#but may just go back to drawing DR stuff I need to finish

[lunarin64art]

Scollace Week Day 2: Pining(???)

Based on this

[enlitment]

Just finished Voltaire's Candide! (shout-out to @chaotic-history for the... vicarious recommendation? Recommendation by proxy?)

It was overall a very fun read and it had a great message and the end!

The beginning especially was certainly much more... graphic than I would have expected, with all the corpses and guts everywhere and the stuff constantly happening to all the female characters and... if I took a shot every time Candide got beat up I'd be dead... Once it got to the travelling it got really exciting though!

The pacing especially was great, things were happening so fast that it was almost impossible to get bored at any point. Lots of parts were also just laugh-out-loud funny. Voltaire had no chill whatsoever and I was there for it!

Some of my favourite bits, in no particular order:

The footnotes!! My edition had a lot of things explained, but most of it was just an itemised list of people Voltaire seemed to have a beef with, explaining why and how he mocks them in Candide. Case in point:

2. Everyone constantly running into each other even though they've travelled all over the world was really funny imo. Also the supposedly dead characters appearing in weird places. It was so ridiculous! I loved it.

3. Candide stroking the sheep (my footnotes said that it was probably a llama!) was just so wholesome? After having been through so much, the idea of him just hanging out on a ship, stroking a llama is just... 🥺 I need a drawing of that, asap.

4. Martin! Have I mentioned how much I love Martin? Martin is the absolute best. God I love Martin.

He had them arrested on the spot and told his men to escort them to prison. "I'm more Manichean than ever," said Martin.

idk why but this may be my favourite line, it's so dry, I adore it. I kind of want to use the line next time something bad happens.

5. I'm not sure how exactly to interpret it but I think that by having his characters choosing not to stay in El Dorado (basically this perfect utopian paradise of place where they could live in perfect comfort forever if they wanted to), V. points out something interesting about human nature.

I'd totally believe that we as humans are inclined to be always striving for something greater and don't actually want to be perfectly content... idk how to explain it properly. But, with the ending aside, it was one of the most philosophically interesting parts of the book for me.

6. The ending! I was really worried that it's just not going to have a happy ending at all, which I guess would serve to further emphasise how misguided Candide's genuine attempt at & Pangloss' faux optimism is.

But in the end, I was really glad that things turned out reasonably well for my precious meow--- for the characters because I really did care about them by the end and wanted them to be happy.

And let's be honest - the above is a solid thesis statement. Even better that it's essentially coming from a philosopher.

Kind of aligns with my bc thesis as well, a bit? I've sort of came to the conclusion that too much introspection and reasoning for reasoning's sake is just simply not good for our well-being (at least according to my guy™).

TL;DR: be right back. Gotta work on my garden and enjoy some candied lemon peels!

Bonus- literally just a funny paragraph roasting critics & Pangloss

[beesmygod]

old hunters DLC also highlights some themes of colonial violence and exploitation too, imo. what’s been done to the fishing village and kos ties the beast thing up with this idea that like, the impulse to Conquer and Dominate another leads directly to the Curse. It’s not enough to understand the old ones and the blood and all that, they needed to control it, to take it for themselves, and exploit it however they can. And now there’s wolfmans everywhere.

And this is in the core gameplay loop itself, we extract all the vials and blood echos and blood gems that we can in order to become strong enough to conquer more and more powerful prey. When we’re hit, we hit back harder and take back the life that was taken for us. Sure it’s ostensibly to Break the Curse and seek Paleblood and all that, but we know why we’re really doing it. Because it’s sick as hell, and feels awesome to best these monsters. The old hunters knew that too, and it turns them into giant horse creatures unable to do anything besides violence. That thirst for violence and power makes hunters turn into beasts, now only functioning as a cog in a perpetual violence machine. They lose their humanity not through repeated death like in Dark Souls, but through taking life. It turns the characters into monsters, and the players into wiki editors and lore theorists (aka monsters) bc we also can’t let go of the feeling Bloodborne gives us.

Tl;dr: Bloodborne is like if Spec Ops had any subtlety or desire to leave itself up to interpretation (probably helped by the fact that very little of what I’m talking about is likely intentional and I’m just insane)

OKAY im back from my appointment and finished my little treat. anon ("anon" @chicknparm who should get credit for these good thoughts) i could not agree more. i mentioned this in a previous post but finding a strand of commentary about the evils of colonialism made me worried i was becoming dangerously online, but it's a relief to see someone else mention this idea. i think you are absolutely right that one of the overt messages in bloodborne is that spilling blood for your own benefit leads to ruin. its actually kind of shocking how, in spite of the combat being the draw to these games, the message of most fromsoft games is a message of anti-violence. like, how many times do we end up fighting something that, in hindsight, needed to be put out of its misery. oh. shit. thinking about it, our player character is explicitly an outsider. the role of hunter of hunter is filled by outsiders...

also lol you are so right about the wiki based insanity but i think that's the consequences of insight poisoning. literally every once in a while while trying to edit this stupid bloodborne doc i think to myself "oooeergg too many eyes" and take a break for a few days

anyway, turning this back around to the colonialism theme, hear us out ok: watching/reading the sekiro lore videos/posts by shetani of shetani's lair helped introduce a lot of esoteric buddhist and shinto concepts that were totally novel and unknown to be as a baka gaijin. now these ideas are impossible not to see in all of from's other works.

i did a few days of research on "shinshi" (mostly a lot of stuff that turned out to not be relevant, but interesting) after becoming aware of them and found they shared a lot of qualities with the augurs (or "phantasms", invertebrates that act as intermediaries to the great ones) of bloodborne. realizing this, i thought about the great ones not in the context of a christian god, as the MODERN yharnam does, but as kami. kami are numerous, everywhere, hidden, and are thought of as actively controlling or influencing the terrestrial world. the re-translation reveals that the "great pthumeru chalice" had some nuance lost in translation: "祀る - Means to enshrine or worship, but has connotations of doing it to appease spirits so they may reach nirvana or Buddhahood and avoid becoming evil"; this is simply translated to "deify" which is technically correct but the original feels like it's much more pointed about finally revealing to the player that the "gods" as we've been lead to believe them to be are not what they seem.

the healing church, a product of georgian to victorian era western beliefs, razed pthumeru, loran, isz, and the fishing village (and probably yahar'gul too) in the quest to become like their newly discovered gods. the framework by which they related to pthumerian culture was completely wrong and misunderstood the nature of "gods" as all knowing or all powerful and, thus, something aspirational. the reality was more that they are just another type of creature in the world with different limitations than a human. and they're still mortal.

[lil-demi-boy]

OMG your mw sketches are so good! especially beebs love shrike jojo pose and i would love to hear your theories : 3

Aaaa thank you!! I love drawing them both a whole lot, but I definitely need to draw more Beebs <3

But yeah as for theories, they'll be under the cut Big shout out to my friend CL for helping me like, break the show down and get ideas going and thinking of a few of these first

(Also heads up, I just finished typing out Shrike's theories and it's long as hell so big read ahead)

Okay so some Shrike thoughts

He's canonically the last of his species, but he doesn't seem too torn up about it like Beebs seems to be about his own past, so is he just really good at hiding that pain or does he genuinely have no regrets?

If he is hiding his pain, the Terran obsession could be his coping mechanism, he hides in El Bandito cartoons so he doesn't have to face the truth that once he's gone, his whole species is

On the flipside, in the show, he seems to sleep just fine, dreams about normal things, never seems to have anything bothering him consciously or subconsciously, so I actually think he's genuinely fine over being the last of his species

I'll get back to that in a minute though, for now I'd like to look at his style: we know he wears a suit he got from being a member of LAW, and his guns match his suit/shoes, so I imagine he got the guns with the suit and was trained by LAW how to use them

He also claims "this is all I know!" when Beebs tells him to stop shooting in ep 3 so it's not hard to imagine he went straight from knowing little about fighting into LAW (unlike Beebs, who I'll get to)

With his LAW history in mind and seeming lack of care about the eradication of his species, it makes me wonder if the two could be connected

There's the Hunted theory, the Superman theory, and the Bad Alien theory, two of which involve the storage crystal in the back of his head

Said crystal appears to be very important; it's limited, but it is hammer space, it could have a ton of practical uses, and would likely be something that bad people wanna get ahold of, plus in ep 2 (which is HEAVY with foreshadowing, even with stuff that happens in the episode itself) they point out Shrike's crystal several times, calling him the Mother Crystal, showing Beebs looking between Punti's crystal and Shrike's, even Dr. Agnes tried to pull it out of his head at one point, so I'm thinking someone's gonna want it

In comes the Hunted theory: Shrike's species is born with these crystals, or they're at least given at birth/a young age (with Shrike saying he's had his since forever in ep 2), but since they're so useful, other aliens started hunting his species down to kill them and take the crystals. Shrike was taken on to LAW bc he was one of the last few of his kind n they wanna keep an eye on them

Literally as I was typing I thought of another theory, the Foreshadowing theory: The way Shrike talks about what happened to him (LAW setting him up with a dumb job after) makes me think it was actually more like a mass extinction, much like how Punti is the last of his kind after a mass extinction, one that LAW showed up afterwards to find and take the last one into custody, though in this theory, I think Shrike's crystal and the multiple comparisons between Shrike and Punti may point to Shrike being the only one of his kind with that crystal in his head

Which is also the case in the Superman Theory, where his family knew they were all gonna die, so they put Shrike in a pod (either being born with or given the crystal) and sent him off to protect him as they all die (which yeah isn't original but come on, baby Shrike)

Finally there's my favorite theory (NOT the one I believe in the most, just the one I think is the most fun to write for), the Bad Alien theory: why would Shrike be so carefree about his whole species being dead? Well what if they were actually a horrible species, like the Krill in Orville? They're blood-thirsty conquerors responsible for wiping out plenty of other species, and something about Shrike (maybe the crystal?) made him different and decide this wasn't okay, so he finds a way to work for LAW and be their spy on the inside, helping his species get captured and killed as punishment for all the pain and destruction they've caused while Shrike gets a job for helping them out so he can stay on his feet

Also not a theory or anything, I just love the detail that Shrike's chair in the Bucket has a spot on the headrest that's been scratched out by Shrike's gem, idk how they thought of that but that's so smart

Anyway that's enough about Shrike, let's get on to Beebs

Beebs oh man, sweetie, my baby boy, he has got to have a sad fuckin backstory. He's missing 3 of his 4 limbs, he implies he's lost at least one loved one, he's just so iudhfishuis I love him

Anyway, in episode 3 when he's talking to Us, he mentions he's been through losing someone "once or twice", which to me points to the possibility that he lost his partner or his family, but tbh I think he lost his wife (or whatever gender partner you prefer to think of him with) and child

He's very fatherly, taking the lead and being gentle and patient and understanding, plus in ep 2 when the Lythop that went in Shrike's head was crying, Beebs was already bent on a knee and ready to hold the lil guy like a dad comforting his crying kid, and in ep 3 he sits in with Shrike and lets him talk about El Bandito like a kid showing off their favorite cartoon to their dad (plus it makes him a dilf)

There's also another character we've seen in promo art, Champion Ajax, who looks like a Walrinian like Beebs is, and his name being Champion Ajax (among other things I'll get to) gives me the impression that maybe this species is battle-heavy and loves to throw down

They're physically imposing and tall, plus Beebs is shown to be a skilled fighter with both his close range hammer and long range grenades; I wouldn't be surprised if he could use every weapon in his light stick thing tbh

With champions and a proficiency in mixed weapons, what if Beebs' species takes part in gladiator type sports? Fighting each other for the fun and glory with the biggest and strongest of them all being the champion

If this is the case, I do think Beebs might've been a champ at one point, but he finally lost or quit

I don't have fancy names for these theories, n they're more like thoughts anyway but like

It's possible he lost his limbs during his run as Champion and that led him to quit (he didn't seem interested in getting any more parts of him made mechanical, as evidenced by his response to Shrike telling him to get an internal translator)

But the way sadder option is that whatever took his limbs is also what took his family, like some kind of explosion or something, or even worse, something that he did caused it

If you'll notice, sometimes when he opens his mouth wide, you can see two weird, round "teeth" in the corners of his mouth, which come to find out are actually where his tusks should be (side note: BLESS the artist who drew him with his tusks that one time, I love it)

So why doesn't he have his tusks? Were they cut off because he quit being Champion? Maybe he was blamed for the death of his family n cutting off tusks is a sign of shame/exile

Him being exiled may count for why he's in Monkey Wrench right now, like in ep 3 he clearly wasn't sure he was cut out for merc work so I highly doubt this was his idea, he likely needed a job to keep himself afloat, and here came Shrike

On that note, I wonder about Shrike and Beebs' relationship, cause when talking to Us, Beebs said that Shrike is his friend "or something"; have they just not known each other long enough to really call each other friends, or does Shrike just annoy him n that was a joke? How long have they known each other? Maybe they met through LAW at some point?

That's about all I got, but yeee thank you for asking, and apologies if it's a lil too long

[beepborpdoodledorp]

Another RE:Breach Update

Hey all, I'm back again with more info as to what the hell's been going on with RE:Breach lately. I'll try to keep it short but there is a lot to cover so bear with me.

So, I'll be honest, RE:Breach is not going how I planned. Not in terms of the story or anything, just the factors outside of it. I wanted to keep it a secret, but considering there's basically a 0% chance any of this will actually go the way I wanted it to I'll just reveal it now: the initial plan was to update the character renders, make chapter illustrations, and update the fic with the illustrations and fixed grammar/better sentence structure/etc. Then in November, for the fic's first anniversary, I would drop the official RE:Breach website that would compile the fics, the drawings, and some bonus stuff (wouldn't be removing the fics off AO3, just giving them another place to be read). Then I'd start dropping the sequel fics.

The new character renders are done; I started them in January, and didn't get them done until June. Then I started the chapter illustrations in July: out of the eighteen I had planned, I only got three done. Alongside that I wanted to get a head start with writing the sequel fics, so I started on the midquel, RE:Start, in about April or May or so (I think, I can't pinpoint exactly when I started writing). I literally just finished the third chapter yesterday after months of being stuck on it.

My work ethic is fucked, and it has been for a couple months now. I don't think it has to do with me still recovering from the writing marathon that was RE:Breach itself, I think I've just been hit with a depressive wave with how tired and demotivated I've been for the past few months. And everything that happened in my shitshow country in July didn't exactly help matters. And also my cat being sick and constantly needing to be shuffled to the vet the past week. That's fun.

I came into RE:Breach knowing that, with the sequels I had planned, this would be a multi-year-long endeavor. And I'm still planning on it - RE:Breach's sequels are still not canceled, I love the original game and the fic I've used to expand upon it too much to leave it behind, and the support for it has been so immense and amazing. But a part of me does regret jumping into it so suddenly, even if I did know what I was getting into: after Ruin released I just had a giant burst of creative energy I needed to get out, so I started writing RE:Breach with little planning and even less for the sequels. And, aside from basic outlines of what I want the sequels to be about and a few specific scenes, I still don't have much to go off of for them.

I know that all of these deadlines and the pressure that comes from them is really no one's fault but my own: no one's asking me to get the chapter illustrations and fic update out by a certain time, no one's asking me to get the website out by the anniversary, and no one's asking for the sequels to be out by a certain date. But considering it's now been six months since RE:Breach ended and I promised sequels, and I thought there would be sequels out by this point (the pride month prequel oneshot doesn't count I literally made that last minute because I had artist's block), I feel beyond icky that I'm still stuck polishing the first fic when I should've had it in the absolute best state it could be in when I first released it. 

TL;DR: RE:Breach is still alive, I am just going at the pace of a sloth that snorted molasses because depression is a little bitch and also all of the external factors in my life are going batshit too. I will complete everything I planned for RE:Breach even if it takes me a decade - which I really, really hope it won't.

[cathalbravecog]

some drawings i never posted because they were unfinished / i didn't feel like it that may be interesting to some!! (GONNA BE LONG !!)

do know that some of these ARE old and like.. dont reflect my current art! ok? ok! i just wanna show off some stuff.

ms paint doodle interaction comic between archie and frostbite - this had a lot of dialogue so i lost motivation to write it. is also unmotivated to just draw a fic and wants to draw character expressions. sad.... this prolly will never be finished but i may make a shorter version.

unfinished drawing of belle holding a baby tony - if you dont know, tony is my oc. theyre belle's child. they're an adult now, but i wanted to see them interact with belle as a Bebé. i rage quit on this drawing bc it was meant to be a quick doodle but i am a perfectionist and i overdetail stuff... yeah.

unfinished hr from a meme i was gonna draw - he was gonna be holding several sets of pronouns and honorifics to reference their shuffling pronouns when checked on cogs ink. "why does hr get so many pronouns?" idk. ask her.

whatever angst/vent this was gonna be...? stuff i probably wouldnt post anyway but i think the concept of this is cool.

dr sherbert gadgetmaker! my second toon ive ever made after getting back into toontown this year. originally his last name was icepop in ttr, i think. then i went. no. you gotta be more inspired by GARY THE GADGET GUY!!!!!!!! :3 anyways i cant figure out his design at all im struggling very badly! like with all my other toon designs, i think the flesh mouth is gonna GO ! GOODBYE!

first ever attempt at drawing pace. clean but i hate it. no stylization yet. but hey, gotta try stuff out before you make it cool. but uh yeahi dont like this drawing its boring, but some may appreciate it!

collin my boy what are you reading

also collin concept art when i was getting closer to his current design. YOU DONT WANT TO SEE THE INITIAL CONCEPTS. bro was a FLIP PHONE. excuse me abt the empty space but other art was there that i already posted months ago

eren

Let him play games on your phone. he needs at least 4 hours of subway surfers gameplay a day. be nice to the boy

chair.

[marypsue]

4, 5, & 19 for the writer's ask meme?

[from this meme]

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

I'll never tell! (Of the ones that I'm actually still intending to finish, 6 fanfics and 3 origfics, with option to resurrect one hiatus'd origfic.)

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Now seems like as good a time as any to bring back that idea that I had and wrote approximately six paragraphs of without any context or plan, which was 'Lilo & Stitch AU of Thor: Ragnarok, where Darcy Lewis is Lilo and Hela is Stitch'.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

I'm gonna give you one from...the continuation of the light of all lights, the Stranger Things AU of Dracula that I decided in May I wanted to write juuuust a couple more scenes of, which then promptly bloated into thousands of words. Because that's what fics do. (FYI, if you're doing Dracula Daily and this is your first time reading Dracula, the premise of this fic draws on some stuff that hasn't happened yet in the novel's chronology.)

Mina digs her fingers into her knees. The stiff denim of her jeans squelches slightly, the last of the saltwater cold against her fingertips. There hadn’t been time, had been too much danger, to even think about going home for her swimsuit. She’s regretting going into the water fully clothed now, of course. But she hadn’t wanted to strip in front of the boys. Too prim or too shy or too much of both to skinny-dip in the quarry on graduation night, even when Lucy’d begged her to join them in the ice-cold water. And still too prim or too shy or too much of both to let Art Holmwood see her in just her underwear. Even with Jonathan’s life on the line. Even with Lucy –

The image is burned, seared, forever into Mina’s brain. She recoils away from it, the same way she had in the pool, not wanting to see. Wanting to remember her best friend happy and laughing and warm and beautiful and alive, not wanting to remember –

It’s too late for Lucy.

But it might not be for Jonathan.

The pool, the makeshift sensory deprivation tank, had been Dr. van Helsing’s – Bram’s – idea. His design. It was a crutch. A signal amplifier, to help focus Mina’s mind, to broadcast it across whatever impossible distance lies between her and her absent friends.

And it had worked. She’d seen, where before she’d only ever been able to hear fragments of Jonathan’s voice. She’d found him, curled up shivering in a corner of the old treehouse where he’d taken her for so many picnics. The treehouse they’d jokingly called their castle. They’d made elaborate, unserious plans about moving into the treehouse together, before the house, before the proposal, long before Jonathan took that fucking night security job down at the lab. They’d laughingly considered it as an option, if they couldn’t find a place they could afford to rent on a teacher’s salary and a law student’s lack of one. Considered it as a home.

To see it rotting away in a deep, unnatural twilight, black decay eating through all of its walls and making the floor slant and skew, had been almost as frightening as seeing Jonathan so pale and thin and hollow-eyed, so ragged and so desperate. But Mina had seen it, as clear as though she’d been standing on that slanted floor. Had seen Jonathan, had heard his quiet voice humming their song to himself under his breath as he tucked his windbreaker tighter around himself. Had knelt on the boards of that floor so she could reach out to him –

She’d needed the pool to be a signal amplifier, before she could find Jonathan. Before she could find what was left of poor dear Lucy.

But they’re an entire world away.

It has many names. Telesthesia, to the scientists. Remote viewing, though it be more old-fashioned. The children of the flower called it ‘astral projection’, and believed it the gift of an enlightened spirit.

Mina chances another glance between the two guards. Both of them are still paying her an uncomfortable amount of attention.

Oh, well. It can’t be helped.

Mina turns her eyes down onto her knuckles, and tries to concentrate.

[fatal-error-blog]

FATAL_ERROR COMIC AND CONTENT WILL RETURN JANUARY 2022!

TL;DR at the end~ Hey folks! I’m so sorry I’ve been absent from the blog and from the discord for such a long time. I mentioned that I was taking a break back in…oh geez, May? And that break has gone on for much longer than I expected XD Long story short, I am very okay! This has just been an exceptionally busy year, and I’ve had to rearrange my priorities a bit to navigate it all.

To be absolutely honest, I’ve just been burnt out. Not from just the comic, but from a lot of things outside the blog. And if you’ve ever been burnt out, then you know that it kinda doesn’t matter how passionate or excited you are to work on your projects - you just keep hitting a wall that doesn’t really let you progress. Unfortunately I hit that wall, haha. So I’ve been taking the time to recover from it. Legitimately, this blog post took several weeks longer than I wanted it to, just because I was trying to gather enough will to draw a cute little drawing to go along with it. Eventually I figured that it needed to go up without it.

It sucks to have to admit that I needed to step away from the comic, the blog, and the discord. It’s hard to admit to myself that I was having a hard time balancing everything and that despite being excited about where the comic was headed, I just physically and mentally had to take a break. It feels really bad to have a lot of fun ideas about what I want next for the story, for all the side comics and the graphic novel and just not be able to act on them because something within me is just tired and needs a minute before continuing. It sucks to disappoint everyone who’s come to love this story and is also just as excited to see what happens next.

I think deep down I’ve always been scared that I’d give up on the Fatal_Error comic, which is why I was hesitant to step away from it to take care of other things that had to be taken care of. But I think I know now that completing this story is so important to me that I could never give up on it. But I do know that I need to give myself time to get some other things in my life in order, so that I can get through the block and come back to the comic ready to keep moving forward. So I hope you’ll be patient with me and rejoin me when the comic starts back up in January 2022. I don’t want to bore ya’ll with details, but probably the biggest thing I’ve got going on outside of this blog is trying to advance my career. I work in game development (QA Tester, been that way for a few years) and I’m more than ready to move up in the development pipeline. So I’ve been dedicating a lot lot lot of my time trying to work on those skills and apply for jobs. It’s very time consuming, haha. And mentally taxing. So I’ve been using this time (and I’ll be using the rest of the year) to work on some indie projects, beef up my portfolio, and hopefully get hired for a better job than I have now. I can’t express how much that’s gonna relieve a lot of stress for me, and less stress = more energy to spend on the Fatal_Error comic.

I do still plan to stream working on these projects, it’s (probably) not gonna involve Fatal haha but there is a lot of art involved and me bumbling around trying to program which should be entertaining to some extent, so if that’s something you’re interested in I’ll mention whenever I’m planning on streaming and you’re more than welcome to pop in and see what all the fuss is about.

As for discord, I’m never really far ^_^ I keep discord open all the time, and even if I don’t post or do much in the discord, I’m always nearby to check in and available to talk if ya’ll need me. I’ll try to be more involved though <3

I think that’s the major stuff? I really am looking forward to hopping back into Fatal’s story once things calm down on my end. It’s been a really wonderful source of comfort and expression for me and I love where the story is going, and I love getting to share it with ya’ll. I’m sorry for making you all wait so long for what comes next, but as always, I sincerely hope that once we get there, it’ll be worth the wait. Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and your enthusiasm. I’ll be around (and catching up on the inbox, messages, etc haha), but in terms of the comic, I’ll see ya’ll in January 2022 <3

Stay determined! I know I will be ^_^ <3 Xedra

TL;DR:

Is the comic over?/Is the blog dead? Nope! Just on pause until January 2022. What about the volume 2 of the graphic novel? Also on pause! I’m hoping to open preorders in March/April 2022. Are you okay? Yup! Thank you for asking, and I’m sorry for making you worry. What are you going to be doing in the meantime? I’m going to be working on some game development projects. I’m working on applying for jobs and I need stuff for my portfolio, and I also want to make sure I have something to do after Fatal_Error is finished ^_^ Are you still gonna stream? Yup! It’ll probably be non-Fatal_Error stuff but you’re more than welcome to watch me work! I’ll make a post about it when I have the times and stuff sorted out. Are you gonna be back on discord? Slowly, but yup. I’ll kinda chill in the background if you need me. You gonna play Deltarune Chapter 2? HEcK YEAH MY DUDE

[supernova-151]

blog update

hey everyone!

so as you might’ve already seen by now, i’m becoming suuuper inactive here. i haven’t answered asks in a really long time, i take a lot to write back and finishing chapters, not to mention drabbles (can you believe i haven’t written a drabble for my collection since JANUARY. HUH), i’m not keeping up with mutuals’ blogs/fanfics (it takes a while to read new chapters too)

life has been. A MESS lately. i never like to talk personal stuff here so i’ll keep it very very vague: work and social life have been taking the BIGGEST toll on my mental health and i’m barely finding the time to do the stuff i like in the first place, like watching movies, drawing, writing etc. basically, i never have proper time to myself and when i do i either a) get overwhelmed by the fact i’m not doing something productive or b) am way too tired to focus on anything and take an afternoon-long nap. :( it’s mostly physical health too! the italian sun is literally killing me im constantly tired and my pressure is scarily low and i need to take my vitamins but i keep forgetting !!!hejrkflgkf!!!

i’m so so so glad i’m spending time with my family and friends, a thing i obviously can’t do when i’m studying in dublin. but you know what i CAN do when i’m there since i have no friends? HAVE TIME TO MYSELF!!!! play video games!!! go to the cinema!!!! DO REWATCH POSTS YIPPEE

so what i’m trying to say is i have never said it officially but it’s been pretty clear since around may, anyway ill say it now once and for all: i’m going on a hiatus! i just feel it’s what’s best for my mental health cause when im not writing im stressing about not writing and when im stressing i don’t write as well as i can (i’ve been generally dissatisfied with the last chapter of apigp, though i think the quality has dropped since like chapter six probably but shhh). life is kicking me iN ThE NaRDS and i feel i need a moment to sit down and let my nards rest! this doesn’t mean that i’ll completely disappear from tumblr, i’ll still reblog games and stuff and maybe get around to answer a few asks, and lurk around my mutuals’ posts every once in a while!! and when i’m back in ireland around end of september/october i’ll go full swing again! i’m talking rewatch, apigp, drabbles, sketches, uhhhhhhstuff you like about my blog i guess! (plus i hope the rewatch reignites my love for violetta cause it’s dying down a bit and my new hyperfixation (you might’ve guessed it by now hehe) has pretty much got NOTHING to do with it and yeah)

DO NOT WORRY MY FRIENDS I SWEAR SWEAR SWEAR I WILL NOT DISAPPEAR ITS JUST A SEE YOU LATER NOT A GOODBYE!!!! plus if you like private message me like “omg iris i need to talk to you RIGHT NOW it’s SUPER IMPORTANT” i’ll!!! check it out i swear!! eventually! (i think i turned off notifs for tumblr i need to verify that) but like, if you wanna like actually talk to me, just ask for my discord it’s much easier to talk there :)

tl,dr: i’m super tired and overwhelmed and am going on a proper summer hiatus. see you back in full swing in october!

[drcalmreid]

books and braids - s.r.

pairing: fem reader x spencer reid

summary: angst/fluff — spencer asks you to braid his hair to relax after a rough week

content warning: brief mention of a male unsub and his victims! (tw: death, kidnapping, cutting hair, female victims)

word count: 1.7k

authors notes: I don’t even know what this is...I just couldn’t stop thinking about how cute Spence would look in braids, anyway enjoy xxx 

gif credit: @zhuzhubii​

YOUR POV

My thumbs run over the edges of my book as I flip the page, stretching out my legs across the length of the couch. I lift my eyes from the pages of The Alchemist and look at Spencer. He’s propped up against the armrest of the large leather chair he’s sat in, with his fingers scanning the pages and his left palm cupping his cheek. I close my book and toss it on the couch next to me, I slouch down on the couch and toss my braided hair over my shoulder. Pressing my cheek against the pillows and lose myself in looking at him. The soft glow of his reading lamp lights up his small apartment, bouncing off the endless bookshelves and olive green walls. The sun has set since we both started reading hours ago, just the two of us in his apartment enjoying one another's company after a rough case the day before. After being together for a while, I have been able to pick up on his cues when he’s hurt and wants his space versus when he’s hurting and needs comforting...but this time, I have no clue what he needs.

“In most cultures it’s considered impolite to stare,” Spencer says without breaking his gaze away from his book.

“Mmm,” I hum sitting up on the couch to look at him even more. “Actually, staring has been proven to be a sign of attraction in modern society.”

“Is that so?” Spencer chuckles and closes his book, placing it on the side table next to his chair. I nod at him and bring my legs up to my chest crossing them to sit cross-legged on the leather sofa. He stands from his chair and takes a few steps towards me, before kneeling in front of the couch. Spencer rests his arms on my lap and looks up at me, “hi,” he whispers after a while.

“Hi,” I reply back and take a free hand to run it through his curls. Spencer instinctively leans into my touch and his eyes flutter shut. My hands continue to run though his hair and I gently scratch his scalp. After a moment or two, Spencer opens his eyes again and crawls onto the couch, practically on top of me. I guess he needs comforting, I think to myself and I lay down on the couch and Spencer presses his chest against mine gently collapsing into me. He rests his head against my shoulder, his lips inches from my neck and I wrap my legs around his. He hums contently as his arms loop around my body, bringing us even closer than before. My left hand goes back to his head and runs my fingers through his hair, while my right traces patterns on his back.

“Spence,” I mumble quietly. He hums in response so I know he hasn’t fallen asleep and I continue, “are you okay? You didn’t talk much when you came home yesterday and we barely talked today, if you don’t want to that’s fine. I just-“ I sigh and raise my hand from his back and run careful fingers over his exposed cheek. “I just don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me.”

“I know,” he says, turning his face to rest his chin on my chest, his eyes opening slightly to peer up at me. He smiles gently before laying his head back down, “thank you...it isn’t that I don’t want to talk about it, I just can’t right now.”

“Oh,” I sigh and return his gentle smile. I look down at him fondly and continue to comb out his hair.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want you to overthink anything...it’s not your fault. I just can’t bring myself to discuss it yet...the case was really bad, (y/n).”

I nod and press a kiss to his forehead. His eyes close in response and he grins to himself. Spencer has never been one for attention or physical affection, but over time, somehow he’s grown to be the more clingy and physical one. He even surprised his team when he willingly kissed me in front of them, because he said I was “just different”.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer says and draws me out from my own thoughts.

“Of course,” I smile.

“Can you,” he hesitates and turns his face away from my chest, leaning up on his elbows to look at me in the eyes. My hand drops from his hair and cups his cheek, he presses a kiss into my palm before finishing, “braid my hair? No—sorry that was stupid, I don’t know why I-“

“Spencer,” I cut into his flustered stuttering. “Do you want two braids or one?” His smile grows to an impossibly large size and his eyes crinkle up at the corners.

“Surprise me.”

—

“How did you learn how to do this?” Spencer asks looking at me through the reflection of the mirror. I’m sitting on the edge of his bed, Spencer between my legs, his back flushed up against the box spring.

“Braid hair?” I ask and he nods, “well, I always knew how to do basic braids because of my mom, but I taught myself how to French braid due to lots of YouTube videos.”

Spencer smiles at me through the mirror and his eyes fix on my fingers in his hair. Twisting the pieces over one another, slowly adding smaller sections I complete my small French braid at the top of Spencer’s hair. Two tightly woven braids lay on the top of his scalp, leaving his curls below loose and free in a half up-half down style. I pull out some pieces from the front of his braids to frame his face and I look fondly at him. He’s beautiful.

“You look so handsome Spence,” I smile and run my fingers up through the bottom of his unbraided hair. A blush creeps onto Spencer’s cheeks and he tries to hide it by peering his face away and into his hands. “Hey,” I pull his hands down, still watching him through the reflection. “I mean it, you look...hot”

“No-” Spencer starts to protest, his blush deepening.

“Yes you do...you look hot, but also kind of beautiful at the same time,” I giggle and Spencer does too. He rises from the ground in one steady movement and stands between my legs. He leans down and places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Thank you,” he says and kisses my nose before standing back up. His large hands cup my face and his eyes scan over my every feature.

“Do you like them—the braids?” I ask.

“I love them,” he smiles and drops a hand from my cheek to grab the ends of my hair. “We match.”

We both chuckle at his corniness, but my heart flutters at the thought of Spencer, Dr. Genius, wanting to have matching hair with his girlfriend….who would have thought?

“Yknow,” Spencer clears his throat with a small cough. “The case…”

I patt the side of the bed next to me and Spencer takes my cue and sits. He fiddles with his fingers and won’t look at me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” I say breaking the silence and placing my hands over his restless ones. Spencer nods, but continues.

“The unsub was killing women with long hair, he would cut it and keep boxes upon boxes of their hair. He made wigs out of the hair, long straight ones. One victim, she looked like you…” Spencer hesitates and looks up to meet my eyeline. I nod my head to tell him it’s okay to keep going. “She had the same hair color, eye color, everything...my heart stopped when I saw her photo. For a second, I thought ‘that’s (y/n)’.”

This breaks him….Spencer sniffles as a steady stream of tears rolls down his cheeks. I move back on the bed and pull him with me. Instinctively, Spencer follows and cuddles into my side as I run my hands over his back. A sob rattles his chest and Spencer cries into my side.

“Shhh,” I coo and squeeze him tight. “I’m here. I’m fine.”

“I know, I just—I’m sorry”

“Spencer, you never have to apologize to me for this stuff...ever.”

Spencer shakes his head and buries his face again in my side. Silence falls between us again aside from Spencer’s soft cries. My hands continue to move up and down his back trying my best to comfort him. I just know I have to be there for him.

“Yknow,” I say, cutting into the silence. “I could teach you how to braid my hair….it’s not hard and I’m pretty sure that big ol’ brain of yours can handle it.” I whisper, placing a kiss on the top of his head, right onto the braids in his perfect hair. Spencer pulls away from me and his reddened eyes crinkle up as his smile widens

“You can teach me?” He asks sitting up on the bed looking back at me.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure this is the only thing I’ll be able to teach you, Spence—”

“No,” Spencer cuts me off and sits cross-legged on the bed facing me. “You’ve taught me so much (y/n). More than you know. I know how to love again because of you...I knew when I saw that victim on the board I had to tell you I loved you because I didn’t want it to be too late...I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Spencer.” I smile and Spencer presses his lips to mine. “So these braids…I think we should start with the basics first.”

“Mmm,” Spencer nods, acting overly enthusiastic. “I think that’s the perfect place to start, Professor (y/n).”

—

well, its official, I can't stop writing about Spencer ...and I may or may not be writing another as y'all read this... ;) requests are open!

leave requests here! // masterlist

stay safe and wear a mask! -m

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Simple Victimology (Spencer Reid x Reader)

chapter one of “all bets are off”

“An agent of the BAU is exactly the unsub's type. Pretty convenient, right? Well, turns out she's exactly Dr. Spencer Reid's type as well. All it took for him to admit it was a bit of... performative seduction.”

{notes: sorry if this was is bit too dialogue heavy! i just needed to get all the groundwork/backstory laid out lmao. anyway action and NSFW content is coming up next chapter.}

"So our unsub's victimology is quite clear, right? I mean, almost to an irrational degree. All the women he's attacked have been dressed similarly, with similar body types, similar makeup." Dr. Spencer Reid mused, his eyes scanning the photographs up on the wall. "And he just doesn't seem to strike women who are alone. He enjoys the thrill of stealing his victims away from other men."

You let out a sigh. The case you and the rest BAU had been working on was fairly straight cut: psychotic sexual sadist who abducts his victim from parties, tortures them for months, then dumps the bodies in the woods.

"But it just doesn't make sense. With such a specific MO, he must rarely find a target that's suitable for him to strike." You shook your head. "It's not a trait that lends itself well to a serial killer."

"That's probably why he spends so much time with each of his victims. An attempt to keep him satisfied between hunts." Derek agreed.

Rossi piped up next. "The specificity leads me to believe he's chasing after a very certain high.. trying to recreate a specific person or moment through his delusions." He continued. "Our best chance of drawing him out is to send out the perfect victim. He's the type who can't afford to pass up the opportunity when he sees one."

Silence. Everyone on the team knew what happened last time they had sent an agent out as bait. No one was sure they were ready to take that type of chance again.

Spencer's eyes continued to scan the pictures and then, suddenly, you felt the weight of his eyes on you. "Y/N looks pretty close to the unsubs type.." He said hesitantly.

"No," Hotch began "We're not sending our own agent out into the field of a sexual sadist as bait."

You stood up quickly. "No, it's okay." You spoke firmly, your own gaze fixated on the previous victims' images. "All we need to do is draw him out, right? You guys will be with me the whole time. I'm not a risk. I can do it."

Silence befell the room again, until Hotch broke it. "Alright. Reid, Prentiss, go over the victimology one more time. Make sure we get this right. We'll send Y/N out tonight."

"That still leaves the issue of the male companion, sir." Emily piped up.

"I'll do it." Morgan volunteered. "I feel at home on the dance floor anyway. Easy cover." He chuckled.

"No..." Rossi thought out loud. " We need someone who's not threatening. Someone who has zero chance of jeopardizing this mission. Zero chance of scaring our unsub off."

Everyone almost instantly turned to Reid. It was almost comical. He blinked a few times, processing the implications of everyone's stare. "Oh. Yeah. I guess I fit that description." He smiled weakly.

"So it's settled then. Get to work agents."

And without another word, you each followed Hotch's orders. You remained in the conference room with Spencer and Emily, psyching yourself up for your first mission as bait.

"The women that our unsub target are all dressed..." Spencer trailed off.

"Provocatively." You finished for him. "They're all wearing short dresses. Lots of skin exposed. And, from what we've gathered, they all seem to be a fan of the party life. Witnesses at the sight of the abduction told us that the girls don't shy away from the taboo. Drugs, drinking, dancing, you name it."

Emily nodded. "You up for that, Y/N?" She questioned half-jokingly.

"You should be asking Spencer if he's up for dealing with that side of me." You jested, glancing up at him. He gave you a reassuring shrug, one that could've been mistaken for a wince, and you shoved him gently. "Don't worry Spence. I won't go too wild. Anyway, I should probably get home and grab a change of clothes. They'll want to have as much time as possible to wire me." You turned on your heel, walking out of the conference room.

"I'll be back!" You announced to the rest of the team.

"Y/N, wait!" Spencer jogged up behind you. "I, uh, I should probably get changed too, right? I mean, I don't want to look too out of place."

You gave him the good ol' once over and pondered for a moment.

"Do you own anything that doesn't look like a TA would wear on his first day of class?" Derick teased from his desk.

"I have some dress shirts, at least." Spencer replied seriously.

"Well I'll give you a ride, then." You offered. "Your place is pretty close to mine." Spencer nodded and followed you out the door.

"Do I really dress like a TA?" He questioned, partially to himself.

"Maybe, but like a TA that all the freshman girls would have a crush on." You patted his shoulder reassuringly.

The car ride to Spencer's place was a relatively quiet one. You discussed the case, you asked Spencer if he thought the plan would work. He seemed pretty confident it would.

"If you want you can just wait here for a second. I really just need to grab the clothes and we can head to your place." He explained once you had parked.

"Go for it." You replied.

He came back, a couple of shirts and ties in hand, and shut the car door. You began driving once again.

"So, Y/N, did you um, used to party a lot back in college?" He asked you. You smiled.

"A bit. I had some fun, that's for sure. I was always pretty focused on my academics, though. Not as much as you were though, I'm sure. A few of my friends used to call me "the fortune teller". I had a habit of making guesses on what would happen at the parties we went to. Who would hook up with who, who would black out first, stuff like that." You reminisced.

"Profiling your fellow party-goers." Reid chuckled.

"I suppose so."

You escorted Reid up to your apartment when you arrived. He commented that it seemed like a nice place. You thanked him. Casual small-talk was made. You began to dig through your closet, searching for a dress that would entice the unsub. "What color shirts did you bring?" You asked.

He quickly shuffled through his options. "Black, grey, white.. why?"

"Just wanted to make sure we wouldn't clash. Can't have a red dress with a blue shirt, right? We're supposed to be going to this party together."

"Oh, smart."

You pulled out two dresses, both of which were from your younger days. You prayed they would still fit. "Which one do you think?" You held them up to Spencer.

"Well, they're both.. they're both pretty. I like them both." He replied, analyzing them.

"Well, yeah . But I mean, which one do you think the unsub would prefer?" You chuckled.

He flushed. "Right. I'd say the dark red one. It reminds me of the dress from the first victim."

You nodded. The dress crushed velvet. Tight. Short. Exposing. But oh well, you figured, this was your job. "I'm gonna change in the bathroom. Feel free to change out here."

You exited the bedroom, leaving him alone. When you had finished slipping on the dress, which fortunately had fit perfectly, you slipped back into the bedroom. Spencer was buttoning up the last few buttons of his shirt. Your eyes followed his fingers, the way they methodically worked, and when he was done he looked up at you.

You both took a beat.

"You look great, Y/N." He coughed a bit, eyeing you up and down. "Ready to catch our unsub." He added quickly.

"You too, Doctor." You grinned. "I think we'll make quite a convincing pair." You grabbed some heels from your closet and motioned for him to follow you back out of the apartment. "Back to work we go!" You sing-songed, starting up the engine.

Almost the instant you stepped into the door of the BAU offices you were bombarded by Hotch a few additional FBI agents. Hotch began to go over the plan meticulously:

Make it appear like you've been drinking. Reid will leave to "go to the bathroom". You go outside for a "smoke break". The unsub will follow you from inside the club. The rest of the team will be staked out in a car near by. Keep the unsub talking. He'll offer to buy you a drink. Accept. He'll go back inside and bring it to you. It's drugged. Do not drink it. Keep the cup as evidence. That's when the others will come to put the guy in cuffs. Reid will be just inside if things seem like they're going to go sideways.

"Jeez, Hotch, I may not have an eidetic memory, but I can remember this. I promise."

Once you were wired up, JJ and Emily began the proccess of your hair and makeup. For a moment, it was almost cute. It was like you were getting ready for a girls night. Except, you supposed, that it was all in the name of baiting a serial killer.

When the clock hit 9pm you and Reid were shuffled off back into your car and given directions to the bar that you would be staking out.

"We didn't have much time to talk in there, what with Hotch being up our asses about the plan. How are you feeling?" You asked.

Spencer didn't reply.  Nerves, you figured. "Spence?"

He shook his head, almost as if he had snapped out of a trance. "Ah, yeah sorry. I feel pretty good. I mean, I'm confident we'll catch our unsub." A moment of hesitation. "JJ and Emily did a great job on your makeup. You look... great."

You felt your face heat up. Why was a compliment from Spencer Reid making you nervous? "Thanks."

At 10pm you were pulling into the parking lot of the bar. It was almost full. Tons of people must've been inside. Your unsub included. You took a moment of pause. "Time to get into character." You wiped your sweaty hands on the crushed velvet fabric of your dress.

"The rest of the team must be down the block." Reid nodded.

You looked towards him anxiously and stepped out of the car. He followed suit, coming around to the passenger side and grabbing your hand. You squeezed it gently, not sure if it was to calm your nerves or his, or just because you wanted to.

"Come on, babe!" You exclaimed, pulling him towards the entrance.

It must've caught him off gaurd, but he just chuckled. "I've been waiting for this night all week."

[noritoshiikamo]

driver’s license 

cause you said forever, now I drive alone passed your street [au where suna is a doctor specialized in memory removal and his last patient of the day is his ex]

pairing: suna rintarou + fem!reader genre: pain, angst, doctor!suna + patient!reader tags//warning: medical procedure of mind erasing, slight suicide ideation, alcohol abuse note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. the songs made me brawled i had to write something about it and i just so happened to finish haikyuu

“it’s odd,” he looked up from the computer screen, osamu approached him pointing to the screen, the last name listed in the appointment schedule under dr suna rintarou. please don’t say it please don’t say anything, he begged silently in his head. “she kinda has her name. haven’t heard her name in ages,” osamu shrugged, grabbing his next patient’s files, “want to get lunch later?” the doctor popped in another stick of gum, leaving before suna could even said a word.

funny that osamu said that. that is his girlfriend. he moved the cursor and clicked at the name. the birthplace, the date, her eye colour, the address and her number; it matches everything he ever memorized of her. except they are no longer together. it has been a month since their breakup.

 she’s an architect. not by choice but she likes art. she’s talented and had once held an art show during school’s open day where they met. she didn’t draw him until they started dating, but she had known some of his close friends who was the subject of her drawings. her parents disproved of her ambitious and to compromise, she agreed to take architectural instead. she stopped drawing completely and suna was the only person in japan that has the largest collection of her paintings stuffed in boxes and behind shelves.

 suna rintarou has been a doctor in inarizaki institute for 5 years now. inarizaki institute was different from others. it was the only medical institution that had successfully developed a procedure to remove unwanted memories. he’s one of the qualified doctors for said procedure. he had done the procedure multiple times now, even on his former high school friends and families but never his own girlfriend.

 is it him she’s removing from her memories?

 he didn’t remember how they broke up. maybe it’s because he was too busy. maybe it’s because she had fallen out of love with him. maybe they just couldn’t stand being in each other’s spaces, but it happened so quickly. she moved out from their apartment, returned when he left to clear out her stuff and he just threw himself back to work.

 he did remember how they met. she was the miya brothers’ neighbor. one night when he came to visit them during semester break years ago, they were in their parents’ car with a girl. suna felt like he had recognized but couldn’t think of where or when. “oi, suna,” the window rolled down and asamu called him over, “come in!” despite being weirded out, he entered the back door of the car. “we are teaching our friend how to drive; can you believe it? she’s in our university and can’t drive to save a life.”

 “shut the fuck up, atsumu or i’ll run you over,” she muttered angrily as she moved the driving gear.

 suna saw the stick going down to reverse instead down further and he immediately reached for her hand. the girl startled at the stranger’s sudden touch. “what the fuck are you d-doing?” she choked up.

 “you’re going to reverse into the wall,” he muttered bluntly, pouting his mouth to the gear. grabbing the stick through her hand, he pulled the gear into drive before letting her hand go. the light from the post shined in and he could see red flush on her face as she nodded, “oh okay, yeah d,” she muttered to herself. she started driving. she wasn’t exactly bad; she just needed a lot of practice.

 so he came over every day of his semester break and accompanied them as she practiced her driving.

 “i can drive you home?” she offered on the last night of his break before he returned to school.

 “you don’t have too.”

 “i insisted,” to which suna agreed and she glanced back at the miya brothers, “get the fuck out.” despite their disgruntlement and the it’s my mum’s car argument, she managed to kick them out. it was just two of them together. “so, i know we went to same high school and university. how come we have never crossed path before?” she questioned as she took her first turn. she memorized the roads to his home. suna shrugged as he fidgeted with the corner of the jacket’s zipper, “i played volleyball in high school.”

 she chuckled, “i’ve never watched any sport matches in high school, sorry. anyway, i’m a last year architectural student by the way. are you taking the same course as osamu?” she glanced at him with a smile. his heart skipped a beat. “y-yeah. i’m in my 5th year of medical.”

 “why not volleyball player?”

 “i got bored.”

 she let a soft exhale and shrugged, “fair enough. i took architectural to please my mother so i’m in no position to give any advice.” she slowed down in front of his house before pulling into a full stop. she pulled into parking and pulled the hand brake. she smiled and fist pumped herself, “did you see that? perfect stop!” suna didn’t expect what was going to happen next. he watched out of control as his arm reached out for her face and pulling her close. what he remembered being in control was asking her boldly whether he could kiss her.

her eyes sparkled and she smiled so widely, “yes.”

so, he did.

she moved into his apartment at the end of his graduation. she didn’t get any job for the first few months while he entered inarizaki institute as medical officer. she took commissions online and waited tables while going to a couple of interviews. he saw a decline in her motivation. when suna returned one night, he found her behind the sofa, drunk out of her mind. what spooked him wasn’t the bottles of whiskey on the floor but the stainless-steel paint scrapper she stabbed the canvas with. she could’ve hurt herself. but, putting her into therapy and pulling strings with some of her friends, she recovered, and he got her an interview. suna watched as she dreadfully shoved her portfolios and files into her bag. 

“you’ll be alright,” he reassured, bringing her a cup of coffee. she sighed and pushed her bangs back, “i don’t know, rin. i just don’t feel like getting another rejection after another and then i’ll just spiral into a-” he stopped her rambling with a kiss. he tasted like coffee; she tasted like their toothpaste. every time she tried to pull away, he pulled her back into the kiss and she could feel him laughing against her lips. “this is going to turn into something else,” she whispered between the kiss and he nodded. he was half aroused. she drank the coffee and kissed him one last time. he felt her fingers slipped from his grip. she stood by the door and waved back.

 “see you?” she beamed.

 “always.”

 suna snapped out of his own memory when an alarm blared out. he looked up past the nurses’ counter and saw a patient being pushed out of room B by a couple of nurses. he knew what goes on in that room; he helped in perfecting the procedure. osamu followed soon. he tugged the blue gloves off and shoved them into the yellow bin. “you would not believe who I met in the waiting room?” by the look of his face, osamu already got the feeling that suna already knew. osamu flipped his file and pulled out a pen. he signed the bottom of the pages and dumping it in the completed pile. “did she tell you?” suna asked.

 “about?” the other doctor asked.

 “the memories she’s erasing. did she tell you?”

 osamu shook his head and pocketed his hand in the white coat. “she asked about you. whether you’re around. i said yeah, he’s on call and she just smiled.” suna stood up and grabbed the file. he felt conflicted. osamu stopped the man before he could enter the room. “look man, I’m sorry about whatever happen between you guys and I’m in no position to judge at all.”

 suna shrugged and smiled, “it’s fine. we were just ruining each other.” the other man nodded understandingly before excusing himself. suna wanted to move but his feet felt heavy. he was glued down. room B was just a few feet away, but he couldn’t move. this is it. the end of them.

 he forced himself into the room. standing in front of the panels and monitor, separating him and her was a one-way mirror. she sat on the seat, talking to the nurses in charge. his heart hurts. she had bangs now framing her face. she’s slight thinner and no longer wore the charm bracelet he gave during their first anniversary. the nurse placed a heart-beat monitor on her thumb and attached a couple more of sensors to her brain, forehead, and neck. his monitor lightened up and spitted out the information. this is it. “doctor, she’s requesting of removal of memory from 2009 up to last month,” the nurse’s words went in his ears and out. it’s of him.

 all his own memories flashed through his mind.

 the memories of every kisses, hugs, the late nights and the earliest of days, the coffees, the spilled paints. memories of every tear he ever wiped and for ever meals she had ever cooked. memories of all the paints of him that she had gifted to him and every night she drove down his streets. for every missed calls and unread texts. the way she touched him and the way she made him felt. he felt suffocated.

 how could he ever love someone else?

 “everything is accordingly. you may press the start, doctor.”

 he looked at the flashing button and back to her. she was looking right at him. she might not see him, but she is looking straight at him and she looked so beautiful. a small smile appeared on her lips as her fingers fidgeted nervously. he felt tears prickling his eyes. his fingers brushed against the button and he slowly pressed it. 

 it took them 7 years to build this much of memories together and it took him 3 minutes to erase it clean from her mind.

 she was drowsy and she had tears running down her face. the nurses rushed in after the red light disappeared and green light beamed. the alarm rang. another memory successfully. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” he heard her from the opened door. shutting off the machine, he immediately rushed out for the door, feared that he might bumped into her and lost it. he hid his shaking hands in his pocket and gritted his teeth.

 “doctor?”

 he stopped. the world stopped spinning and he felt lightheaded. the way she called for him didn’t change, the tone and the pronunciation were the same. it was always melodious yet painful. he turned around to see her being wheelchaired out of the room by the nurse. her eyes were slightly red, and her nose were puffy. the nurse passed her a cup of water. she smiled politely, thanking her and took the cup in her hand. she took a sip, coughing at the coldness of the water down her dried throat. it’s the side effect of the procedure.

 “have we met before?” she asked, innocently.

 suna shook his head and smiled weakly, “no, we haven’t.” he turned to the nurse and nodded. before the nurse could ushered her away, she called him out again. 

 with a smile on her face, she waved goodbye, “see you, doctor?”

 “always.”

[cudan2]

We’re Only Human

Spring Break Shadowing Part 4

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,040

Summary: It’s the last day of shadowing with Dr. Cullen, but you’ve come to realize a little more about how you feel towards him. Cue crushes and a little bit of chaos along the way.

A/N: I finished the semester and can actually dedicate time to writing this again because instead of being on spring break, I’m now on winter break. I also chopped this part in half because it was probably going to be over 6,000 words otherwise and that’s just a lot compared to the previous ones. Bear with me, guys. Another note - I’m thinking about posting this on Ao3 but will rewrite it because I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this in present tense lol. 

Anyways, this is #8 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

You don’t know how it happened, but time is on your side and you’re running early this morning. The sun has just risen and casts a warm glow across the hospital as you make you way to the Starbucks, determined to be the one to buy Doctor Cullen his drink for once.

Meeting him here every morning has become a tradition, a tradition that involves him getting you breakfast every day you’ve shadowed him this week. The two of you would chat about various topics while walking to where ever he had to be next. Sometimes you would prod his brain with more medical-related questions, occasionally he would tell stories from his past, but regardless, his every word had you captivated.

Alright, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to finally admit that you may or may not have developed a tiny crush on Doctor Cullen. To be fair though, this is your last day shadowing him and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again anyways. You feel a pang of disappointment at the thought, but it soon disappears when Emily greets you at the counter.  

“Hi, Y/N! Where’s the doctor today?”

“I was running early today, so I figured I’d grab both of our drinks.” You place your order and ask the barista what Doctor Cullen’s “usual” was.

“Oh that?” she laughs. “He gets boiling water. It’s a little weird, but I just assumed he makes tea with it.”

Boiling... water? You think back to the last several days and try to remember what Doctor Cullen even did with his drink. He definitely never made tea with it. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever taken a sip out of the cup before throwing it away.

“Then I’ll be adding a grande boiled water to my order,” you tell Emily and thank her before she moves on to the next person in line.

You wait to the side for your food and see Jaime standing there too. He’s wearing a backpack and a faded college sweatshirt thrown over his scrubs, and you’re reminded of how many years left of school you have before you can even call yourself a doctor. You wave to him, and he pulls an earbud out from his ear with a sleepy smile.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greets you.

“Nothing much, just grabbing something to eat before the day starts. I’m surprised to see you here though. What happened to morning rounds?”

Jaime lets out what you can only discern as a mix between a hollowed laugh and a groan and tells you about forgetting his coffee at home. “Don’t even get me started on this morning. My car died on me, so I had to get an Uber. Lo and behold, there weren’t any Ubers around either, so ya boy eventually took not just a taxi, but a taxi and the train. By the time I got here, I realized my coffee was still on the counter at home, and so now I’m here.”

Damn, and you thought mornings were rough for you.

“Sorry to hear that! Did you get in trouble for being late?”

“I called Doctor Cullen myself and told him what was happening. He was so understanding, god bless, so I’m in the clear for now.

At the mention of the doctor, your thoughts instantly go back to blond tresses and a brilliant smile you already know you’ll miss when you leave the hospital for the last time today.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” you say a little too dreamily. Jaime gives you a knowing look and you rein it back in, hoping you haven’t exposed yourself already.

“You know, I think he’s going to miss you the most when you leave.” You don’t even get the chance to react when Jaime continues on, “Don’t get me wrong, Lily and I will definitely miss having you around, but the man really took a liking to you a lot faster than he did with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“He always kept us at an arm’s length before you came around. All of that personal stuff you get out of him would have taken him weeks to tell us before, and that’s if we’re lucky. He just seems more comfortable around you,” Jaime shrugs. His coffee is then called out, cutting off anything he wanted to say next. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you later!”

You take a moment to mull over what Jaime said. From your perspective, Doctor Cullen has treated you exactly the same way he does with everyone else. You don’t dare to over think what Jaime could be saying – over thinking never leads to anything good. And yet, the damage is done. The seed has been planted and now you can’t help but wonder about what made you stand out to the doctor.

Your own order is called, and you’re pulled from your thoughts with the smell of warm food.

Now armed with two beverages and a pastry bag sandwiched between your fingers, you make your way to a nearby table to wait for Doctor Cullen. Your wait is soon cut short though, as you see him walking towards you out of your peripheral vision. The clouds shift and the sun shines through the windows again. Its golden rays pass over the doctor, and for a second, you swear you could see him shimmering in the sunlight.

You squint strangely and blink a few times. Get it together, you tell yourself. Over thinking is clearly playing some weird psychological tricks on your eyes, and you still needed to be on your A-game.

“Hey you,” he flashes that familiar smile once more when reaching the table you are settled at. “You’re early today.”

“I am. It even gave me the chance to get you your water.” You hand him the cup with a smirk, having made sure to put a sleeve on it earlier because unlike Doctor Cullen, you actually have hands that hold the risk of being burnt.

“Ah, I see Emily has divulged one of my secrets with you. Thank you, Y/N, you really didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist. Seriously, water is free at Starbucks. “Think of it as a small thank you present. It’s the least I could do for the amazing surgeon that let me follow him around for the week.”

“Hmm, I think you may have meant the amazing, extremely kind, highly skilled, and not to mention, quite dashing–”

“Okay! No need to flatter yourself,” you laugh, trying your best to refrain from rolling your eyes. In all honesty, you can’t describe him any better. Add in attractive, intelligent, compassionate, way too humble sometimes, and it would be the perfect recipe to recreate another Doctor Cullen.

From there on, your daily routine at the hospital continues without a hitch. It’s a morning filled with back to back surgeries and question after question thrown at you from the doctor. There is no doubt that he is keeping you on your toes – literally and figuratively. You have to admit though, you are pretty proud of yourself for being able to answer the majority of his questions.

Your feet swing aimlessly while you spin around in a padded chair in Doctor Cullen’s office. Your laptop is open on his desk, displaying a blank document that’s meant to be your personal statement. It has been a little over an hour since he left you here to attend a mandatory meeting and you are starting to get antsy.

Aside from several stacks of files and other various papers, the desk lacks the small trinkets you would expect to see. As a matter of fact, the office itself is surprisingly void of anything personal. There aren’t any pictures of family, friends, pets, not even of a possible wife. There are no decorations on the wall either, and if it weren’t for the leather briefcase leaning against the side of the desk, you’d never believe this office belonged to him. No wonder he spends as much time as possible outside of this dismal room.

As you continue spinning in the chair, you bring up a paper fortune teller made earlier from a sticky note. You choose a color, two subsequent numbers, and flip open the flap to reveal the fortune.

Brunch date with Dr. Cullen.

The things you do to kill time. Your friends would never let you live this down if they could see you now.

Just as you’re about to go another round with the fortune teller, the door opens and Doctor Cullen walks in. The fortune teller goes flying out of your hands and onto the floor next to you as you jump in surprise and halt the spinning.

“Sorry about the wait, Y/N. I’m afraid the meeting took longer than expected,” he says, his words laced with a hint of bitterness. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice you nearly jumping out of your skin. Not wanting to draw attention to the fortune teller on the floor, you leave it there for now and start packing up your stuff.

“I presume you found a way to entertain yourself?”

“Kind of? I tried starting my personal statement again. It’s really not coming together,” you laugh dryly. Too preoccupied with turning off your laptop and putting it away, you don’t notice that Doctor Cullen walking around to the head of the desk where you are until it’s too late.

Oh crap, the fortune teller. Of course, he just has to notice it too and picks it up with a curious expression. You look up, and he’s standing there with it in his hand.

“Did you make this?”

You leap up from the chair and snatch it out of his hand before he can examine it any closer. There is no way in hell you’re letting him open it.

“Uh, yeah... It’s just something we used to make in elementary school – nothing special!” You try to play it off as cool as possible and slip the fortune teller into the small trash can underneath his desk. “So what’s next on the schedule?”

He takes a moment before answering you. You see his eyes study the way your fingers nervously fidgets with a loose thread on your shirt. He seemingly brushes off the interaction that occurred and responds, “Pre-op. I believe this one will be much different than the others you’ve observed this week.”

“What’s different about it?” you ask. Doctor Cullen starts to leave and holds the door open for you.

“You’ll see.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking.

He shuts the door and you start walking towards to the surgical department when a hand abruptly pulls you back just a little too hard. You trip over your own feet in the process and in some miraculous, but also really unlucky, sadistic, cruel-of-the-universe sort of way, land in Doctor Cullen’s arms. Goosebumps form up your arms where he’s holding you, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the temperature difference or the fact that your face is only an inch away from his chest.

You are absolutely mortified to say the least. Heat begins crawling up your cheeks and if there was a witness, they would have seen you quite literally jump out of the doctor’s arms.  

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Cullen! I didn’t mean to trip and fall and–”

“No, no, please, Y/N. It was of no fault of yours. I admit, I wholly underestimated the extent of my strength in that moment.” You stare at him, still dismayed at what happened, but it seems you aren’t the only one feeling like a deer in the headlights. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?” he asks, smiling meekly.

“It’s fine, these things happen. We’re only human after all, right?”

“...Right.” There’s a moment of silence that goes on for longer than you prefer, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the punchline of some inside joke. You don’t dwell on it though. There’s really only so much social embarrassment you can handle in one day. “Now, if there aren’t any more near-accidents,” he points in the opposite direction and says, “we’re headed to the children’s hospital.”

Oh.

[nyadversary]

1 and 3 for writing ask memes!

1. give short descriptions of all your current WIPs.

the main original project i've been "working" on (i put that in quotes because this is still very much in the brainstorming stage — there is very little actually on the page yet, all i've got is notes) has gone through a variety of iterations in terms of general plot arc, but the basic premise right now (though this may change) is that it's about a writers' retreat/workshop type of program that the main characters attended as teenagers. i did a couple summer writing workshops myself as a high schooler hence the idea. the workshop happened a decade ago at the time the story starts, so the former participants are all in their mid-late 20s. they end up having an unofficial "reunion" of sorts. i'm being vague because i'm still figuring out the specifics and also the idea is that i'd reveal this gradually during the course of the story, but Something Happened during the first workshop and everyone who attended has been dealing in their own way with the aftermath of that. i'll leave it at that because this is already not a short description.

also i have a couple fanfics i've been working on occasionally; one of them i have about 11k words written (most of that is from when i started the fic back in 2014 lmao, but the last couple thousand are recent) and the other is also still in the brainstorming stage. the one i have 11k words of is a danganronpa fic that i actually plotted out a large amount of back in 2014; the basic idea is a protagonist/mastermind swap (though i guess it's actually a lot more complicated than that) and it's essentially an alternate timeline of the first game. the other one is also danganronpa, specifically sdr2, and it's sort of a similar alternate timeline idea. i just wanna write some fucking murder mystery bullshit i guess (also it's fun to play around with other people's characters)

3. what makes you love writing?

i'm not even sure that "i love writing" is how i'd put it, though that's not wrong either. the way i tend to think about it is more like... writing is something i feel the need to do, more along the lines of like a compulsive behavior. i don't feel as though i really have any choice in the matter. ever since i was a little kid i've devoted large amounts of my time to coming up with story ideas and (when i manage to) writing them down. from what i know this is fairly common with writers, i think it's also similar for those who write music or draw/paint or other forms of creative expression. it's something you just feel compelled to do. i do get an immense amount of satisfaction out of actually finishing something or getting substantial work done on a project, so i guess in a way i'm just always chasing that, but even during periods where i haven't gotten much writing done at all i'm thinking about it near-constantly.

i was also always a huge reader growing up, and i go fucking nuts about analyzing the fiction i enjoy, which probably stems directly from that. i would always reread books as a kid (often many, many times over) to catch the stuff i missed the first time, and i think that gave me a lot of appreciation for writing as a craft and has motivated me to hone my own skills in that department. good fiction (also bad fiction sometimes, especially if it still has some good elements that shine through) can have a profound impact on people — it certainly has on me — and that's what makes me feel as though this compulsion i have is worthwhile. i'm not sure that i'd ever be Successful Author material, that's all kind of a crapshoot anyway, but it is my hope that i'd be able to write something that means something to somebody, even if the audience winds up being small.

so i guess the tl;dr there is that i love writing as an art form because it's had a huge impact on me personally throughout my life. writing as an activity, though, i tend to think of more as like "me doing this is just how it is on this bitch of an earth."

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Do you think they would actually enjoy the modern world? Or would they want to stay in their current time period?

Hm, well, I think that may vary depending on each suitor if I’m honest! (I’ll be excluding Sebastian from this one, only because he is a modern man and I wager he would want to stay in the mansion in order to finish his thesis) 

Under a cut bc it’s a long boi:

I think for people like Arthur and Theo, for instance--who always seem to live in the fast lane--it might not really prove much of a problem. They would continue enjoying the night life and move with their busy schedules. Tl;dr: (For them? Same shit, different day)

Vincent would likely be doing just fine given how Theo often provides assistance in places where he struggles; to promote his art, to spark intrigue in the general public and benefactors. He might be a little overwhelmed by the influx of stimuli that comes with the modern era, constant noise and interaction and movement--perhaps worry that people are losing their ability to live in the moment. (Not to mention what’s being done to the environment...) There might be a learning curve/adjustment, but I think Theo would help him ease in. Plus, it would be a little easier to promote his art given the less stringent restrictions on public exhibitions. He’d still have to work for his fame, but at least the van Goghs wouldn’t have to live in constant unease in the proximity of the cutthroat academy.  Tl;dr: (Mixed feelings, but tries to stay positive about modern times)

Dazai is more familiar with this kind of life of quick turmoil and breakneck speed, if anything he falls back into his old coping mechanisms--hello writing, drinking, and smoking. An overwhelming influx of information and suffering would probably be hard for him to manage, despite how expertly he hides it. I think I would be worried he would lose himself in the dismal reality of diminished connection with other people. Yes I’m shoving him into therapy, I want him to start living for himself and taking care of himself ffs

That isn’t to say there aren’t happy possibilities for him, just that I think he really needs to heal first. I could see him very happy in a kind of writer’s circle with people he loves and trusts; less expending his energy in a desperate attempt to fill the void and please others, more cultivating his own happiness... Tl;dr: (Positive potential, but honestly part of me thinks the past quieter/simple/rural life suits him better...he still loves meme culture tho, he finds it so expansive and creative)

Isaac is in a similar boat as Dazai, I think! He has wonderful potential as a mentor and professor, and living in a world that has a little more patience and respect for genius might help encourage him to put himself out there. That being said, I think the pace of life would exhaust him though--he is very much the kind of person that prefers to keep to himself and just puzzle and tinker. Baby boy just wants to do equations, build little inventions, and read up on the recent discoveries in astrophysics (BRUH WHEN THE IMAGE OF THE BLACK HOLE CAME OUT HE FORGOT HOW TO B R E A T H E) Napoleon is the only reason he eats anything healthy or on any kind of regular schedule s m h. Tl;dr: (Not a lot changes, honestly? He was reclusive then, he still is now--he just has more toys/academic resources. If anything he might get a little too lost in his work because of it, somebody please make sure he’s eating/sleeping/socializing;;;)

Poor Jeanne is SUFFERING. Please release him from this nightmare he is begging. Jk jk, I don’t think it would be too bad for him--but I do think that he would have the aforementioned problem of too many stimuli and too much interaction. I think he would ease into it a little with Mozart’s help; he would just be awkward and wooden until he got the hang of it. Most people just find him quirky in an amusing way, and don’t think too hard about it. I’d wager he’d probably become literate at this point because of the abundance of resources and necessity to read/write (okay but imagine this baby with a little kid workbook iM GONNA CRY!!! TAKE ALL MY CRAYONS JEANNE). 

Can you imagine this mofo at a Starbucks??? Tall and stoic, dark and debonair (EVERYONE IS S W O O N I N G), and he just asks in a light tenor “can I have a mocha with eight shots of expresso” with a completely straight face. “Sir, that could kill you” “Don’t worry, I’ve been dead a long time” And he just moves to wait for his order. 11/10 cryptid I could watch an entire show just about his daily adventures

He works with Napoleon a lot given their similar skillsets. They coach kids at high schools that have fencing teams (it’s really REALLY cute bc if they’re on the younger side, Jeanne will very dramatically lose bc he wants to encourage them and the kids are delighted--but the parents are INCHES from laughing so hard they’re in tears). Otherwise, he mostly takes up gigs as a security worker/bodyguard, only really works for the money. He prefers to spend his time in ways that feel meaningful if he can, so don’t be surprised if you see him in foster homes and in social working spaces. He has an uncanny understanding about him, a kind of silence/patience that doesn’t stifle; it makes the kids/teens calm down in milliseconds. They really listen when he does talk, and he sets good and clear boundaries--he knows how to be firm when it’s required. He gives them the structure and placid grounding they’ve never had, and really pays attention to what’s important to them. Brings them little things he notices; brings flowers to the one that likes to draw, brings CDs (he is bad with technology, but they usually only have access to older/outdated stuff anyway) to the one the one that struggles to write with white noise in the house, brings little plushies to the ones that lose theirs. He’s simple but solid, and he finds a lot of meaning in helping kids overcome the similar kind of struggles he faced.  Tl;dr: (Steep learning curve, but he just sees it as all the same really--just more work to be done with the literacy requirement and adjustment to technology. Will be resistant at first, but when he gets accustomed and starts finding people who are important to him, he wouldn’t want to change anything/go back. But will admit there are some days he just wants to go to the most remote place he can access and just live there for a month with no human interaction whatsoever; people are inefficient and insufferable sometimes)

Mozart’s life honestly doesn’t change much? I feel like he would easily be able to keep composing and continue releasing his work as per usual. Given his quick capacity to schmooze and say what people want to hear when he must, he’d be more than able to network his way into success. I think the only thing he might struggle with now and again is inspiration, given the world operates on a very surface level in the modern era sometimes. Profound insight and depth are not quite as cultivated in many ways, and he can struggle to find something that just sparks motivation/novelty in his mind, makes him start composing at breakneck speed. He reads a lot and watches some TV shows/movies when he’s at really low inspiration levels, the kind of guy that sneers at Game of Thrones--but finds things like BBC’s Sherlock more passable (wants intrigue and complexity, doesn’t much enjoy the sensationalized drivel). When Arthur finds out he loves ATLA he about falls off his seat. “It’s a children’s show.” “Yes it is, with a remarkable level of depth and craftsmanship, what are you trying to say?” He begins to find a kind of rhythm in his composing, and Jeanne and Dazai often drop by with so many crazy stories he finds himself filled with music anyway LMAO Tl;dr: (Same as Isaac, really just keeps doing his thing without being impeded, and he enjoys the luxuries/conveniences of the modern era. Will be slightly resistant at first because of how alien some of the changes are, but will fall into the habits/customs slowly and surely. Fine with it, will whine a bit at the growing pains tho)

Leonardo actually canonically owns a bar, and does that really surprise anyone? He really enjoys the excitement of meeting new people and hearing about their myriad histories, the influx of cultures/languages/experiences. It’s a nice but lowkey place, people stop for a drink, listen to some good music--chat amiably and relax after a long day’s work--before heading out. There are regulars and people that just stop for that single day; tourists, vacationers, so on and so forth.

When asked, many people note a sleek black cat with sharp eyes that led them to the bar... Tl;dr: (Don’t Let the Existential Dread Set-in: The Prequel, adapts well to the modern era because of centuries of experience but also...he’s so tired...somebody please hold him I can’t watch him live like this, lord jesus)

Optimally, I see Comte filling his time with myriad pursuits; ranging from philanthropy, indulging in art/music/theatre (often a benefactor as well), and keeping track of his chirren (they may exist more independently now, but he still worries about them ;-;). Otherwise nothing much changes for him, still goes to galas and fancy gatherings, still enjoys fashion and spoiling people, still seeks to occupy himself with social interaction and care-taking--if he doesn’t have a family of his own. He’s basically just that meme that’s like DON’T LET THE EXISTENTIAL DREAD SET-IN. DON’T LET IT SET-IN!!!!!!!!! Tl;dr: (Not to repeat myself but also Don’t Let the Existential Dread Set-in: The Sequel, literally just desperately trying to fill the void please somebody help him he also just needs to be held fuck’s sake, I’m going to drag him kicking and screaming into happiness--but otherwise has no great trouble adjusting to the modern era. I feel like he would have a more minor form of what Dazai struggles with, maybe a lack of personable connection that he once had; fewer chances to be himself and relax. Also probably worried about the increasing unhappiness and turmoil building in the world in general...)

Napoleon is similar to Comte in that he often checks up on Isaac and Jeanne from time to time, and does the aforementioned fencing lessons with kids. He also takes a lot of basic security positions--for venues, concerts, museums--you name it. He dislikes the idea of sitting behind a desk a lot, so he prefers to do a lot of different things; he even cooks from time to time at the restaurants  that know him very well. One gig he particularly enjoys is battle choreography for movies/theatre! He tends to stay away from anything too historically close to his era of origin, but he has fun coming up with realistic (smaller scale) hand-to-hand combat scenarios and duels. Tl;dr: (This era doesn’t feel like too much of a change. It’s a little more intensive in terms of pace, but he manages to keep up pretty well, it just exhausts him from time to time--and he usually goes on trips or hikes to unwind when he needs to like Jeanne LOL they do not go to their happy place, they go to their high lonesome place).

Shakespeare also continues to do his drama thing, organizes troupes on tons of different levels--from community level to more intense, skilled groups that re-enact his own work. His life doesn’t change all that much beyond a new form of theatre logistics, and he adjusts to the technology fairly easily out of necessity. He’ll stop by Vincent’s place from time to time to show him recordings of his latest shows, but otherwise is almost always on the move. Tl;dr: (So long as he can keep following his greatest passion, he doesn’t really mind the changes in how theatre happens--he doesn’t have any sizable issues with the modern era.)

Ability with technology (phones mostly):

Arthur: more than capable, well-versed, loves to do everything on his phone no prob--maybe lives a little too much on his phone (Vine/TikTok/Youtube can kill his productivity RIP) also yes he has a fidget spinner on his desk, no I will not be taking any constructive criticism at this time

Theo: yes but with a lot of cursing at first, had to do it for work and now looks down on anyone that can’t keep up with him (except for Vincent)

Vincent: knows the basics, taking and sending pictures, writing things in notes for later, texting (tho sending emails is a little harder for him); he does his best but he can be slow. Really really enjoys the paint programs on his iPad for when he’s on public transit, but he starts setting alarms after he gets the hang of it (he’s missed his stops before because of it LMAO)

Leonardo: what kind of stupid question? Man knows how to pick them apart and put ‘em back together for crying out loud, uses it like a pro--comes to him naturally, and he’s the guy that keeps coming up with ways to jailbreak Apple products and thwart their money-grubbing tactics. Catch him playing Minish Cap on his emulator on the way to work, brah

Comte: just vibing, keeps up with the times easily since he’s been doing it for so long, much like Theo uses it to keep in touch with the people around him--he’s the “prefers to call instead of text” sorta guy though, he worries about losing emotional subtleties and he likes to hear people’s voices. Doesn’t do anything special on phones, more just a tool; will read/listen to podcasts/does have emulators (courtesy of Leo) and enjoys playing Pokemon when he’s bored

Jeanne: types one finger at a time, it will take a while--but he’ll get there (deleted all his contacts by accident once and Mozart was just. HOW.) He barely knows how to use a phone, and it’s a steep learning curve for him

Mozart: purely functional when it comes to his phone, refuses to rely on it beyond the necessities that only tech can do (for instance, sending emails or reading articles or uploading compositions) he still writes his music before making more polished digital copies. He will sometimes listen to pieces digitally, but prefers to play them in-person; he feels that a lot of the soul in a piece is lost despite the convenience

Dazai: you absolute fools. you baboons. why would you ever give him this kind of power. it is 3AM and he has been on a wikipedia trail spanning hours, started with Cleopatra being the seventh in her line with that name all the way to cotton candy being called “daddy’s beard” in French. please help him he hasn’t slept in years. Also probably binges anime and manga lbr. He’s the one making vine references every other second, always up to date on the memes^TM

Isaac: also mostly uses it as a tool for research and calculations; it’s a way to keep track of information. He also likes to play background music while he’s working, so he finds the device nice and convenient--plus less having to go around pestering people in-person. he does start to get interested in coding and tinkering with apps/programs eventually, too

Shakespeare: finds it a delightful little contraption, so useful because it lets him jot down ideas as they come to him quickly, and he can edit his texts much more easily with digital interfaces. also likes that performances can be recorded, because now he can analyze his staging more efficiently--it gives him a good sense of what needs to be adjusted, and encourages him to keep streamlining/try new concepts

Napoleon: likes it because he can keep in touch with people more easily, the kind of guy to drop a line before checking on a friend. he really likes to look up recipes and find out more about cooking techniques he’s never encountered before. Isaac starts making an Instagram account just to show Napoleon’s impeccable plating, and Napo gets quite the following without knowing for a while

[everybodyscupoftea]

chemistry

isaac lahey x reader

isaac needs help in chemistry and you need help in english - the beginning

this is for isaac anon and the few people that wanted this. i’m just dabbling here, so let me know if you guys want more! (i did quite a bit of Research for this and i have ideas)

also let me know, i left it vague, but if i expand i’m probably going to add in scott, stiles, allison, and lydia. would you guys like to keep it supernatural or do full au where they’re just normal college students?

You noticed the boy in your Intro to Academic Writing course, but you didn’t really focus on him, mostly due to freshman year stress, until he sat down next to you in General Chemistry. Stepping into the classroom you’d felt at ease, science was your jam, but the really cute boy put you back on edge. You felt hyperaware of him, his scent, kind of cinnamon-y, fall-esque.

He tapped his fingers on his notebook, and you couldn’t help but notice he wrote in green pen. You glanced every so often to see him doodling in the corner of the page instead of taking notes on the intro lesson on the scientific method that your professor was doing.

The boy rested his chin on his hand and his fingers went from tapping on the notebook to his jaw and you shook your head, trying to focus back on the professor who was talking about your lab groups.

“The people at your table are in your group. Lab is on Wednesday nights, I won’t be the instructor, you’ll have a TA, but you can email me or come to my office hours if you have any questions about what’s going on. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”

You started to pack your stuff and the boy turned to you with a crooked grin, “I’m Isaac.”

Shaking his hand, you introduced yourself and he stood, waiting for you to finish packing your stuff. You zipped your booksack, “You’re in my English class, right?” you asked, faking as if you didn’t notice him as soon as you stepped into the door.

He nodded, “Yeah, with Dr. Terranova.”

“He seems,” you trailed off, looking for the right word, “interesting.”

Isaac grinned, “You mean overwhelmingly picky for an English 101 professor?”

“That’s a great way to put it,” you told him, laughing.

The two of you walked out the door and down the hall together. Isaac shifted his booksack on his shoulders a little and asked, “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Calculus,” you told him and he grimaced.

“Fuck that.”

“You?”

He nodded, “Spanish.”

Unfortunately for you, the buildings were on opposite ends of campus, so you paused just outside the door to the chemistry building. Isaac paused too and smiled, “See you tomorrow night?”

“See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

-

Your lab group was made up of two boys and two girls. Isaac, Andrew, Abigail, and you. Out of the group, you were the only STEM major, and the only one who actually liked chemistry. Isaac patted your shoulder, “Well, that officially makes you team captain then.”

“Thank god,” Abigail added, “I’m an advertising major, my brain noped out of the sciences years ago.”

The other guy, Andrew, said, “I took Chem 2 in high school and didn’t pass the AP exam, chemistry and I have beef.”

You snorted and said, “Cool, well, I’ll try and lead us to the promised land.” They seemed to like that.

-

Your group was really smart, everyone was picking up the labs really easily and you were thrilled, especially when the teacher stood in front of the class after the first test review. She clapped her hands once, “Okay, the lab group with the highest combined test average gets five bonus points added to their test scores. This is me trying to get you guys familiar with study groups, especially if you’re going to be in STEM, which I know some of you are. Study groups got me through school.”

Unfortunately, everyone in your lab group already had stuff going on, so you couldn’t study with them. Fortunately, the test was on intro stuff like the scientific method, conversions, and balancing equations, and your group hadn’t had any issues in any of the lab work, so you weren’t worried.

But when you got the test back, you realized, maybe you should’ve been. Isaac got his handed back first and actually laughed when he looked at the grade. Before you could ask, the professor set yours down on the desk and you started flipping through it, frowning at the little points you’d had taken off for careless mistakes.

“Fuck,” you muttered, “should’ve gotten at least a 97.”

“Wow, can’t believe you fucked it up for the whole group,” Isaac sarcastically responded, nudging you with his elbow, before sliding his test on top of yours. He nudged you again, “As you can see, I’m carrying the team,” and he motioned toward the D written in bright red at the top of his paper.

Your mouth dropped open and you picked the test up, flipping through to see what he’d missed. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked over at him, “You should tell her you accidentally skipped the back page.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an accident, I just didn’t know how to do it.”

“Well,” you stuttered, “it was the same stuff we did in the last lab activity.”

Isaac nodded, “Yes it is, and I didn’t understand it then either.”

“I thought,” you paused, mind racing, “I thought we all did?”

He grinned at you, “Some of us aren’t science brains, my friend.”

“What are you?” you asked as the class started to pack up.

With a soft smile, he threw his booksack over his shoulder, “I’m a literature major.”

-

You didn’t mean to think about it as much as you did, but when 2 a.m. rolled around and you were at your most impulsive you couldn’t stop yourself from sending out a text.

Hey, do you maybe want to meet up and study sometime?

After hitting send you could’ve slammed your head into a wall. You locked your phone and put your head in your hands, “God damnit.” And then your phone dinged.

I’d love that, love to have a STEM genius in my corner.

Your cheeks heated as you read it and your mind raced with your heart. It was beating harder and part of you couldn’t even believe he’d said yes. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you responded.

Idk about genius but I’m not half bad at chem

He responded, even faster than the first time and you grinned, unable to stop it from overtaking your face.

I may not know much about the scientific method or whatever, but all evidence suggests otherwise, genius

-

The next test wasn’t for a few weeks, but Isaac wanted to start studying earlier. He suggested meeting at a coffee shop called The Beanery. Coffee shops weren’t really your jam, you liked the silence of the fourth floor of the library. Go early, get a table, put in head phones, and go to work. But, you were open to try Isaac’s suggestion.

It was brightly lit when you walked in, and he was already there, at a table in the corner, laptop out. Books were spread across the tabletop, and he already had two empty mugs on the table in front of him, leg bouncing as he aimlessly chewed on a pen.

Shaking yourself out of staring, you walked to the counter to order. Isaac smiled up at you when you made it to the table with your coffee.

“Welcome,” he told you, moving some of his books out of the way. Sitting up straighter, Isaac glanced around, “What do you think about this place?”

“It’s nice, definitely a change of pace from my norm.”

“Where’s that then?”

“Library, fourth floor.”

“Quiet up there, huh?”

“Yeah, but I listen to some music for background.”

“I like coffee shops,” Isaac said, closing his laptop, “the vibes are nice and my clothes always smell like coffee afterward which is a fun bonus.”

At his comment, you looked down at his clothes. You were a little surprised to see that he was dressed just like during the week: jeans, a nicer t-shirt, and a cardigan. You’d wondered, deep down, if he dressed nicer for class, but it didn’t seem the case. Isaac cleared his throat and your eyes snapped to his face, ears burning when you saw him staring at you in amusement.

Coughing quietly, you reached for your booksack, “So, chemistry. Do you understand what we’ve been going over?”

“I know they’re called Bohr models but I don’t know anything else about them.”

“Right, so,” you paused a minute, trying to figure out where to start, “it’s a way to draw an atom and it’s kind of like a planet.”

Isaac leaned forward through your explanation, resting most of his weight on his elbows, and tapped the green pen against his lower lip. Every so often he’d ask a question, shift a little and write something down in his notebook by whatever he’d scribbled in class. His questions were shockingly insightful, and you eagerly answered them all.

By the time you’d gotten through the basics of thermodynamics, he’d added a whole page of notes, and you could tell he was starting to lose interest. Shutting your notebook, you told him, earnestly, “I hope this helped a little.”

“I promise,” he looked you straight in the eye, “it makes sense. This all looked like a foreign language before we met up.”

“Good,” you nodded, “this is my jam.”

“Keep on spreading it,” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well,” you admitted, “you may not be good at chem but you’d kick my ass into next week in English.”

“How’s your paper going?” Isaac asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, looking genuinely interested.

“It’s…going.”

He snorted, “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“Yeah neither does my thesis.”

“Do you have your laptop?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me have a look,” he suggested.

Pulling up the word doc, you passed your laptop over, staring down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs, a little nervously, as he read through your rough draft.

“What did Dr. Terranova have to say in your conference?” he asked, pushing your laptop away.

You sighed, “He was less than complimentary.”

Isaac laughed, “It’s not that bad, but it could use some polishing. I can help of course.”

Relief washed over you and you felt a weight off your shoulders, “That would be incredible actually.”

“There, now we’re even. You tutor me in chemistry and I’ll make sure you pass English, starting with this rough, and emphasis on rough, draft.”

Reaching across the table, you shoved at his hand, “Be gentle.”

“I’m going to get another chai,” he said, standing to stretch a bit, “and you pick out what sentence exactly you think is your thesis. We’ll start there.”

Biting your lip to conceal a grin, you nodded, waking your laptop back up.