on your head slightly. Making you squeak in shock.

Clarisse heard this from the other room, her eyes widening as she looking towards the doors that someone clearly resided in.

Both of you grabbed your weapons, Clarisse clutching one of her daggers, and you running to grab a vase off of a cabinet. Inching your way towards the door that separated the two of you as Clarisse stood up.

Clarisse started to walk up the stairs towards the door as you walked down the hallway, both of you stopping at the door before Clarisse decided to push through it suddenly.

You screamed as the mystery girl collapsed on top of her, hair covering your face as you flailed about, trying to get her off of you as she try’s to find the dagger that she lost on the floor.

“Get off of me” you grunted, pushing the hair out of your eyes and attempting to push her off of you, “who are you?”

Clarisse finally finding her dagger, held it to your throat, causing you to stop fighting back, breathless and staring at the weapon in her hand with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” Clarisse retorted, glaring down at the girl as if she wasn’t the one breaking and entering.

“You’re in my home” you say back in shock, frowning at how the knife gets closer to you.

“And I’m holding the dagger…see how this works?” Clarisse tells you with a smirk, flipping it in her hand as she kept it near your throat.

“I-I’m y/n…” you replied slowly, not knowing what to tell her. Looking at her with wide eyes as she huffs in realisation that it wasn’t the most helpful question to ask.

“Well why do you live here?” Clarisse asks noticing the way the girl looked confused and adding, “I mean you’re in the middle of the forest in a tower with no doors…”

“And I mean what’s going on with your hair, it’s so long” Clarisse continued, “and who uses a vase as a weapon?”

You didn’t really know what to say to any of that, looking at her blankly.

“I…don’t know” you answered eventually, adding in a small voice, “can you please get off of me”

Clarisse sighed, getting up slowly but still holding the dagger pointed towards her as she did.

“Why are you in my house?” You asked meekly, staring at the dagger in fear. Clarisse rolled her eyes noticing your wariness, putting the dagger down to her side to try calm you down.

“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you try anything ok?” Clarisse stated, “I was just looking to see if we could stay the night in here, I didn’t realised anyone lived here or anything”

“We?”

“My friends, well not really my friends but, well they’re just outside” Clarisse told you, “why are you in a tower by yourself exactly? And seriously what’s going on with your hair”

“I just live here…I don’t know what you mean” you answered, “and I guess it’s just my hair…my mum says it’s special”

“Your mum? Special how what do you mean”

“I don’t know it just is” you said, “w-wait, no, I’m not meant to tell anyone that”

Clarisses eyebrows furrowed at that, looking at you as though you were an idiot causing you to blush at her.

“Why can’t you tell anyone about your hair��” Clarisse asked.

“Mummy said not to” you said hesitantly.

Clarisse smirked at that, only seconds ago you said you couldn’t tell anyone and yet here you were continuing on with the subject.

“And mummy is?” She asked condescendingly, something you didn’t pick up on as you went to answer.

“Ummm Persephone…” you responded simply.

“What?” Clarisse asked in confusion, looking at you like you were mad. Sure, she knew you couldn’t be mortal, but a demigod?

She supposed the flowers and plants in full bloom in autumn made sense by that, it didn’t quite explain the hair but she was sure it had something to do with that.

“You’re a demigod?” She asked in confusion.

“What?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at her, “what’s that?”

Clarisse stared at you for a moment, you felt like she was scrutinising your entire existence as she looked you up and down.

Suddenly she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door, you stumbling as she continued down the stairs towards the main room of the tower and leaving you stood in the middle.

You watched her as she made her way to the window, opening it again and shouting down at her ‘friends’ she told you about earlier.

“It’s all safe” Clarisse shouted, before turning back to you, “do you have any rope?”

You looked at her in shock that she was just inviting people inside your home, speaking when she sent you a look of annoyance, “no?”

Clarisse looked around the room for a moment before settling on your hair that hung around the room, turning back to you with a new look in her eyes.

“You sure?” Clarisse asked, leaning down to pick up your hair and hold it up for you to see.

“W-what? No you can’t use my hair!” You told her, rushing forward to remove it from clarisses hands leaving you stood right in front of her.

She looked down at you with a smirk, taking the hair back, “come on, they won’t hang from it or anything, they just need something to hold for leverage to get up”

You rolled your eyes with a pout at that, looking up at her before walking towards the window, looking down at the two on the ground, who were now beyond confused at the blonde girl appearing.

You leant over to reach the walls of the tower then, Clarisse running over to hold on to you as you stumbled slightly, “be careful!”

You blushed feeling her hands on your hips, shaking yourself out of it and leaning down to touch the plants and vines attached to the stone.

Clarisse watched as the plants grew, covering the side of the wall all over and bits of vines hanging down for the two at the bottom to hold on to.

Once it was fully grown you turned back around to Clarisse, underestimating how close you both were when you did so.

You smiled up at the shocked look on her face, proud of yourself for figuring out a solution to the situation, hearing clarisses brother begin to scale up the side of the wall as you and Clarisse faced each other.

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog @l0veshellarcelia @asvterias @ashisabitgay

Wanna rewatch tangled now ���

Pretty sure this is shit but oh well

[luneemeritus]

Angel Dust love/appreciation post

With all the horrendous negativity sorrounding Angel Dust these days, I decided to make a post dedicated to love and appreciate him. It's 2024 and we still need to defend victims. It's like we moved backwards, specially considering that most individuals that hate Angel for... some reason? Call themselfs progressists. Lmao. What a sick joke. But let's foccus on what's good: Angel.

• Angel was willing to have sex with Alastor only to help Charlie. He doesnt like Alastor, he thinks Al is creepy and untrustworthy, and if he filmed himself having sex with Al, he would piss off Valentino (doing work "without his permission" to help someone Val heavily dislikes, after all, Charlie is helping him). So Angel was putting himself in danger and willing to fuck the stinky deer bastard just to help Charlie. HE LOVES HER SO MUCH, I CANT.

• Angel is so protective. He is so brave, he tried everything he could to keep Charlie away from Val, even yelling at her because her safety is more important for him. He grabbed Niffty like a baby to protect her from the loansharkers that were chasing Mimzy, he took the knife out of Niffty's hand, he stood up against Val to defend Niffty, and, unlike Charlie, she wasnt very close to him. But he just cares so much about his friends. It's so beautiful.

• The whole scene when Angel tells Val to fuck off. Just this. It's so fucking satisfying to see Angel being so strong and brave. Of course he will need help eventually, no one can be strong forever, but still. I'm so proud of him.

• Angel rejects Cherri's offer (drug) without shaming her or considering her less of a friend. He still loves her, supports her and is always there for her no matter what ❤️

• He didnt only stayed in the Hotel even after knowing Adam would target them first, he was also so invested in fighting back and protecting the Hotel. What a good boy 🥹

• When Vaggie throw him along with Pentious, he didnt ran away nor left Pentious to die alone (considering how both him and Vaggie were not trusting him), he fought back, protected Pentious and supported him after they were safe. And keep in mind that Pentious was both working for the Vees AND slutshamed Angel. But Angel didnt hold grudge (honestly he's better than me, my petty ass would be 100% pettier)

• The simple fact that Angel opened up to Husk was an act of strenght. This was so hard for him. The facade "helped" him to stay "untouched" and "safe" from humiliation, but it only made him self destruct. Letting go of that facade and ADMITING that he needs help is so, so hard. But he did it. Angel I love you

• The way he was so heartbroken by Pentious's death 🥺💔 "you did good, buddy" HEEELLPPP

• His protectiveness is beyond his friends, he saved the little egg boy in the cuntiest way possible, he's so fucking kind and brave, HE SLAYED.... (literally)

• As some people love to point Angel's past in the mafia (I mean, their ASSUMPTIONS on what Angel's mafia past was lol) to prove that "he is such a terrible person", I'd love to point out how he's terrified and disgusted by cruelty (Alastor's, Val's, Adam's) and only uses to violence when he needs to defend himself. From the men that wanted to drug and assault him in EP4, defending their territorry from Pentious in the pilot, defending the Hotel from literally every danger, from the mob that wanted to kill him in that very old pre-pilot comic. In conclusion, he is not a cruel person.

• And still speaking of that topic: he can handle himself. And that's fantastic. Every single time he used a gun, he ate 💅

• CHARLIE GRABBED HIS HAND IN THE FINALE 😭😭😭 it's so beautiful I love theeeemmm

• And of course, he stopped acting inapropriately towards Husk because he understood what he was doing is wrong. His haters are unable to see how much Angel improves himself, but it's not easy to let go of a problematic behaviour when called out. Angel I love you so much

• The way he was chasing Fat Nuggets when the Hotel was destroyed 🥺🥺🥺 such a wonderful pet dad ❤️

• There are different interpretations for Angel's reaction when Husk tells him "I guess you have changed", but I just love how he doesnt take pride or talks about himself, because that was not his priority. He wanted to foccus on living, helping and supporting his friends, spending his time wisely with people he cared about. I love you Angel

• Angel is unapologetically feminine, sensual, free and queer. This is awesome. He would be the best freak at Pride Parades. Be like Angel, be unapologetically yourself, live freely.

Now just look at cute pictures of this patootie

He's so pretty. I love him. Thanks for reading. Live laugh love Angel Dust

[inotakumagf]

the beast at the heart of the world

✶ gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.7K

summary ✺ you’ve had a shadow following you since you were a kid. one day, it tries to hurt you.

warning ✺ kind of creepy descriptions of a cursed spirit, but it’s not super gory or anything like that. also i never usually enjoy instant love, but reader and gojo are very touch-starved, so it kinda goes from 0 to 100 real fast oops. reblogs & comments r very appreciated <3

You started seeing the creature when you were seven years old.

He’s never spoken to you, but he’s always watching. At least, you think it’s a he. The creature has pale, rubbery skin with pointed ears and a towering figure. The way he stares at you reminds you of how your father does, and the comparison causes panic to burst against your seams. 

The first time you notice him, you’re playing with your dolls in your bedroom. You focus on the story you’re telling with your Barbies, trying to ignore the way your parents scream at each other in the kitchen. You have this suffocating desire to make them stop, even if that means hurting them. You don’t want to—you know you’d never—but you can’t shake the overwhelming anger brewing inside of you. 

When you finally look up, your heart drops at the sight of sharp, glistening teeth peeking out from your closet. The only thing visible in the shadows is the curling grin of a beast, and it feels like a twisted promise to rip you apart. You notice its red, beady eyes next, and you whimper when you realize it’s looking right at you. The creature’s grin widens.

You scream for your mother to save you, hands clamping over your eyes as you sob. At least your parents’ argument stops as your mother comes to see what’s wrong. When you point out the creature to your mother and explain the situation, she throws open your closet door, to your absolute horror. But her smile doesn’t change as she steps to the side and motions to the closet, the monster still staring at you with its full attention. You cry when you realize she can’t see the creature. Its gaze burns into you as she reassures you that there’s nothing to worry about, even as the creature drools over her shoulder. 

You learn two things that day: one, no one else besides you can see this creature. And two, it follows you. Everywhere. 

You don’t know why, but he never, ever takes his eyes off of you. And he never stops smiling. You have to ignore him every second of your life after that, pretending that he doesn’t tower over you and terrify you beyond comprehension. No matter how many years it’s been since you first saw him, your heart and body freeze every time you look over your shoulder and see the imposing figure of your monster. Truly, it could be worse. He’s never touched you before, he’s never put you or anyone else in physical danger. He just stands a short distance behind you, and he stares. But the anticipation is so overwhelming that it may kill you before he does. You often cry yourself to sleep, hoping that he will just go away. Why can’t he go away?

Sometimes, he stands so close that you think he’ll swallow you whole. You know he thinks of it, because his large mouth is wide open as he peers down at you, letting his saliva drip over you. After all these years, it’s still nearly impossible not to sob in fear or flinch away from him, especially when you’re in public. It's so debilitating, and it turns something as simple as ordering coffee at a cafe into a dreadful process. 

Like now, you try to order your drink, stumbling over your words as you do your best to ignore the creature standing beside you. Your voice cracks and you freeze as the monster drops its head onto your shoulder. You can feel its clammy skin against yours, and there’s a slight scratch as brittle hair brushes against you. A sob bubbles in your chest as the creature licks a trail up your face with its long tongue.

“I–can I…?” You can’t finish your sentence, too busy trying not to scrunch your eyes closed at the feeling of his slimy, purple tongue dragging all over you. He’s never touched you before, and you don’t know why he has now. Maybe his insatiable hunger has gotten the best of him. 

You make a strange noise in the back of your throat. The barista in front of you rolls his eyes at the state of you. You can’t really blame him, because you know how you must look.

“Are you gonna order?” He asks impatiently.

You clench your fists and try to at least breathe in and out. “I–”

The bell to the front door jingles as someone pushes the door open quickly. You and the barista turn to the man that has entered the cafe. He has snow white hair and a dark pair of glasses that he pushes up the bridge of his nose. You can see how his chest rises and falls quickly, as if he’d just run a marathon. He swipes his gaze across the room before meeting your eyes. Your eyes widen when he locks his eyes with yours. 

“Are you ordering or not?” The barista’s annoyed voice brings you back to reality.

An apology is on the tip of your tongue, but the man who’d just stepped inside comes over with a grin on his face. 

“Sweetheart! Sorry to make you wait, I couldn’t find my card.” He stands besides you, laying a careful hand on your shoulder. He pouts at the barista. “I didn’t mean to make you guys wait, we’ll order now. What was it that you said you wanted to try, honey?”

You startle when you realize he’s talking to you. You stumble through your order. The mystery man orders after you do, handing the barista his card to pay and making small talk. Your drinks are made fast, and you can’t blame the barista for wanting to be rid of you as soon as possible.

You don’t know what you’re expecting, but it’s not the stranger keeping an arm over your shoulder as you leave. He doesn’t let go after you walk out of the shop, or even when you’ve traveled a block away. Your heart stutters in fear as you try to think of a way to escape his grip. 

But then he whispers into your ear, “Do you want me to handle this thing for you? It’s awfully close, don’t you agree?”

It takes you too long to realize he’s talking about your monster. Your monster that no one should be able to see. “You can see it too? I thought I was crazy.”

He grins. “You still might be, that’s not for me to decide. This special grade curse looks like it’s been brewing for a while. You poor thing, you can’t get rid of it, can you?”

You blink. “What? Special grade what?”

He ignores you, rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in comfort. “How long has it been bothering you?”

“Since I was seven.”

For the first time, he looks surprised. “That long, huh? Let me take care of it, sweet pea. You won’t have to suffer much longer.”

You feel a rush of wind at your side and the stranger’s warmth disappears. It feels like you blink, and the creature turns to dust. Just like that, almost twenty years’ worth of suffocation is gone. The constant, overwhelming pressure against your skin is gone. The man appears at your side once more. 

It’s such a relief, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly you deflate against this man. He holds you to his side gently, running his hand against your back as you sob into his neck. You should have more shame, but you can’t bring yourself to care at all. 

You mutter your gratitude into his skin, and you can feel him shudder against your lips.

He lets out a shaky breath before grinning at you. “How ‘bout I walk you home? So I can make sure none of these curses bother you anymore, sweetheart.”

You’re flustered, stumbling over your reply before giving him a, “O-okay. Thank you.”

He lets out something between a sigh and a laugh. “Of course, honey.”

You can’t handle it. This man is a stranger, but he’s so…friendly. Thanks to your monster—your curse—you’ve never allowed yourself to be close to anyone in fear that the creature would snap and have its way. And though it’s hard to break away from your habit of fear, this man’s presence calms your fast-paced heart. He makes you feel safe. 

Once you’ve arrived at your apartment, you feel disappointment brew in your chest. “This is my place,” you mumble. “Thank you for helping me. For the first time in my life I feel…light.”

He smiles at you. “Can I give you my number? In case a curse like this ever bothers you again. All you have to do is call and I’ll be there for you.”

You agree easily, because you want to see him again, even if it’s in a less than ideal circumstance. You pass your phone to him, peering over his shoulder as he types his name into your phone. He pauses his typing to smile over at you, and it makes you flustered enough to turn away.

He laughs. “Aw, sorry, sugarplum. Didn’t mean to embarrass you. Could I get a name to match that pretty face of yours?”

You tell him your name, only considering a moment later that you probably shouldn’t give your name out to a stranger so easily. But you feel comfortable around him, and you find yourself trusting—you glance down at the contact name he’d set for himself—Satoru. You trust Satoru.

You turn to go inside your apartment building, but Satoru calls your name and you turn back, a look of concern flickering over your face.

He rubs his hand against the back of his neck. He looks almost…shy? “You can use my number, uh, even if there’s no curse. Do whatever you want with it, actually. I’m always available to talk. If you have questions about all of this, of course.”

The furrow in your brow eases and you smile and thank him again. You wave your phone in the air briefly. “I’m sure I’ll find something useful to do with this.”

And before you head back inside your apartment, you glance behind you almost instinctively. But there’s no more monster to worry about. The only thing behind you is your strange savior. You promise yourself that you’ll take him up on his offer, as many times as he’ll have you.

[velvetvexations]

Can confirm I've been on here for years now and before Gamer Gate and then the rebirth of Terfism happened the widely accepted feminist talking point was that men suffer under the patriarchy and how we need to talk about that because one of the fastest ways to get cis men on our side was to show them we were already on their side!

I remeber posts with hundreds of thousands of notes talking about how men are assumed to be worse caregivers than women to the point that in custody battles even if the mother is beyond a shadow of a doubt the worst abusive mess ever and the dad is the embodiment of a perfect parent the kids will end up with the mom. It doesn't even matter if the dad says he wants the kids and the mom says she doesn't, the women still gets assumed to be the better caretaker!! This is misogyny effecting men!!

And I know MRAs are terrible but I remember a video going around talking about their recruitment points, like how more men die doing dangerous jobs and the draft or men getting no help when they've been abused by women and being assumed to be violent predators even when they haven't done anything and like yeah, they 100% came to the wrong conclusions about what causes the problems and what the solutions are bcs it's easier to act like women are the problem, but those problems as they were introduced in the early 2010s were actual problems feminism is trying to address, and if these men could see that we are fighting the same fights and join US we'd be stronger. There was a prominent internet feminist who got full on red pilled just by listening to men tell her about their real actual problems, and the time they pulled the rug out on blaming women it was too late, she was convinced, because yeah women aren't the real problem at the root of men's issues they do HAVE ISSUES. The trick is that they just need to tackle the patriarchy, not women. I also saw stuff that legit talked about how to recruit men by pointing out how badly the patriarchy "serves" them!! (GamerGate quickly ruined any and all salient points that existed in the MRA movement bcs the internet is a feedback loop and anger is easy/fun sadly but yeah I feel like it's weird to act like they were always wrong no matter what when they at least did point out real problems.)

And like RBG partially made her name in the courts defending a CIS MAN on the basis that he was being discriminated in a way a CIS WOMAN would not have been, and the ruling allowed for insane amounts of progress for women. A man not being allowed a tax credit to hire a nurse for his bedridden mother is one of the first things that challenged discrimination on the basis of sex in America. But sure men ONLY gain benefits from the patriarchy. It NEVER hurts them too!! And helping them won't benefit us!!! Making them our allies is silly they should all shut up 🙄

Hell back in the 2010s I still remember seeing trans men talk about how horrible and alienating it was for all of their female friends and family to suddenly start acting like they were a threat, and not just pointing out the inherent transphobia, the guy went on to talk about that they finally get why cis men are the way they are, they suffer from systemic emotional neglect. And yeah that obviously does not mean women owe them emotional avaliablity and sex, but maybe the patriarchy telling men to be big tuff guys who never hug or cry or like anything even a little girly HURTS THEM and is a direct cause of a LOT of the problems we're dealing with rn!!! There was a whole study about how widows tend to live a lot longer after their husbands because they have friends and family to lean on and weren't taught to suppress their emotions, meanwhile widowers tend to die VERY quickly after their wives because they no longer have someone who it's okay for them to be open and emotional around, and not having someone you can do that with KILLS PEOPLE. People were saying again, this does not mean women HAVE to take on all their problems, but maybe that we need to stop assuming men don't need emotional support and teach our sons to not be afraid of being ulnerable, honest people because systemic emotional neglect IS BAD FOR YOU ACTUALLY.

These were ACTUAL conversations that swept this damn site. This was the direction feminism was going in. We were on the cusp of a beautiful age of 4th wave feminism with the knowledge that the patriarchy seves no one well and free the nipple and no gender segregated bathrooms and sports, and now just pointing out that we need to maybe understand the ways men struggle under the patriarchy if we've ever going to have them join and help us build a better world gets my inbox flooded with both terfs and so called progressive feminists calling me a gender traitor for being willing to admit men arent the source of all the world's ills and WE NEED THEM ON OUR FUCKING SIDE. I used to proudly call myself a 4th wave feminist back when people still claimed to be of the 3rd, and now idk what I even am. A bell hooks and leslie finberg feminist I guess, since they actually seemed to get it.

Yeesh. Anyway sorry that got heated. This has just ruined my brain. I do not understand where tf we went wrong, bcs hell back in the day we also pointed out how TERFs were wrong to want men and people they perceive as men and those "tainted" by men put to death for existing so they could build their stupid white supremacist wombyn utopia. We KNEW hating men just for being men was wrong and regressive and hurt maringalized men and did NOTHONG to push feminism forward. We talked about the issues that men face and how to raise our sons to be better. But idk I guess Gamer Gate and the Incel movement took off right as TREFs figured out the whole ace and truscum discourse thing wasn't working and they just needed to doctor their arguments against men better and radical feminism took off and this entire site regressed 1000 years and thinks trans men of all people are just as bad as cis men and trans women have a monopoly on an entire axis of oppression like?????

And I'm not putting the blame squarely on anyone aside from the radfems who started this shit but it does NOT surprise me that we are seeing a massive resurgence of biphobic, transmedicalism, and aphobia since half the queer discourse I see these days is anti-transandrophpbia assholes just word for word repeating the kind of blatant aphobia and truscumery that would have gotten you suplexed off the face of the earth in the 2010s with the identities swapped. Just word for word monosexist aphobic shit. Legit is giving me flashbacks, it's insane.

I have never in my life been more disappointed in my community of queer feminists. This is masks all over again. Like is this how kids who grew up evangelical feel when they realized actually the adults didn't mean literally love all your neighbors silly just the Correct ones?? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. What the hell happened to us.

Thank you for writing all this anon, you put enough work in it I'm gonna toss it in the tags, I think it deserves to be seen. <3

The problem with MRAs was never that they believed men had problems too, but that they used certain things - like their disadvantage in custody hearings, for instance - as a cudgel in a malicious crusade against a target they hated anyway for not fucking them. Now with as quick as people are to say things like "what, are you saying androphobia exists too?????" it feels as though we've completely forgotten the actual reason we ever hated MRAs to begin with.

It's the same with the dating article where the most basic possible interactions between two adults mutually seeking a hook-up were taken to be pick-up artistry.

[goat-guy-tm]

I was talking about deep analysis of Curly and Jimmy's dynamic in my discord server (which you should join), and I thought "Hey! Maybe tumblr would like this!" So, here this is! It's a rough copy paste of what I said, edited slightly to fit better in a post format:

Also long post warning.

I feel like because a lot of ppl haven't experience people like Jimmy irl they have a hard time understanding why Curly acts the way he does, and by no means is it still 100% okay, but when you know someone that's been mentally manipulating you for years if can become easy to be tunnel visioned to they pain they cause others. I think a big example of that is when Anya shows concern over Jimmy's last psych evaluation but when Curly does it Jimmy (from the little text we get about it) tells him it was just all jokes, which could have been, but when it's just Jimmy and Curly it's much lighter in perspective, because Curly believes him, and Curly sees no reason for Jimmy to lie to him about his mental state (which he obviously was doing as he has quite the psychotic break a few days later)

Not to mention, Jimmy gets quite aggressive at Curly when he notices that Curly is rethinking his career. He activly calls him horrible things for 'not appreciating his position and wanting something new' (<not direct words but overview), when if Jimmy was a good friend he would have been talking about it with Curly. Instead he shames Curly for it, that in Jimmy's mind it's unfair for Curly to not be happy cause Curly has a better seat than him, but he'll frame it as them, the whole crew, to make Curly feel bad about it.

Like, when the rest of the crew learned they were going to be let go after that haul, none of them were really mad at Curly for him being the only one to be given a recommendation and compensation. Yeah Anya and Swansea are upset about it, but only Jimmy is the one to call out Curly for being the only one to relieve special treatment, when it's pretty established Curly is/was one of Pony Expresses' best pilots. But Jimmy doesn't talk about himself during the party. Swansea mentions how unfair it is that PE is throwing them to the side after all these years, Anya almost has a panic attack over not having any money in savings, Daisuke isn't really phased since he's only an intern, but Jimmy gets mad at CURLY, not Pony Express. He even full on calls it Curly running away, as if Pone Express closing them down is Curly's fault for wanting something different for his life

I mean what's wild to me is I'm p sure Curly even has a conversation with Jimmy in the game about how he hasn't been handed anything and has been working hard for where he is. Curly never out right really says it, but he does make mention of both of them working hard. Then again Curly doesn't talk about himself a lot even in conversation (minus the "on the edge of a bridge with your feet in the cememnt" one cause Jimmy made it about him)

When going back through the playthrough, I realized Jimmy is such a well written villian because he convinces even Curly that Curly is the villian here, the one in the wrong. Curly isn't perfect, he is quite literally the imperfect victim, but Jimmy is such a big manipulator that he convinces Curly it's HIS fault all this is happening, that Curly needs JIMMY so that he can fix all this, only for Curly to realizes what Jimmy's been doing when he finds Jimmy curled up outside the cockpit with a ship wide system failure blaring.

Buddy Corl: "Hey, just an idea, would Jimmy keep Anya alive so that Curly can stay alive? He berates her medical expertise but never elects to care for Curly beyond feeding him pills."

I'd say 50/50. A big thing is Jimmy quite obviously doesn't view Anya as a person, or at the very least views her as bottom of the barrel useless, but after the crash and with Curly how he was, there was no way he'd be able to do it and survive, because the entire time Swansea has the axe and Jimmy even recognizes that if he steps out of line too far within the lines of "I'm captian so I say so", then Swansea would basically usurp him. His own personal caring for Curly was most likely to keep him suffering. He voted on keeping Curly alive, and unless he was just trying to blend in with the others, then he did it because he wanted to keep Curly suffering.

Friend Corl again: "There was a Tumblr post that claimed the hands of the others were missing (the overview angle of Curly on the table was used as evidence) but this could just be the angle of the scene itself as he was going to die shortly after."

Hm, it could have been either the angle, a rendering choice from the devs or Jimmy could have cut their hands off. Idk why he would only go for the hands though, since he seems to show full intrest in cannablism. But you could chalk it up to a concept of keeping them from being able to do anything. Yes they are dead but Jimmy is far gone enough to believe that cutting their hands off could still make him better because they can't do anything to change what he's done.

Anyways that's it! For some context on why this is so important to me, from elementary school to the end of middle school I had a 'friend' that I was extremely close with. She was a horrible person who mentally, emotionally and physically tortured me for years, but since I was a child I never saw anything wrong with it. I would even rush to her defense when people would point out to me that what she was doing was bad. Now a days I hate her, and I love to talk shit about her, but I think a lot of people don't fully take in Curly's actions because they haven't gone through that (and they shouldn't, mind you).

I feel for Curly a lot, because I see myself in him in how he tries so desperately to protect someone he didn't even realize was killing him. Curly isn't perfect, and believe me I wasn't perfect when I was friends with her. She made me act out against people to gain her approval, she made me bitter and mean to others, do things I would never do. Very few people acknowledge what an over powering manipulator that has been controlling you for years can do to a person.

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4

my masterlist!

summary: suddenly it’s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.

warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!

a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3

(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)

———

There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.

And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.

You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.

You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.

And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.

It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.

And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.

Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.

Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.

You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.

You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.

Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.

Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.

But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.

You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.

You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?

You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.

So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.

Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.

On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?

And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.

One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.

Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪

But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.

[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”

He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.

Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.

And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.

His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.

Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.

Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?

He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.

I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?

Another ten minutes go by,

I’ll be over in about 15. x

He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.

But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.

And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.

Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.

In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.

Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.

But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.

Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.

“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.

“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.

Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”

“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”

Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.

A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”

She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.

———

You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.

And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.

You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.

You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.

The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.

“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.

He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.

“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.

He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”

You take a deep breath. So, he knows.

You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.

“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”

“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”

You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”

He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”

“Why are you apologising? I should be…”

“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.

“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”

You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.

“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.

“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”

He frowns a little, “assumptions?”

“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.

“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.

“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”

You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.

“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.

Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”

He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”

He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.

You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”

To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”

“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”

You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.

You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.

“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“

He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.

You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.

You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.

Oh god.

“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.

But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.

“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.

“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.

“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”

You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.

“Are you—“

“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.

You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”

You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”

He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.

“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.

Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.

“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.

“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.

You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.

You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”

She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.

“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”

She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.

“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.

You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.

What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.

“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.

“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”

“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.

“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“

“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.

You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”

Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’

You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”

She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”

“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.

Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.

And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.

“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”

A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.

“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.

“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.

“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.

“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”

You frown at his careful words.

He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”

At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.

He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.

“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.

“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.

He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.

“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.

His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.

“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.

You don’t reply.

“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”

“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.

“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.

You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.

“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”

“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”

“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”

“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.

He laughs at your attempted defiance.

“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.

“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.

“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.

“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”

“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”

Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.

“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.

“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.

You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.

“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.

It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.

You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.

In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.

He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”

“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”

You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.

How exactly? you’re still unsure.

“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.

The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.

His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.

You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.

Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.

He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.

He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.

How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.

—((sexual content from here and onwards))

His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.

You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.

Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.

The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.

“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”

You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.

“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”

You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.

“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.

“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.

“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”

“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”

“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.

“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”

At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.

“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.

He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.

“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.

Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.

It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.

“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.

He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.

He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.

“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.

Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”

Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…

“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.

Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.

You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.

“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.

“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.

He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.

Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.

“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”

“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.

In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”

You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.

“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.

This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.

You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.

His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.

You need him on your tongue.

“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.

You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.

A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.

You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.

The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.

“Oh… oh god.”

You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.

“Can I take you out, please?”

“Such nice manners, good girl.”

Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.

Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.

You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.

Lord.

You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.

For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.

“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”

“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”

He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.

There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.

Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.

You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.

He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.

“Harry— need you…” you beg.

“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.

“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”

“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”

“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.

“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.

You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.

“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”

“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.

“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”

He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”

You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.

He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.

“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.

“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”

Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.

“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.

“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.

He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.

Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.

“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.

His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.

You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.

“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.

“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”

The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.

“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.

He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.

It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.

“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.

It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”

“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.

“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.

The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.

“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.

“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.

“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”

His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.

“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.

Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.

He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.

His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.

Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.

“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.

He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”

This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.

You like him, so much. So you just say it.

“I like you, Harry.”

And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.

Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?

———

that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[acourtofthought]

Hello! Recently I've been watching a lot of acotar discussions and as I'm from the Gwynriel and Elucien fandom I'd like to know your thoughts on it. I saw a girl on the other side of the fandom saying that canonically Amren had suggested that Elain leave the house and get some fresh air before Lucien. She also cites scenes in which Elain was present in the sunlight but was still depressed and that what really helped her to start to improve her condition was when Azriel said that she was a seer. I would really love to know your thoughts on this. And I also wanted to ask what you think about when Madja says that only a mate could say what Elain had and it is Azriel who says that she was a seer.

In canon, Elain's condition began improving after Lucien's arrival and after Lucien demanded they get her out of the house. Was she fully healed? Of course not. She's not even fully healed now but the change was noticeable (more on this below).

Amren did make the suggestion for both sisters but it was Lucien who began losing his temper because it seemed Nesta and Feyre weren't taking his suggestion seriously. It was Lucien's insistence that triggered Feyre to take action, not Amren's, and Amren seemed more focus on getting the sisters to help them rather than Elain's mental health.

Amren page 171:

Lucien page 252 (almost 100 pages later, he also wasn't present for Amren's comment) :

Only one of these scenarios shows true, targeted concern for Elain, very specific requests related to Elain (he even mentioned the sea and we later learn their estate in the human lands was by the sea). To the point that he was personally affected by Feyre and Nesta making light of his suggestion, indicating he knew how important it was to Elain's well being. And only one of these characters is Elain's mate who just truly met her for the first time yet he was able to achieve the desired outcome that a 15,000 being did not. That her own sisters didn't even think of.

Side note, if we're putting weight on the things Amren said then it should be also noted how she was the one who had to reprimand Az for not believing in Elain. And Madja even said there was nothing wrong with Elain, which is true. Elain's powers were a riddle to solve but they aren't something to fix. Not like her catatonic state was (a state we could say Az drew straws to avoid). Her specific words were:

"The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

Lucien barely had time to sit with Elain before Nesta pulled her rage act but even if he'd been with her longer, he wouldn't have found anything "amiss" outside of her sadness of what happened.

Her powers are simply powers, something she only had for a few weeks, they aren't a link to her soul. Az simply knew the name for them, as he would have known the name for anyone with those same powers, it doesn't mean he knows Elain as an individual.

Back to Elain's state, before Lucien's arrival in the HOW she was not eating, drinking or sleeping. She would not leave her room and she spent her days crying.

Within two days of Lucien's arrival she left her room for the first time though the sisters "couldn't figure out why". And she just happened to choose the room where Lucien just happened to be visiting though he was actually ordered not to after Elain just happened to begin having her visions for the first time.

(sounds like our Seer knew where her mate would be going!).

After Lucien demanded they get her outside, she began sleeping and drinking, two things she hadn't done before his suggestion. She also stopped crying all the time.

Again, that was after page 252 and beyond. Az claimed she was a Seer on page 334. And this is actually how that went:

Elain didn't even trust what Az was telling her, she had to confirm it with Mor. And after she confirmed it with Mor, Mor was the one who first fought for her vision while Az thought it was better to do nothing with it, choosing not to go after what she was seeing:

And it was Lucien who volunteered in Elain's place:

Az gave name to Elain's powers but it was Mor and Lucien who actually believed in her and what she was telling them. Elain did start baking after that but for someone who felt like nobody ever saw her, my guess is it was Mor and Lucien's confidence in the information she provided that made the difference, not Az labeling what her gift was then choosing to ignore the help she offered to the IC.

[dramadramallama]

Thinking about how petrifying it must have been for Su-min to watch Ji-won detach herself from her in every possible way. How telling that their nickname for each other was "[my] other half." Where Ji-won thought of her as a sister with whom she could share everything, Su-min only ever thought of Ji-won as an extension of herself, the other half of her that matters, the other half whose dad did not abandon her, the other half who is loved. When you're loved, you're not empty.

Watching Ji-won stand up for herself and refuse to do all the things she used to do for Su-min is akin to watching her two arms and legs suddenly grow a brain and go on about their life, abandoning her completely. At this point I think she's beyond angry: she's horrified lol

She is incapable of thinking of Ji-won outside of herself: she doesn't see her as her own person. And Ji-won used to unknowingly let herself be eaten away. Su-min's weird coping mechanism for her abandonment issues is based entirely on that. She both resents and needs her.

In the original timeline, she slowly, insidiously took over that "other half" until Ji-won completely disappeared, and Su-min was able to replace her fully (righting a—perceived—wrong). But, in the new timeline, her other half doesn't act like a puzzle piece. Uh oh, Ji-won is a whole, complete person! Su-min still tries to "replace" her, but fails because Ji-won has become too solid to be moved or erased.

I feel like Su-min's reached some sort of milestone with the last couple episodes. It's like she expected to be spoon-fed sugar as always, but realized she was suddenly choking on salt lmao. We didn't see much of her in ep 14 unfortunately, but her outbursts in episode 13 were so good. Hands down the most interesting character lol (sorry Yu-ra, I can't be bothered to care about youuu, I'm bored).

She's certified cray-zy, and compared to her composed appearance of the earlier eps, it's almost like she's experiencing a descent into madness... but girlie's been insane the whole time, and for so long, so at this point it's not a descent; she can't go any lower. Rather, it's kind of an abrupt ascent lol. A violent wake up call. Everything is bubbling up to the surface, and she can't avoid it.

Even during the confrontation (finally!!!!) with Ji-won, she took so long to drop the act, she took so long to admit what really motivated her actions. 100% sure it was the first time she had to put words, Actual Words on her feelings and behavior. And after her whole monologue, for Ji-won to reply, "...what, that's it?"

Even her reasons are seen—by her own victim too!—as utterly empty, and devoid of any meaning. Oooooh, it must have burned.

[writersnook11]

I'd Wait Forever

Life Day Exchange 2024

@lonewolflupe @cloneficgiftexchange

Word Count: 5.5k+

Warnings: 18+ but no smut, no use of Y/N, SFW, grief, mentions of death and lack of closure, denial, angst, mentions of corruption, mentions of Order 66, emotional reunion, fluff, kisses, holiday activities, mentions of a tiny square box with a very specific purpose

Summary: After Fives’ death, you’re not sure what to do with yourself. Your last conversation with Fives left you confused, scared, and reeling with its implications. You learn to live with your grief, and when the Republic is replaced by the Empire, you decide to leave Coruscant. You move to the place you and Fives had intended to live after the war, choosing to face head on what could have been. Months later, an unexpected visitor arrives.

Disclaimer: I should note I’m not 100% sure of the amount of time that passed between Fives’ death (canonically) and Order 66. In writing this I took a creative liberty in saying it was several months, please forgive me if that’s wrong. But also, this is fanfiction, so *shrug*, anything goes sometimes. I think a timeline issue in this case is a minor thing, but I at least wanted to be upfront about my doubt. I also don't know if the GAR troops were paid, but in this case they were, albeit extremely minimally.

Gift Note: Happy Holidays! Lupe, I hope you like it! I went a bit crazy with the angst but I hope the fluff makes it worth it. I read your About Me and stuck a nugget or two in there for you specifically. It's not perfect by any means, I'd edit this for months if I could. Also, I'm not sure if you use Spotify, but during the writing process I made a mood playlist/soundtrack and I'd be glad to share it with you if you're interested! Anyway happy reading, let me know what you think! <3

AI Notice: My consent to any and all use of my work in training AI is expressly withdrawn. Do not use my work in training artificial intelligence.

It had taken a matter of weeks for your world to turn upside down.

You longed for those hushed whispers of comfort, his rumbled assurance that he’d be back before you knew it. You desperately craved his arms around your waist again, holding you close and hanging on like you’d never let go, both of you warm and safe. 

Part of you didn’t believe it. How could you? He called you only hours beforehand, a rushed warning of something you couldn’t quite understand. 

Be ready to leave the second I get home, all those plans we made to move? We’re doing it now—

Fives wait—

Listen to me, okay? There’s something big happening, I can’t explain it all yet, I don’t have much time—

Fives you’re scaring me, what are you talking about? What’s happening?

Don’t be afraid, sweetheart, I’ll be home soon and we’ll get far away from here, just like we said we would.

Yeah, but that was after the war— is it over? Will it be over soon? Is that what you’re saying? 

No— I— I can’t tell you or I’d be putting you in danger.

What? You better tell me what the hell is going on, right now.

I can’t—

Fives!

A beat of silence. 

Dammit… Listen, you can’t repeat this to anyone, and I mean anyone, okay? Not Rex, not Fox, not Commander Tano, no one. Not until I give you the all clear. Got it? 

Okay, I hear you… 

The Kaminoans put something in every clone. Every clone. And it can control us. It’s an implant in our brains. Tup’s malfunctioned, that’s why—

Control you? What? Fives I’m confused—

This goes deeper than I ever thought possible. I don’t know what to— Kriff. I have to go—

Fives be safe! I can’t—

I love you baby, see you soon.

You were beyond confused and scared, but Fives was one of the best troopers in the GAR and you knew better than to doubt him. You trusted him more than anyone in the galaxy. You did as he told, if not to comfort yourself then him. 

You were waiting in the living room of your tiny Coruscant apartment, bags packed by the couch, when the Guard knocked on your door.

How could you believe them? 

This wasn’t in the plan. 

His funeral wasn’t like any you’d ever attended. It was lumped in with hundreds of his brothers fallen in combat, more like a memorial than anything. You went through the motions numbly, half-heartedly acting the part of a grief-stricken loved one because you still couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. Something in the way Fives had told you about behavioral implants, the war being fabricated; you didn’t trust many people anymore, even clones. It didn’t help that no one could meet your eye; not Rex, not Kix or any of the 501st. Maybe they felt responsible somehow. Survivor’s guilt, perhaps. You simply couldn’t believe Fives was dead. 

Weeks went by. Everyone looked at you with such sympathy. Rex even called to check in or visited when he was able, however rare that turned out to be. 

When months went by and there was still no word from Fives, you started to believe them. Maybe he was truly gone. He wouldn’t leave you this long without at least a word of comfort, even an acknowledgment or letter.

You returned to work, pouring yourself into it, saving money and filling your days as best you could while you hoped and waited to be wrong. Sometimes you’d pass by clones on shore leave, laughing and making merry. You’d see glimpses of him in his brothers, hear him in their voices. Those days you couldn’t help but wonder if any of them had known him, if they’d had a chance to hear him out. You often thought about his last days, especially the few hours after he comm’d you. Was he afraid? Angry? How deep did this go? You wanted to ask Rex, General Skywalker, anyone and everyone who was near him in his final days. Before you had the chance to speak to them again, everything Fives said to you in that call coalesced. 

The fall of the Jedi Temple, eliminated by Republic clones, and the emergence the Empire. Headlines that shook you to the core. 

You knew good and well the Jedi would never turn against the Republic, Fives had told you too much about them. You also knew just as well that the clones would never turn their backs on the Jedi without a second thought. No creature in the galaxy could meet a more loyal band of brothers. Behavioral implants suddenly made a frightening amount of sense. 

You didn’t like what this implied about the Republic, what it had been under the surface all along. When the Chancellor seemingly declared himself Emperor, you knew where the galaxy would head. You’d read too much about such governments. All too soon, free thoughts even as simple as questioning a new policy would be deemed threats to democracy, threats to the Empire. Any and all of which would be punished, if not eliminated entirely. 

You thought back to your final call with Fives, how he’d said telling you those things would put you in danger. If his last words to you ended up a warning without him ever knowing truly what would transpire, you wanted to make sure it wasn’t in vain. It had to be worth something, even if that only meant your escape from a corrupt regime. 

The night of Emperor Palpatine’s inaugural address would be your last spent on Coruscant. 

The instinct to run away was a powerful one, one you had never felt so tangibly. You spent the larger part of the night packing and repacking your bags, trying to dwindle your life down to the bare necessities for starting over. When you finally slept, you tossed and turned, waking in the morning feeling like you’d have been better off not sleeping at all. 

With one bag over your shoulders and one in hand, you turned to give that dingy, budget apartment a last once over. At first, you looked to make sure you didn’t miss anything you wanted to take. You’d never be coming back, after all. But then you were watching Fives sneak up on you while you were making dinner, food flinging to the ceiling as you shrieked. Then you were falling all over him, giggles and exclamations of surprise filling the room. You watched how his hands fit perfectly on your hips, sliding up your waist to your back to envelope you in a tight hug, your kisses peppering his face. Your lips fell on his, humming contentedly and standing there together in bliss. Then dinner started burning and you had to practically tear his arms off to get to the stove, a wide grin never leaving his face. 

A tear slid down your cheek, one you brushed away with the palm of your free hand. You couldn’t bear the thought of a whole life without him. 

You pushed that memory to the back of your mind, turning on your heel and locking the door behind you. At the front office you turned in your key, bidding farewell to the only office manager you actually didn’t mind. She asked if there was anything she could do, but you shook your head and assured her there were just too many memories in that apartment now. She gave you a knowing nod and you told her about the rest of your belongings, that she could sell or donate or throw away the rest. She asked if she should leave it as is for a while, in case you changed your mind. You shook your head again. 

You’d never be coming back, after all. 

Clouds of dust billowed as you dropped your bags in the doorway, making you cough. Carefully, you made your way through the foyer into the living room, then into the kitchen, stepping over rotted floorboards and soft spots. You assessed needed repairs as you went, cringing as the list grew. 

It was worse than when you and Fives bought it. Granted, there were already numerous issues when you put down an offer. That was the main reason you were able to get it so ridiculously cheap. It wasn’t like they paid clones well. Now you’d just spend an arm and a leg repairing everything, and hopefully get it finished before winter. 

You ran a hand across the window over the kitchen sink, barely brushing enough dirt away to see the barn clearly. You stepped back and made your way to the mudroom, walking out back to take a look at the yard. Fenced in (if you could call what remained a fence), the barn stood several hundred units behind the house. It was weathered and worn by time and lack of tending, standing nearly twice the size of the main house. Its hayloft was in desperate need of new supports and the whole thing in need of new siding. 

You sighed, turning on your heel to head back inside. Crossing through the mudroom again, you looked to the stairs leading to the second floor. Sheets of wallpaper, fallen from upstairs, laid across the steps. As you climbed the stairs, you leaned over and crumpled up what was in your way, having to tear some the rest of the way from the wall. 

The second level was not in much better shape than the first. Of the two small bedrooms and one large, only about ten units of wallspace still held wallpaper. The refresher needed serious TLC to the plumbing, the sink running brown for the first ten minutes of waterflow. When it finally ran clear, it only ran cold. 

You pinched your lips together and let out an exasperated sigh. After retrieving your bags from the front door, you marched upstairs and began getting settled as best you could. At least you brought one of Fives’ old bedrolls.

You spent your first few weeks getting the most pressing repairs in the house finished. Plumbing, replacement floorboards on the ground floor, and leaks in the roof patched up just in time for the rainy season. You got your hands on some budget furniture to fill the emptiness, met with neighbors though they were a mile away, and familiarized yourself with the village even further down the road. As much as you could, you kept your days busy. 

Nights, however, were always lonely. That’s when the longing settled back in. Missing him, his company and warmth, the life in his smile that filled your soul with purpose. Laying alone in the bed meant for you two was more draining than you expected. You thought getting away from Coruscant would be more of a fresh start than this. You’d hoped your grief wouldn’t follow you this closely. 

You often found yourself just… angry. 

Who was responsible for taking away millions of clones’ free will? Who was responsible for taking away the future you and Fives had dreamt up? What political scumbag took away your goodbye? 

You established a routine. Breakfast, wash up, chores. Stop into town if needed. Lunch. Work on the house and the land. Wash up again, start on dinner. Sit on the porch with your meal, watch the sun go down, and go to bed. 

It wasn’t elaborate or set in stone. You’d alter any of it when needed, but you knew you needed consistency. You wanted it, even. Anything to take your mind off Fives and the Empire. 

Month by month, your old house tucked in the woods became more of a home. It wasn’t so empty, dusty, or broken anymore. No more leaks, peeling walls, or rough spots in the floors. Good, kind neighbors pitched in to help where they could, mainly with the heaviest lifting. The Apande’s down the road helped put in—forget just supports—an entire new hayloft. With things shaping up, you were able to find peace in many things you hadn’t been able to living on Coruscant. 

Each morning you could listen to the world around you waking up. Birds would start singing just as sunlight struck the treetops. Light filtered in through thin, floating curtains, shadows of branches and leaves dancing across your wall. In the summer you’d sit on the porch steps, counting fireflies and listening to crickets. When autumn came you reaped your first harvest in the garden, albeit small, and felt immense pride in what your hard work produced. When the first snow of the season fell you couldn’t help but stare at it in awe. You must have sat on the porch for an hour, watching flakes twirl around each other, hot mug in hand. 

Each of those peaceful moments were supposed to be spent with Fives. You often imagined him sitting next to you, wondering what he’d say or do, if he’d try to catch fireflies and how many he’d beat you by. You wondered if he’d experienced snow before, if he’d have the same light in his eyes that you did when he first saw it fall. Over time it became less of a bitter ache for what could have been, and more of a sweet gratitude for his memory, for having the ability to imagine him there at all. In turning that broken down house into a home, you could grieve and start to come to terms with the future you’d never have. But as time approached your first Life Day without Fives, it was like the whole grieving process restarted. 

You never had the chance to celebrate together. He was always deployed. You never complained, he was where he was needed, but you were always a little downcast. You’d rather him be home with you than at risk of being shot by some Separatist droid.

You delayed decorating longer than you ever had. By the time you went to town to get a tree, nearly the entire lot had been sold. You thought about trekking into the woods surrounding your home to find one, but they were almost guaranteed to be too tall or wide to fit through either door. So, you brought home the best one you were able to scrounge up out of the last pickings. It was a bit scrawny, with thin spots here and there, but it was soft and sturdy and could—without a doubt—fit through your door. 

You cried when you finally got it settled in the living room. He would’ve loved the smell. He would’ve gotten sap all over himself, cursing how it stuck to everything and was so hard to wash off, but loved it all the same. He would’ve loved the crackling of wood in the fireplace, how different it was from the hustle and bustle of traffic on Coruscant or blaster-fire in the field. You could see him thundering into the mudroom, arms full of logs for the fire, stomping as much snow off his boots as he could. He’d look up at you, nose red from the cold, and smile that smile that made your face flush, heart flutter, and stomach do backflips. 

You’d gotten good at building fires. The house didn’t have an electric heating system. Pipes of water ran through the floors, warmed by the furnace in the kitchen. You’d often come back from trips to the village and find it completely cold. You considered yourself lucky; one of your neighbors taught you to split wood. Most of the time he provided it himself, on account of his darling wife (who swore up and down she’d teach you to bake the spiced apple pie her grandchildren loved). All you had to do was carry it to the house from the barn. Granted, it was a trek through almost knee-high snow to get it, but you’d rather that than freezing. 

You still hadn’t decorated your tree by Life Day’s Eve. You didn’t have the heart to, so the boxes sat in a corner. You avoided walking through the living room altogether. The very thought of the tree got shoved to the back of your mind, having almost intentionally forgotten the whole reason you bought it in the first place. You could heal your Life Day heart another year. 

Instead, you filled your time helping your sweetheart neighbors in preparing for their guests. She asked for your help the week before, assuring you it’d be then that she’d teach you to make that blessed pie. You stood in the kitchen with her from dawn to dusk, measuring and mixing and getting covered in flour. By sunset, a full day’s meals and feast awaited the next morning’s oven. 

She thanked you profusely for your time and help, insisting you join them for Life Day festivities. You assured her that you were grateful for the invitation, but didn’t want to intrude on her family gathering. She persisted again, citing her fear that you two made too much food, and you relented to join them for dinner. She smiled gleefully, ushering you out the door. 

The walk home wasn’t quite as lonely as you expected. Sure, your shoulders were weighed down a good bit that Fives wouldn’t be there, but you felt a little lighter. 

Snow crunched beneath your feet. You shivered in a particularly cold gust of wind, hugging your coat tighter on yourself to shield against it. The house is going to be freezing. 

As you made the turn onto your drive, you immediately headed for the barn to get more wood for the furnace. Approaching the pile, you huffed a few breaths on your hands to warm them and heaved several logs into your arms. You followed the path back to the house and into the mudroom, dropping your haul to the floor before shaking snow from your coat and boots. 

You leaned over to untie your boot laces when it struck you.

The house was warm. 

You wrinkled your brow in confusion. Had you put that much wood in the furnace before you left? Surely not, you were gone all day, it’d still be burnt out. It should’ve been cold. 

Footsteps sounded from the living room, shooting a cold lightning bolt of fear down your spine. You fought the urge to freeze, flattening yourself against the wall adjacent to the living room door. Heart pounding, you peeked around the frame. The light was on. When you saw no one, you darted into the kitchen, careful to keep your footfall light. 

You went straight for the furnace, grabbing the firewood poker from its rack. Your knuckles whitened, poker gripped tightly against you. 

You rounded the corner of the dining room, holding your makeshift weapon in front of you. Still you saw no one. You frowned, wondering if you’d been mistaken. 

You stepped through the foyer, hands shaking with adrenaline. No footsteps and no shadows. 

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to the living room. Still you saw no source of the footsteps you could’ve sworn you heard. 

A floorboard creaked behind you, sending your heart into your throat as you gasped and whipped around. 

Fives, wrapped in grungy blacks and holey socks, raised his hands in defense. 

The room spun and you faltered backward, your grip on the fire poker loosening as it clattered to the floor. You raised both hands to your head, gripping your own hair and trying to make sense of what you were seeing. 

He took a step toward you. “Hey,” he rasped. 

You held a hand out in a gesture to stop, falling to your knees. 

He stopped and stood his ground, fighting an overwhelming instinct to run to you and swaddle you in his arms. 

Countless tears slid down your cheeks, hands shaking for an entirely different reason this time. You pressed your palms into your eyes and rubbed them. Blinking hard, you looked back to him. “How? How are you here? Alive?” 

Fives took a tentative half-step toward you, kneeling down closer to your level. “It’s a long story,” he said softly. “I had to protect you from—” 

You launched yourself at him, knocking him to the floor as your arms swung around his middle. His arms were quick to wrap around you, hugging you close like he would soon wake up and you’d be long gone. 

Your body shook with sobs, forehead pressed into his chest and fists balling up in the back of his shirt. He held you, rubbing your back and planting gentle kisses atop your head, until your shaking stilled and breathing grew more even. 

Even after you calmed down, you stayed where you were, both of you relishing the familiarity of each other after so long. You tilted your head to look at him, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he was even alive. 

“I’m so sorry I’ve been gone so long. There’s so much to tell you,” Fives broke the silence quietly, meeting your gaze. 

You sighed, reaching up to hold his cheek in the palm of your hand. He leaned into your touch, cupping your hand in his. “You can start with how you’re alive,” you spoke, voice trembling. “I mourned you, Fives. I– I really thought I’d never see you again.” 

Fives brought his hand to your face, wiping away a fresh tear with his thumb. “I know, Rex kept me updated as best he could.” He averted his gaze, shifting into a thousand yard stare. 

A thousand more questions ran through your mind, but you said nothing, letting him find the words. 

After several beats passed, he inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I was trying to find anyone who would listen and believe me, but… well, that’s an even longer story. I was sure the Chancellor would listen, but I was wrong. He was part of it.” Fives paused again, a pained look passing across his face. “I got shot. And I was dead, for a bit, but Kix got me back. Rex thought it was best to keep it quiet, after everything.” 

Your breath hitched, fresh tears welling up. “Even from me?” 

Fives turned his head back to you, hand returning to your cheek. “I hated to, but it was the best option to protect you from the same people who wanted me dead. Anyone who knew what I knew was in danger.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “Once I healed, I spent every waking moment making sure they wouldn’t come after you.”

Your lips trembled and you pressed your face back into his chest, another embrace swallowing you both. You flattened both hands to his back, breathing in his memory-laden smell. 

“After the Empire took over and things started settling down, I went back to the apartment,” Fives mumbled. “Shira never rented it back out, everything was how you left it.” 

You pulled away and sniffled. “Really?”

He nodded. “I guess she hoped you’d come back.” He shifted and reached behind him, fishing a folded slip of paper from his back pocket. “I wish I could thank her, I was able to grab this.” 

Fives held the paper out to you. You took it between two fingers and unfolded it, revealing a real, printed photo of you and the entire Domino squad, back when you and Fives had first gotten together. You had the holo-copy, but left the printed one behind for the sake of space and anonymity in your travels. 

You were rendered speechless, absently thumbing the edge of the photo. “I can’t… I can’t believe it.” 

Fives grinned. “Of all the things that happened today, the picture is what you can’t believe?” 

You chuckled and smacked his arm, a smile breaking across your face. 

Fives’ grin broadened.  

“Why come here now?” You asked, looking back up at him from the photo. “You said you went back when things started settling down. It’s been over 6 months, has it really been that chaotic?” 

Fives shook his head. “Things settled in pretty quickly, at least on Coruscant. Rex survived. I was able to meet with him, and we started helping our brothers that didn’t want to serve the Empire.” 

You hummed in response, turning back to the photo in your hands. He watched your eyes go from each member of the squad to the next, remembering them solemnly.

He whispered your name, drawing your attention back to him. Tears shone in his eyes. “I thought you left, really left.” His voice cracked, a drop sliding down his cheek. “I thought maybe you’d gone off to start a new life.” 

Your jaw fell slightly agape as you sat rooted to the spot, a bit astonished. You set the photo to the side and sat up, shuffling yourself to look him in the eyes.  “Fives, you are my life. If I had to spend the rest of my days alone, hoping and waiting for you to come back to me, I would.” It was your turn to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Your heart ached at the longsuffering now evident in his eyes. “It was always in the plan to live in this house together. I came here to escape the Empire and to try to heal, not move on from you altogether. I don’t think I could ever manage that.” 

Fives’ breath quivered. He cupped the nape of your neck in both hands, pulling you closer to rest his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you rested a palm on one of his hands. He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, breath mingling with yours. Your noses brushed against each other, lips tingling at the closeness. Slowly, tenderly, as if he was afraid of hurting you, he inched his lips closer until they met with yours. 

You had kissed him hundreds of times, but none of them came close to the warmth and relief and comfort that settled in your bones with that kiss. You were quick to lose your breath, pulling away gasping for air yet longing for another. 

Fives hovered inches away, catching his breath as you did. His eyes drifted open, gaze soft and dazed. 

You brought a hand to his chin, running a finger over his lower lip. “I’ve missed kissing you,” you sighed. 

He chuckled and grasped your hand, massaging your palm with his thumb. “You have no idea.” 

You both froze as an unmistakable rumble erupted from Fives. You burst into a fit of laughter, a sheepish grin tugging at Fives’ mouth. 

“Hungry?” You laughed, standing to your feet and offering out your hands for him. 

“As a rancor,” He confirmed, taking your hands and standing without tugging them. 

You spent the following couple hours cooking a quick meal together, including the pie your neighbor taught you, which filled the house with the warm scent of cinnamon. You paused occasionally for a kiss or a brief cry. The amount of joy and relief surging through your mind, body, and soul sometimes became overwhelming. Fives was dead, yet, there he stood. In your house that could now truly become a home. Your bed would no longer be half empty. Your table would be one plate fuller. All this, and you could hardly believe it was true. 

“Why is it naked?” 

Fives’ question jarred you from your thoughts. You looked to him, standing in the living room staring at the Life Day Tree. 

“Oh.” You stood from the table and moved to stand next to him. “Well, it didn’t feel right decorating it without you here.” You answered plainly. 

He turned his gaze to meet yours. “But we’d never decorated one together before, why not this one?”

You looked at your feet, slightly embarrassed at the scrawny condition of the tree, though Fives didn't question that. “Because we were supposed to do everything here together. I fought through everything else, but this… I don’t know— it just didn’t feel right.”

Fives grabbed ahold of your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well I’m here now.” 

You smiled softly, giving his hand a return squeeze. “Yeah, you’re here now.” 

Fives turned in place, looking around the room. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” He released your hand and took a few paces. “Did you do all of it by yourself?”

You shook your head. “No, some neighbors helped, and a couple things were too far out of my scope so I hired help from in town.” You shuffled to the door frame, leaning against it. “It was a lot, but it was all I could do to keep from losing my mind.” 

Fives stopped and stood in place, looking at you with eyes so full of regret you wondered if he held an entire galaxy’s worth of guilt. 

You pushed yourself off the frame and crossed the room in large strides, wrapping your arms around him. “Don’t think like that,” you whispered, “You’re here now.” 

He sighed and draped his arms around you, accepting your reassurance. “How do you always know,” he relented. 

Fives jolted suddenly, interrupting the embrace to point at a box in the corner, something shiny glimmering between the edges of cardboard. “What’s that?”

You turned to look at what he was referring to and opened your mouth to answer, but Fives beat you to it, crossing the room and opening the lid. He looked back to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Can we?” 

You sighed and tried to bite back a smile, ultimately failing. “Fives, it’s late, can we do it in the morning?” 

“Come on,” he droned playfully, “What’s the use of having it dressed up for one day?” 

Crossing your arms in mock indecision, you brought a hand to tap a finger on your chin. “But if we leave it up for a month, it’s the same, isn’t it?” 

Fives picked up a bundle of lights, unspooling it. “No,” he deadpanned. 

You scoffed out a laugh, marching over to join him. 

The remainder of the evening was spent dolling up your dinky little Life Day tree. You taught Fives how to put lights on without leaving dark spots, how to attach hooks to ornaments and space them out, and how to top it. By the time it was finished, you were so exhausted from the day you were starting to see double. 

You and Fives plopped yourselves down on the sofa, cheap as it was, and leaned back to admire your handiwork. 

“Not bad, for a Life Day Tree shiny,” you smirked lazily. 

Fives gasped, looking at you as if offended. “You take that back!” 

You raised your hands weakly in defense. “I said not bad!” 

He grinned and threw an arm around the back of the sofa. You scooted over to lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

You both sat in silence for a while, a delicate kind of reverence settling over you. You both knew the magnitude of this Life Day in particular. You had each given each other a new meaning for the day. You, giving him a reason to fight on and live. And him, giving you a reason to celebrate life; the fact that he was still alive and with you, namely. 

Eventually, Fives opened his mouth to break the silence with a question, but froze when he glanced at you. You were passed clean out, mouth slightly ajar. Fives chuckled softly, enamored by the way the light of the tree danced across your skin. 

Carefully, he slid his arm behind your shoulders and the other below your knees. As he stood and scooped you in his arms, you stirred, mumbling that you could walk before promptly falling back asleep. 

Fives carried you through the living room, the mudroom, and upstairs to the bedroom, leaning to gently settle you on the bed. One by one, he unlaced and tugged your boots off, followed by your socks, then tucked you under the blankets. After placing a featherlight kiss to your head, he turned and headed back downstairs. 

Fives made sure the doors and windows were closed and locked, refilled the furnace, and made his way back to the foyer. He reached into his coat pocket, retrieved what he needed, and stepped back into the living room. 

He approached the Life Day Tree, pausing to absorb the beauty you added to his life, the joy you brought him in a single evening. After every separation you both endured during the war, then the worst separation of all, and you still loved him more than he felt worthy of. You were steadfast, funny, generous and kind, the most enchanting and incredible woman he’d ever met. And you chose him to love. Of all people in the galaxy, a soldier back from the dead.

More confident in his decision than ever, he crouched down and placed a small, square box under the tree. He leaned over to unplug the lights for the night and stepped back. 

Once back upstairs, he removed his hole-infested socks and climbed in bed next to you. He turned on his side, a quiet yet overwhelming contentment filling him as he refreshed his memory of every detail in your face. He itched to kiss you, to hold you close every hour of the night, but he dared not disturb your peace. 

Minutes ticked by and his eyes grew increasingly heavy. Fives fought sleep, afraid he might wake up and find the whole evening with you was a dream. Eventually he could fight it no longer, his eyes fluttering shut, falling into a more restful sleep than he’d had all year.

End Notes: Phew! That was a bit longer than I meant it to be! To be completely honest there was still a bit more I wanted to add, namely a few tidbits of Life Day itself, but I kinda love this ending and don't want to push it. I also ran out of steam lol. Not too shabby for my first Star Wars fic, I think. First fic since I was in high school, actually.

I hope you enjoyed, and Happy Life Day!

Dividers by @enchanthings and @strangergraphics

[lightofraye]

Friday the 15th

Despite the title of this post, no I'm not trying to make a kind of scary Friday the 13th (15th) thing. More... I have a huge life event coming up and the anxiety is getting to me.

It's a natural anxiety. When someone goes through something huge, they react in various ways. For a wedding, for example, it's a tremendous step. If they're 100% certain in that step, it's full of joy and perhap anxiety something will go wrong with the ceremony as opposed to anxiety about the person they're marrying. Moving across country can be anxiety inducing, despite the excitement and prospect of something new experiences.

Then there's surgery. Even the most minor of surgeries can be anxiety inducing because of what could go wrong. When I had a deviated septum fixed, the doctor actually outlined how it was a basic, minor surgery with potential for a lot of bad happening. So, you know, yay?

Now I have a new, terrifying surgery coming up. It's a necessary surgery, one that I had been forced to reschedule due to getting infected with influenza A just mere days prior. I was so sick that I was down and out of work for six weeks. It affected my voice (I still hear it time to time), my breathing, and I still wonder about the lingering symptoms I have. (Hard to tell if it's allergies or lingering influenza, honestly. But all tests say I'm fine, so...)

This surgery had been a long time coming. My doctor and I had been observing the symptoms, the cause of said symptoms, and it was only late last year that I decided it was time. The minor means of dealing with the issue weren't possible because the issue was too large--and those minor means were 1) extremely painful and 2) doesn't stop the issues from coming back.

I'm being very vague. So I'll say it outright now. What's the issue I'm referring to? Fibroids. Uterine fibroids, to be precise.

I had the issue start well over five years ago. Little minor symptoms that kept happening... and then kept staying. To the point where I gave up and tracked down my ob gyn because my mother had those symptoms that led to cervical cancer and I was not going to leave my young son alone to face his abusive father on his own.

Turned out, it wasn't cervical cancer. Or even uterine cancer. (Thank gods.) No... it was a fibroid. A growing fibroid, actually. Already by the time it was detected, a myomectomy was impossible. That'd work for small fibroids, and mine was already beyond the acceptable size. An ablation wasn't possible either, as the fibroid meant spots would be missed and the symptoms would continue.

My ob gyn had to refer me to a different ob gyn for a very simple, frustrating reason: it was a Catholic hospital and any treatment that'd work to stop the issues of the fibroid was against their policies.

Fortunately I found a great ob gyn and she agreed with my other ob gyn. We inserted a Mirena IUD to handle the biggest symptom--ongoing bleeding--and decided to monitor every six months. Every six months, it showed signs of growing. And growing.

Then it... stopped. So we decided that as long as the IUD was stopping the bleeding and I was doing okay, we'd just do a wait and see.

Well... late last year, it was getting worse again. Other symptoms appeared, too TMI for comfort, but let's say the bathroom and I were becoming too well acquainted.

So a hysterectomy was scheduled. It was supposed to have been the first week of April and I got hit with influenza late March. We waited until I felt better and other life events got sorted. We thought I'd be okay.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

I called my ob gyn and said "We need it out. It's getting painful." The fibroid was creating problems that are affecting me body-wide. Minor from weird ass chin hairs that were growing thick and repeatedly, something I never had before. (The fibroid is disrupting hormones on a very wide scale, much like PCOS.) To intense discomfort in my lower abdomen.

What's interesting are the other irrational thoughts happening. It's a discussing having been held before by other women who have also undergone such similar procedures.

Am I any less a woman for losing the uterus? The answer, naturally, is NO. Even if I were to lose my breasts as well as my uterus, I'm still a woman. Because I say I'm a woman. I lose pieces of the body to maintain the whole.

My health will be so much better for the loss of the uterus, especially as the fibroid will be gone and things settle on multiple layers. Hormones will be back to normal (after some disruption). The pain and discomfort will be gone. I presume that weird chin hair that keeps coming back will finally surrender the ghost.

Even so, it's a major life step. A major surgery that, thankfully, has become more routine. We're planning on using the daVinci Surgical System and hope no issues will occur. It's actually outpatient now, which has me stunned.

My daughter and daughter-in-law will monitor me after the surgery. The next few weeks after, I'll have to be careful with even light objects--I won't be allowed to lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. (That's about 8 pounds, by the way.) That'll be frustrating for me, as I do a lot of heavy lifting on the regular.

But my health will be better. Eventually I'll heal. Eventually I'll celebrate no more purchases of hygiene products. I joked we'll have a "Yeet the Uterus" party, but we just might.

I'll never have to worry about unplanned pregnancies again, so that's something. Yes, even at my age, it can happen.

November the 15th is going to be a big day for me.

[alevicke]

Killers x GN!Reader with acne & low self esteem

-----

Reader has acne problems despite being an adult. Has some self esteem issues due to this. But your fave couldn't even care. What they love you for goes beyond that

Anna (The Huntress), Adiris (The Plague), Susie (The Legion) Pyramid Head (The executioner)

-----

TW: Obviously acne mention, depression. Please understand this is pretty self indulgent. I know what it is to go through this, it hurts but you aren't alone

Also, I have no beta reader nor anything, sorry if it’s not good!

-----

ANNA (THE HUNTRESS)

She is genuinely confused by your worries.

She actually doesn't really understand what's acne. In fact, she doesn't even believe it's something bad.

I mean, she faced puberty which is when she had more acne but... She wasn't around other humans or people to point it out or make her feel embarrassed of that. She was more concerned about hunting and surviving in the forest

Thing is... She actually has a lot of acne nowadays. She doesn't take care of her skin at all, only of wounds, and doesn't clean her face unless you really tell her to do it and... All that dust and dirt in her skin makes her have some acne issues

It's not like she really cares, she even has scars because she scratches them

She doesn't know she supposes to let them be

And, you know what? SCARS ARE COOL

In her eyes, she believes those are cool and are similar to freckles

To her eyes, you're the most beautiful person she has ever met. She loves every single thing of you, every single part and every single inch

Then, why would she dislike something you and she have in common?

You could try to explain it to her but... It just doesn't click on her. It's natural, it's human, it's lovable

She loves you the way you are

Still, her way of showing you love is basically keeping you in her arms for as long as possible. You know she’s clingy

She will kiss you the whole time, even more than normally. Expect to have slight bruises in your face from how many times she presses her face against yours (joking)

Oh, and she will huge you like a teddy bear. You’ll basically be carried like like a baby 24/7 until you smile and trust her words

She loves you <3

ADIRIS (THE PLAGUE)

Well, sadly, when it comes to insecurities, Adiris can be the queen

She 100% understands you and will be by your side. She's the sweetest person in the world when it come to these topics

She's soft with every single word. Gentle. She doesn't want to say anything that could upset you

But she wants you to know that she's there for you and she loves you

She understand your securities though

And you know she does

It doesn't matter how many times you tell her you love her. It doesn't matter how many times you tell how much you find her beautiful. And it doesn't matter how many times you kiss her

She's still scared

But bit by bit, she's learning and realizing that it's true and you see more than her scars, than her sickness and her wounds. You see more than her weaknesses. You see past what everyone finds disgusting

You see a soul, a loving woman who cherishes you with her whole heart and it aches her to see you suffer and struggle

But she's there for every second you feel insecure. And for every mean comment you say she will kiss you two times to prove you wrong

There is nothing you can say that can change her mind

But, truth being said, sometimes, you just want to let your feelings out... And for those times, she's there as well

English is not her native language but she's been in the realm for long enough for both of you to understand and communicate and when you need to talk, you know she's there

You can let every insecurity you have out and she's going to be there for you

She will stay quiet and hug you for all you want and reassure you that she's there for you

SUSIE (THE LEGION)

Although she had her skin issues when she was adolescent, she has perfect skin now

Well, one or two pimples when her period comes because hormones are a bitch and she hates it

But not because of the acne, it's just that she gets annoyed by all the blood she didn't ask for and dealing with it

Other than that she's always pretty happy around

That's until you decide to talk to her and tell her your insecurities...

Much like Adiris, it pains her to see you struggling for your self esteem and your appearance and wants to cheer you up by being by your side

She loves you the way you are and she hates you cannot see what she sees. She really wishes she could make you see through her eyes the beauty she sees in you

She's extremely worried especially when you talk about using a mask

At first, she thought it would be cute both of you use masks and didn't think too much into it

Until she realized that your reason behind it was to cover your face due to how embarrassed you felt

She could feel her heart break into pieces discovering that and she didn't want you to use a mask. Fck being tweenies with masks, she wants to see your beautiful face

(Although she hates seeing your face when you're suffering in trials when you both have to fight. Stupid Entity)

She won’t stop you if you really really want to use a mask, but she will strongly discourage it and would like you to take it off as soon as you both are together

After all, she wants to be able to caress your cheek without any problem, to kiss you and smush her face against you without anything interrupting or getting in the middle

She’s not really good when it comes to conversations so she’s most likely going to try to cheer you up with different things when you are feeling bad

Videogames, snacks, snuggling, even annoying Frank and pranking him if that could make you smile

You have been with Susie for long enough to be accepted into Legion so… Yeah, Julie and Joey are most likely going to help you

After everything, all she cares about is making you happy and smile

PYRAMID HEAD (THE EXECUTIONER)

Pyramid Head already has problems understanding human feelings and issues. He cannot even talk and communicate properly which has been a problem in your relationship several times. But you both can work it out

When you’re feeling sad, he doesn’t really understand what’s going on at first

He goes through all points that make sense in his mind first

Did someone hurt you? A bad trial? Did Danny bother you again taking photos without your permission? Did another survivor use you as a sandbag or tea bagged you while hooked?

Whatever it was, he was ready to get his hands dirty (and full of blood)

What he didn’t expect was to hear you say you felt bad about your appearance, about yourself

What do you even mean? He likes you the way you are. How come you don’t see it as well? He didn’t fall in love with others, he isn’t attracted to others, he’s surprised he cannot see your beauty as he does

And just for a few red marks and little wounds? He gets HUGE scars and wounds in trials. And he never thought they could be bothering besides the danger aspect which doesn’t really matter under Entity’s protection

But in all honesty, if it’s something that’s bothering you or making you feel bad, he is worried and wants to help you

He still doesn’t know and needs some guidance about how to help you though

He’ll try his own way of cheering you up. Most of them can include a bit of brutality though, like; Beating up whatever killer even dares to touch you in any trial, making a survivor chug their flashlight if they even dare to abandon you and similar stuff

He will also bring more gifts. Not the best, like dead flowers, but come on, he’s trying to cheer you up. And in his realm there aren’t many good things to pick from. Unless you want a broken student’s chair

He’ll make sure to pick you up and hug you way more often and while he cannot kiss you he’ll be gently cupping your cheek and softly caressing your lips with his thumb, as a sign that if he could he would really love to kiss you

[tarotchariot]

I would like to post something very off topic just to ensure others are careful with their pets.

If you have a pet that likes to eat/destroy things and they do so easily: Please take away any toys that include thread or string.

String/rope toys may seem very typical, normal and harmless. They are usually in many households as an easy,cheap option as well. However, there is deep harm that they can cause if the string/rope/thread is ingested.

Of course, all toys will usually have a typical guide to supervise and throw away when destroyed. However, with how messy rope and string can get when bitten or chewed, it may be hard to tell if they have already ingested it, or if you would class it as destroyed.

In my eyes, it is far too risky and the severe repercussions are not communicated effectively enough from these companies. In my experience, I would never have purchased one of these toys in my entire life for any pet, if I had known what it could do. Other toys are much more suitable.

If you do not like to hear about medical injury in detail, or are sensitive, or have had a bad experience - please ignore the rest of this post.

When rope/thread etc is ingested, it cannot be digested. It continues through the stomach and into the digestive tract. The digestive tract is of course an extremely soft and vulnerable organ. To digest and get food through it tends to make small movements to move things along. The string can become entangled in itself and very stubbornly refuses to pass easily. It then can create a blockage in any part of the system. This results in an inability to keep food or water, creating dehydration which can be fatal in itself as well as massive weight loss, vomiting, diarrhea(until nothing can be passed), lethargy and general pain/discomfort.

With all the movement that the organ makes, the string can tighten and become very taught. You know how tough rope etc can be if you pull it against something? For example people have cut meat with string.

If that string or thread continues to be moved it can become very tight and even cut right through the tract. Not just once, but twice, three times or more. It is beyond extreme pain that no animal should suffer. Not only that, there can then be leakages that could be fatal as a result of infection etc.

While of course we know to be generally cautious with our pets, sometimes we may not see things, our pets like to sneak behind our backs sometimes, and we can think something is harmless to the point we don't pay attention. Things can happen in 2 minutes of you doing a chore. There are many situations where things can happen. This is just to warn you that rope toys and similar can create unimaginable situations, especially when you aren't aware of what it can cause when it goes wrong. I highly recommend throwing rope toys away, but if you don't, ensure you are really watching that they're not sneakily eating any of it. I don't recommend leaving them alone with it for even a second.

You may think nothing has ever happened, so it's fine. But you can't 100% control your pet and because of that, something unusual may happen. Something severe. I urge you to be cautious, not to create fear in you, but to reduce it in the future potentially.

Thanks to anyone who reads this, I wish all of you and your pets good luck and amazing health.

[syndrossi]

look i’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of the asks/comments i have from the most recent chapter but for now i gotta talk about this scenario my brain started forming on the commute back home from work. (it’s a 20-25-30min something drive depending on traffic) so i had a lot of time to think about shit whilst epic trailer music played in the background.

so, the scenario is most likely someone daemon has wronged in the past or someone that blames daemon for some misfortune or betrayal.

at some point in their lives, either when they’re teenagers, young adults, or hell when they’re twelve if you want, the kiddies get kidnapped again. only this time, they’re more of an insurance policy to keep daemon in line whilst torturing him with the fact that his kids have been taken again. i’m just now realizing this could have been more of a dance-era situation but don’t be limited by that!

daemon has caught one of main guys, probably the orchestrated responsible, but he can’t just kill him, he has to find out where are his sons and he’s the only lead. the guy responds with vague comments, that eerie type shit kind of like alys rivers but less fun. he then reveals that he will tell daemon where his sons are, he just won’t be able to save both them.

he reveals that he sent one to the stepstones, the eldest that takes after his father. and he sent the other beyond the wall to the land of always winter, the younger who matches the landscape. daemon never considered his sons would be separated. and now here’s the real fuckery of it all, the guy threatens daemon that within [insert time limit] his men will be instructed to kill his sons, he’ll only tell daemon where they both are at the last second [daemon also wouldn’t have time to contact rhaenyra or laenor or rhaenys or any other dragonrider bc there just isn’t enough time to get them here and they’re fucking far away atm], as he would only be able to fly to one of them with enough time to save them, leaving the other to die. so he asks daemon which son he was willing to sacrifice. daemon is horrified by the idea of it.

that’s all i got so far.

although i do have this fun little thought that whilst this dude is threatening his sons and forcing daemon to go through this mental torture of sacrificing one of his sons to save the other, the one that takes after him or the one that looks like him? and during that time we cut to this figure dripping in blood walking through the castle or keep or wherever daemon and this guy are atm. we keep cutting back to daemon and this guy and back to the guy dripping in blood getting closer to where daemon is. we keep seeing shots of hands bloodied and bruised, clothes stained red, loud boots, and then the shot focuses when the door opens and both men see jon, drenched in blood from head to toe (reminiscing of daemon when he killed the crabfeeder/older jon when he fought in TBOTB). jon doesn’t say a word, he just pounces on the guy, beating him senseless until daemon grabs him, he focuses on his son, they hug, etc etc, and now we can go get rhaegar.

except rhaegar is 100% having his own little side adventure bc he def escaped. and might end up found by some men of the night’s watch or something. but he definitely would have to go through some rough patches, having to survive in the cold wild for a while until he’s found or he finds them.

this is also kinda bad bc now daemon and jon are tryna find rhaegar but now rhaegar is gone, and it’s just like SHIT, how are they gonna find each other again??

- i have no idea what to do with the hatchlings during this holy shit

Funnily enough, ravens and dragons fly about the same distance a day on average. (Slightly more for ravens, maybe 300 miles per day vs a more standard 250 miles for a dragon.) But dragons CAN push themselves. So evil villain could literally just send ravens with a "kill them" order and Daemon would have to choose which raven to race.

Evil villain would have to be very unhinged not to cash in on Volantis's extravagant bounty on either of the boys (let's say they're twelve), so definitely someone Daemon has pissed off beyond measure, likely at the Stepstones. (Or Allard, stripped of power and honor, driven to revenge? Becoming the villain he's always been in Daemon's mind?)

The twins have a special bond with their dragons that allows them, especially when older, to call them from an impressive distance for short periods of time. So it could be that Jon's dragon strays into range if he flies out looking for him (the Stepstones are much closer to King's Landing/Dragonstone than the North is), allowing Jon to pull a daring escape that involves carving a bloody path through his captors and flying back to Daemon, either to carve a new bloody path if the location is controlled by the enemy, or to scare the living daylights out of anyone who comes across his dried blood-flaked clothes and hair as he storms up to wherever Daemon is.

Meanwhile, I could see Rhaegar being his usual uncannily charming self, armed with knowledge of the Old Tongue, which he insisted a tutor be hired to teach them once Jon mentioned its relevance to his original struggle with the Others. Eerie, pale-haired child who can speak the Old Tongue and sings songs of ice and dragons? The band of wildlings who stumble upon him after he escapes his original captors aren't sure what to do with the boy other than bring him back north of the Wall. Ultimately, Rhaegar convinces them that they will be cursed if they do not take him to Winterfell, which is where they eventually reunite.

[rubilune]

Cheng Xiaoshi: There are some things beyond our understanding. We must accept them and learn from them. Because these moments of crisis are also potential moments of faith. A time, when we either come together or fall apart. Nature always has a way of balancing itself. The only question is, what part will we play?

Lu Guang: Did you just make that up?

Cheng Xiaoshi: No. I read it in a fortune cookie once.

Lu Guang:

Cheng Xiaoshi: A really long fortune cookie.

Lu Guang: Hello, my name is Failure, and you're watching my life crumble into pieces.

Lu Guang: *waves his finger and sings like they're in a Disney Channel intro*

Lu Guang after seeing Cheng Xiaoshi die once again:

Cheng Xiaoshi: Why is Qiao Ling making me do the dishes again? You haven’t washed them in a week, Lu Guang!

Lu Guang: It’s because I’m Qiao Ling’s favorite.

Cheng Xiaoshi: I hate you.

Lu Guang, also known as a universe destroyer for his 100% platonic bff: Why would you wanna save the galaxy? It's full of idiots anyway.

Cheng Xiaoshi: Because I'm one of the idiots that lives in it!

Lu Guang: Are you sure

Cheng Xiaoshi: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

Lu Guang: It was me...

Cheng Xiaoshi: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

This could work either way but I have you know what in mind

Lu Guang: I have an idea.

Qiao Ling: A good idea?

Lu Guang: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Lu Guang after deciding he's not going to be left hoeless

Lu Guang: How do you tell someone that you wanna have sex with them in a polite way?

Cheng Xiaoshi: Excuse me Mx. Would you give me the honours of indulging in sexual activities with you?

Qiao Ling: What the fuck is wrong with you two?

Cheng Xiaoshi: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere...

Qiao Ling: Only as their rodeo clown.

In my defense all I'll say is that they are so siblings, your honor

Someone irrelevant, to Qiao Ling: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up!

Qiao Ling: *proceeds to kick them in the shin and run away*

Lu Guang, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Qiao Ling cute or small.

I support the feral and armed with medical equipment Qiao Ling Agenda

Qiao Ling: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Captain Xiao: Wasn’t Cheng Xiaoshi with you?

Cheng Xiaoshi: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Cheng Xiaoshi: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once (several times) and it offends me.

Is the following one in character? No did the idea make me laugh? Yes.

Captain Xiao: *double checking supplies in the boat* Compass. CB radio. Sunscreen.

Qiao Ling: Hot dog costumes!

Captain Xiao: I’m sorry, what?

Qiao Ling: You know, in case we get lost at sea, and one of us, probably Lu Guang, goes mad with hunger, we’ll put these on. Lu Guang hates hot dogs, so they probably won’t eat us.

Captain Xiao: Are you saying that Lu Guang would rather eat us than hot dogs?

Lu Guang: I do hate hot dogs.

Qiao Ling: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me.

Cheng Xiaoshi: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!

Cheng Xiaoshi: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward.

Lu Guang: I’m worried about you.

Cheng Xiaoshi: If I punch myself and it hurts, am I weak or strong?

Qiao Ling: Strong.

Captain Xiao: Weak.

Lu Guang: An idiot, is what your are.

Lu Guang: And here we see Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi in their natural habitat. Texting eachother variations of the word "garlic bread" to try to make eachother laugh.

Qiao Ling: Gaelic bread.

Cheng Xiaoshi: Grueling brad.

Qiao Ling: Ha ha, glamorous beans.

Sibling behavior

Qiao Ling: Seriously, all you do is bitch.

Lu Guang: I happen to bitch the perfect amount for someone in my situation.

He actually does

In my mind Captain Xiao is actually now their parent

Captain Xiao: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you.

Captain Xiao: Ask me to kill for you.

Cheng Xiaoshi: ...First of all, calm down-

What I will always love about this man is he didn't even know them for more than a couple times and yet he never hesitated on helping them

Cheng Xiaoshi: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and killed it.

Cheng Xiaoshi: And I started thinking.

Cheng Xiaoshi: Like, it was just trying to get food.

Cheng Xiaoshi: What if I went to the fridge and it just slammed the door shut and snapped my neck?

Captain Xiao: Are you ok?

He isn't

Lu Guang: We all have our demons.

Lu Guang, grabbing Cheng Xiaoshi: This one’s mine.

And he isn't letting go

Cheng Xiaoshi: I regret nothing!!!

Lu Guang: I regret everything!!!

*insert the same old joke*

Cheng Xiaoshi: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Lu Guang!

Lu Guang: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

Lu Guang after the 3rd time travel:

Qiao Ling: You need a hobby.

Cheng Xiaoshi: I have a hobby!

Qiao Ling: Fawning over Lu Guang isn’t a hobby.

Cheng Xiaoshi after calling Lu Guang handsome for the 100th time

Qiao Ling: “Ladies and gentlemen” is unnecessarily gendered, overly formal, lengthy, and honestly, I’m falling asleep already. “Cowards” on the other hand, is inclusive to all genders, to the point, and dramatic.

Here I am again with my feral Qiao Ling agenda. I regret nothing

Cheng Xiaoshi: Lu Guang, you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break.

Lu Guang: DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

I don't even have to repeat the joke do I?

Cheng Xiaoshi, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK??

Cheng Xiaoshi, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

Tbh, I don't think he'd ever get a driving license in the first place, it would be too much of a hazard, but it is nice to dream

Captain Xiao: What's the most efficient way to burn calories?

Qiao Ling: Exercise more!

Cheng Xiaoshi: Set yourself on fire.

Lu Guang: There are two kinds of people.

Captain Xiao: *shatters a window and climbs through it*

Captain Xiao: *turns around and helps Cheng Xiaoshi through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Cheng Xiaoshi.

Cheng Xiaoshi: Okay.

*out grocery shopping*

Lu Guang: *takes a free sample twice*

Lu Guang: Robbery and Fraud. I am a Rebel.

I find that to be a bigger crime than breaking the entire universe tbh. At least in that he hasbhis homosexual tendencies to back him up

Captain Xiao: How do you type so fast?

Cheng Xiaoshi: Anxiety.

Lu Guang: What do I get?

Cheng Xiaoshi: A night of fashion, mischief, mayhem, and possible death.

Lu Guang: Ooh, check, check, and check; not sure about that last one.

Cheng Xiaoshi: It won't be me.

Lu Guang: I'll get my coat.

The joke will never get old will it? (It has, like 4 jokes ago, but I'm so unfunny I can't think of another one)

Qiao Ling: I did it! I memorized everything in the book! I'm gonna ace this test!

Cheng Xiaoshi: Ok, Qiao Ling, I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1918?

Qiao Ling: 1917.

Cheng Xiaoshi: ...You're ready.

I love them a healthy amount

[lutethebodies]

Rainy Day Rambles #12 & 35

It's raining outside and I'm waiting for a freelance client's contract and payment to go through, so I think I gotta make this Tumblr Brain Dump time. Wallpaper images are of this blog's main couple because some of it is about them. Long incoherent thoughts below the cut.

Getting Lost in Sunk Costs

I'm kinda souring on the idea of writing this fanfic anytime soon, if at all. Perhaps I overhyped it when I first had the idea. Regardless, it hasn't progressed much, and I think I may have had the wrong motivations to want to write it. One was feeling like my interpretation of a certain character wasn’t as legit because that interpretation had few or no fics associated with it. Now, that may actually be a great reason to write one for some folks (and that’s fine!). But of course something doesn’t need to be fanfic-ized to be a legitimate interpretation or enthusiasm. 

And I honestly think I’d be better at telling (such as analysis, which I think I've done well on this blog) instead of showing (creative fiction, which I don't do beyond shiposty skits) what I’m interested in when it comes to these things. That only applies to writing, though. I’m way better at songs/lyrics (or writing about songs/lyrics) and designy things than fiction. I once wrote and self-published a novel, which was a really long and tough process and was then wildly misinterpreted by people who should have known better. (The best thing about it was its cover and soundtrack.) I kinda don’t want to deal with all that again.

The other poor excuse for motivation I thought of was sort of a sunk-cost thing. All of my enthusiasms tend to result in me responding to them in creative original ways. I've responded to music I've loved throughout my life by learning to play instruments, write and record songs, play in groups with others, and produce live shows. I've responded to my favorite commercial fiction with the aforementioned novel/soundtrack. I've even done that with hobbies, responding in this decade to all the time I invested in D&D by creating a fantasy atlas and then writing/recording/releasing seven songs by my favorite original character. (I've flogged the latter two here many times so I'll spare my mutuals the repetitive links.)

I think I'd unconsciously (and then consciously) been trying to come up with a way to creatively respond to the substantial time and thought I'd invested in BG3—something I fell into under very specific circumstances, despite being indifferent to video games for decades—and I thought a fic would do that. Creating my own heroes in D&D was one thing, but in BG3 they get to move and (sometimes) talk and fuck! That warrants a serious response, right (don't answer that)? Never mind that I've already had a lifetime of wildly disparate and dubious attempts at plugging into various communities both online and IRL (all long stories for other venues and times). And never mind that I've already responded (maybe as much as I should have) with not only one remake of an old song but also this entire blog.

So I guess the sunk cost fallacy was alive and thriving at LTB HQ when I thought I'd write a fic. And a few of my very kind mutuals said they'd read it. But I think I've gotta shelve it for now (and maybe forever), and I think those folks will understand. I'm just not sure it's the best way for me to express what I want to about my beloved OCs, especially because it wouldn't (to me) feel 100% original. Not in the way my fantasy atlas does, at least—and that has the added advantage of being these OCs home turf, because outside of BG3 I really don't prefer the Forgotten Realms. I know none of that has to matter with fic, I get that. But I'm just not feeling it. It's not something the muse requires of me. 

I could make it a song, though…

And Now for Something Completely Different

Conversely, I'm still pretty amped for BG3’s upcoming Photo Mode. I know it's been promoted in hilariously salacious ways, but I'm actually looking forward to creating images of my blog's first couple (or any of my other BG3 ships) that aren't kiss- or sex-related. Not to be a prude or anything, because I don't think sexy images (or the people who love them) are bad, and of course this site is primarily fueled by such things, but at my point in life I feel like I want to create images that represent couples with more than cutesy puppy love going for them.

Now, I know that a couple needs a whole lotta cutesy puppy love at the beginning for their relationship to endure through decades of everything else that goes with being a couple. I guess I just find it repetitive, especially when there are so many other ways to convey a relationship's mutual affection, commitment, loyalty, etc. I was only half-joking with posts like "Hecklers Beware," you know? 

I've never commissioned sexy art of my characters and/or the infatuation-stage of their relationships because none of my OCs are actually shipped together in their original 5e incarnations, and I no longer feel compelled to share much about what and who they do that with in, say, BG3. Also at this point it kinda feels private, in that nobody else on here needs to see that—and depending on the character/ship, substantial amounts of people do not want to see that. I dunno. The times that I did do lots of "look at my pixel dolls in love" posts now seem like overcompensation for preferring a particular character ship that still feels relatively uncommon in that character's niche fandom. That might be a very silly thing to believe considering I've rightly spilled many pixels encouraging people to believe the exact opposite.

But like I said, I may have had the wrong motivation. There's a particular kind of knee-jerk, reactively defiant behavior that comes from insecurity, and I'm trying really hard to not indulge that in any context. I have a weakness for melodrama—I've been extremely susceptible to it in the past, both online and off—and constantly worrying about what other people who'm you've never met think about you is no way to go through life. Anyway this all feels quite convoluted—and while it's still worth posting, I think I'd better stop, not least because I have Actual Work to do today. So thanks for your patience. My OC posts/deep dives/shitposts/one-offs will continue as dictated by the muse. If it's compelling for me, it won't be bullshit for you.