#but u will find some halfway decent stuff!!!!!!!!!

[syluses]

HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS

𓍯𓂃 PART TWO (2) of the stepdad! sylus x reader series

(2) THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND

𓍯𓂃 CONTENT: stepdad! sylus therefore step/pseudocest, eventual smut, nsfw, dubcon, slowburn, yandere undertones, all characters are 18+ (mc is presently 23; sylus is in early forties), possessive & yandere behaviors, age difference, daddy kink, unreliable narrator, drinking, non-evol au, modern au, lowkey enemies to lovers, lots of (sexual) tension, loss of virginity, emotional breakdowns, some angst, some fluff, a lil bit of everything; tags will be added as story progresses— but know the story is relatively triggering

𓍯𓂃 SIDENOTE: ayyy finally got chapter 2 out ✨ apologies for the wait!! but i hope u enjoy this one my friends :] 💕 also sorry for any typos PLEASE overlook them i beg :,) i hate the edit/revise process it took SO long but i hope my sleep-addled brain did me decent as i went thru to correct stuff. oh also i made a teeny mistake in part one, but i fixed it and its very inconsequential (used wrong number: 6 changed to 7). but anyway just letting u know if ur very observant & noticed a difference lol!! [art credit: @/chimmyming on twitter/X]

It’s hard to be secretive, tiptoeing down the hallway toward the stairs, when halfway through it opens up into the living room’s overhang.

If someone were sitting on the couch, and they heard so much as a creak from above, all it’d take is a glance thrown over their shoulder to spot you with a hand hesitantly placed on the banister, leery of stepping down to the first floor.

Nervewracking.

Perhaps it’s a bit dramatic to compare it to walking into the lion’s den- but you’re not the most talkative of persons, especially not with him, and it does seem daunting in your head to be cornered into conversation. Like prey meeting predator. Small meeting big. One delicate discussion could do you in, but you won’t bet on your demise being brought along so… easily.

To your immense relief, when you you peek around the stone column and survey the area below (mainly the L-shaped sofa, facing the massive wall-mounted TV above the fireplace), you find it empty.

At that, you let out a quiet breath. Some of your courage returns.

If you had spotted the twins, it would’ve been manageable, more so than if it was their dad, anyway.

It was only an hour ago (well, an hour and ten minutes, but you hope they won’t hold that against you— and considering all their tardy slips in highschool, they wouldn’t have the right) that you’d held conversation with them, and it went alright.

It’s a bit harder for you to admit that it was actually pretty nice to see them again.

Cathartic, even.

There’s a part of you that’s vulnerable and girlish- carefully stowed beneath the tough skin you lay on in front of most of everyone else- locked somewhere safe- and yes, it did miss them.

But you’re meant to dislike the three of them. Your meddling stepfamily who slipped into the cracks of your home, your mother’s heart, no different than an invasive species would. Stuck a foot into the door of your life and pressed until the hinge gave.

Once, it was easy. As effortless as breathing.

You didn’t have to think about it, or deliberate on it, or make all the justifications in your head- no, you hated them and that was it.

That feeling was meant to be final. Set in stone.

You thought it was.

For a time you even likened Sylus to Cinderella’s evil stepmother and his two conniving sons to the insufferable stepsisters. Oh, it’s childish, you know; looking back on those moments, you don’t know whether you want to hug the teenage girl you’d been or laugh in the face of her.

As it stands, though, Anastasia and Drizella aren’t half the monsters you’d once liked to believe. Awfully enough, you’ve warmed up to them, maybe even came to love them.

You’re stubborn, not stupid: Luke and Kieran have a special place in your heart and you recognize that.

You’re sure that they do, too. It’s what makes them bolder during every confrontation; brings out the smiles where they once paled. Scared you’d yell or shriek for your mom to just—

Get these two idiots out of my room!

That was then, though.

Things are different now. Changed.

…The ‘Lady Tremaine’ in this picture is still a work in progress. If you’re being honest, you wouldn’t be too terribly upset if it stayed that way—

No. But no, because…

Your mother would’ve been happy if you got along with him. Made amends. It’s a truth as sour as it is undebatable.

“Baby, please- he’s a good man, really. Can you just try, for me? I know you miss your dad, I know you do, I do, too-“

‘Does she?’ To save your hide, you bite that remark down, but listen on just as grumpily.

“-but I think that this can be a good thing if you just-“

Her words echo in the walls of your head. Plangent, bouncing. Like a gunshot ringing out through a canyon, it’s still loud in your conscience, even more so now that she won’t be around to nag you on the matter any further.

—“Smiled.”

If you don’t like Sylus, you’re the bad guy, right? And damn it all if that doesn’t dredge up an ounce of bitterness in you, but—

…For the sake of this trip, for the sake of her no longer being here (and oh, what you wouldn’t give so she could be here), you’ll do your best to swallow down your misgivings about your stepfather.

And you’ll be good.

Two weeks.

Reminding yourself of that for what must be the millionth time, you push off the truffle-wrap pillar to continue into the lofty hall. Starting down the wide, marble staircase in silence.

You’re not so sure where their father is. You definitely have your guesses— A fancy-shmancy meeting or outing that’s called him outside of the estate, or perhaps he’s simply in his study working, running an errand— All of which you hope are correct for the sake of avoiding him.

This late lunch of yours and the twins’ should be just that.

Yours and the twins’.

✦

The further you press into the first floor, the more you smell whatever the private chef is cooking.

Delicious, whatever it is. And no surprise there- the man who hired him demands only the best of the best. He’ll brook nothing less.

As you get closer, the aromas (some too faint to label, others almost dominating your senses: garlic, a pinch of ginger, the mouthwatering scent of meat) blend into a savory potpourri. A cohesive, expertly-made dish, you’re sure.

It’s true that in the past five years since your moving out that your visits have become more sporadic, far and few in between, but meals gathered around a tabletop brimming with tasty sides and entrées will always be a distinct memory you hold of this place.

I mean, you were all but forced by your mother to endure them. Thus, dinner became a special time for you and your stepfamily to bond.

Even Sylus, the endlessly busy CEO of some lucrative company you pretend not to know the name of, made room within his schedule where he could.

However, bonding is not what generally happened.

Teenage you always thought those dinners were stupid. Awkward at the best of times. Smiles too tight to be polite, hands passing around bowls you’d stick your nose up to. Not out of disgust, no, the platters never failed to make you drool- but because you’d take your dad’s homemade roast chicken over your stepfather’s insincere, gourmet trays any day of the week.

To be honest? you’d been mean to them, you’ll admit that much. Cruel even. A big brat with an even bigger bone to pick. You and your family didn’t come from rags, but your origins were infinitely more humble than the twin’s, than what Sylus had— yet you were prissy and rude in a way that they somehow weren’t... Presumptuous.

So upset with the new arrangement you couldn’t think straight.

“Y/n, pick up the fork for God’s sake- can’t you see your father went through all this just to have a meal with us tonight?”

Placatingly, “Honey. It’s alright.”

It’s not quite a snarl that you throw her way, but it’s close. With no one here to spank you, you’re allowed to mouth off a little, be unruly. No one’s here to stop you— your mother’s never had the arm for the paddle and regardless of that, she clearly shouldn’t be responsible over you if she can’t even make good decisions for herself.

To date, her worst decision yet is bringing that asshole around…

Pointedly ignoring the attention that’s gravitated to you, you scowl.

Maybe you are pushing the part of brat a touch too far- a shock, taking your past obedience into play- but how else will you get her to see you? Your hurt? I mean, the twins misbehave endlessly at school and at best, they get a slap on the wrist, no doubt because of their mogul of a father, but you don’t miss the laughs or rueful glances tossed their way.

The positive feedback.

“…Father?” You snip, eyes laser-focused on the woman at the far end of the table. The twins juggle between watching you and their dad with bated breath, half grinning in mischievous delight.

For several moments, the latter doesn’t move.

Sure enough, though, that cardinal gaze finds its roost on you. Not that you’re paying it any mind.

The air shifts when you open your mouth again, rising from the table with a start. The finely-placed cutlery jumps as you do.

“I don’t care if you’ve married him, made him your ‘quote on quote’ husband, that’s not my father and never will be. And these stupid boys that trail me all damn day long aren’t my family, either!”

“Whoa-ho! We caught a stray, bro!”

A beat of stunned silence.

Galileo crosses your mind; mainly what he did when the spotlight fell to him. The point is that there’s still time to recant, the rational part of your brain whispers. To backtrack.

Your cheeks warm. Heart pounding in your chest at the embarrassment of voicing your emotions, making a literal stand. But you can’t stop now. It’s too late to.

“A-And…” A tremble. You’re- You’re trembling, comes the small revelation. Ignoring it, you barely repress a wince, standing there uncertainly.

Finally, your mother- finding her bearings- angrily sputters out your government name.

You almost cow to it.

But you can’t be weak, not now, not in front of them, and-

In a frantic moment, your eyes dart over opposite the table to collide with his, your voice shaking wildly as the twins, at either side of you, snicker.

You swallow down the dregs of your self-consciousness to uncivilly pick up your fork and wave it at him.

“And you! Don’t even get me started on how awful you are! What you’ve done to me!”

All along you’ve done your damnedest to ignore him, only adding in your two cents where it was absolutely necessary. The last month or two you’ve spent under the same roof as him has been nothing less than an excellent demonstration of the cold shoulder on your part. You want the credit for that.

So when you point a literal finger, staring him down like you would prey through a muzzle and furrow your brow as unbidden tears wet your lash-line, his eyes actually double in size. Your stepfather, having forgotten to breathe by the looks of it (albeit, you have too), straightens by a fraction.

Good. That’s...

That’s good, you think.

Something in the back of your mind says ��heel,’ says ‘don’t poke the bear,’ warns in every possible language you can think of that this is NOT a good idea. He’s rich enough to fill whole swimming pools with cash and powerful enough to move people like chess pieces— probably nudge them out of the game and off the board, too.

But he’ll never be the man of your house. You won’t allow it. So call it sheer stupidity on your end or just a death wish but—

“Y-You’ve stolen everything from me!”

On your right, Luke blinks with hesitant awe, his amusement petering out. Kieran’s jaw shuts. The foot he’d been kicking you with under the table draws away from yours. He exchanges a brief, suddenly sobered look with his brother as everything you’ve been holding back on these past several weeks looses to the surface.

“Y/n-!”

“You took it all! My mother, my dad’s honor, even my fucking house-!”

For the second time, your government name flies across the panel of demurred faces, but you’ve reached your melting point. The watershed where fear and politeness, all the conventional little things you’re supposed to respect and operate by, warps into hot unbridled anger.

This is a cut that originated from your father’s death, one exacerbated awfully by Sylus and his two sly, obnoxious sons- so you think it’s due time to let it bleed.

Bleed, it does.

But then- “You ruined my life, you-“

A breath. Stuttering and shallow and tender. It’s horrifying to realize it came from you.

“Y-You….”

Through the blur is a low, gentle murmur.

Rich and thick. You think even if your ears ceased to work, something in your chest could still recognize it; the bass moves through your ribs and rattles them.

In your periphery, for as fogged as it’s become what with the tears that suddenly speckle the room- the ones you vaguely acknowledge but do all you can to hold, even if just for a few more moments- the silver-haired man sets down his utensil. Nonchalant per usual. With unrivaled class.

It pisses you off.

Without looking at your frazzled mother, he raises a hand to calm her. “Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright. Let her speak.”

Speak…?

Oh- Is that what he fucking thinks this is? That you’ve stood, clinking the side of your glass with a spoon to humbly direct the diners’ attention from the plates spread tastefully before them to you as you prepare a fancy speech of sorts-?

This isn’t an announcement you’re making. This is not even a conversation. It’s just-

It’s just-

The epiphany that every set of eyes is on you including the chef’s (still tucked in the kitchen, as poor as any man could be as he hurriedly cleans up)— and that you are being treated no different than a dangerous animal that needs patience and slow movement to be handled, corralled back into a fucking cage—

It’s so infuriating you go quiet.

Your brain reaches a lapse and you shut up. Lips flattening into a pursed line immediately, you ball your fists and scamper back off to where it’s safest.

Your room.

“Sis, wait, Kieran said he’s sorry for kicking you under the table-“

You’d ignored it all and then you’d cried.

“Kieran,” an unexpected growl. “A word.”

…You suppose time has a funny way of soothing, though, because right now when you recollect the moment, you find the humor in it and scoff quietly.

“Dad, wait, I-I was just kidding around with her!”

Yeah okay, it was a bit embarrassing- you were a bit embarrassing- but you won’t hold that against sixteen year old you. She knew fuck all else how to navigate.

The big house is familiar and airy as you walk through the lower floor, as quiet as you left it.

Even if you’d forgotten the layout, whatever fragrance wafting from the kitchen would be enough to guide you there.

You wonder if it’s some kind of stirfry. A far cry from the humble PB&J’s you’ve been making yourself at home with chips sometimes as a side, but your tummy growls for it all the same.

You haven’t ate since sometime yesterday. As your tongue wets itself in anticipation, you’re made very aware of that now.

You spot the rice cooker on the side counter when you finally walk in and the blurred figures of the twins as they turn to look at you.

Luke, perched on a bar stool to eagerly watch the chef work his magic, hops off just to pull out another one at its right. The look in his eye, glittering, full of anticipation, tells you verbatim to ‘sit right here’. You don’t bother protesting- you’re already some minutes late after all- and climb up onto the seat between them.

Kieran, at your left, scoots closer to sling his arm over your shoulder. You let it happen with a small wince. The chair supporting the other twin gives a short screech when he, too, inches closer to fold his arms on the counter, lean his head on them, and angle his cheek to look at you.

“So, sis, how do you like Linkon so far?”

Not paying them much attention, you quirk an eyebrow.

Between watching the chef as he deftly tosses the pan back and forth (broccoli, you see now, with meat cubes he folds in) and glancing at the archways connecting the rest of the house into the kitchen- eyes peeled for someone- the twins are not your priority right now.

At the top, that list looks something like this: Eat a nice midday meal without any incident involving their dad.

“I’ve lived in Linkon almost all my life, don’t act like this is my first time here,” you poke back, albeit in a somewhat hushed tone. The walls might as well have ears.

Kieran reaches out to run an idle finger down the jut of your shoulder, his chin lazily propped up by his hand.

He looks at you.

“Sis, do you even realize for how long you were gone?”

His voice is light. Conversational. You’re not so deluded, though, by their indifferent, laidback act. You’ve known them not for a decade but not far off from that either, and you’ve learned to catch the whiff of trouble in the air before it blows its wind your way.

When you finally throw them each a gander, hesitantly prying your gaze from the open entries, the delight masked behind each placid set of eyes is absolutely there— just hiding well.

They’re getting much more amusement out of this than they’re letting on.

You’ll give them credit here: they’ve gotten better at pretending they’re not up to no good,… but there’s no bamboozling you.

You think about it for a few seconds before quipping back. “Almost seven months,… right?”

“Right,” Luke chirps beside you, “Seven whole months!” You turn your head to focus on him now.

(Ah, that’s right- you inwardly alert yourself upon notice- no matter who you’re facing, the other will inevitably be in your blindspot… Have to keep on your toes these upcoming weeks if you don’t want them pulling a trick on you.)

He pouts his lips, ever dramatic, to play up the kicked expression and make it all the more impactful as they guilt trip you. “Seven whole months where Kieran and I were left alllllll on our lonesome. Left to fend for ourselves.”

“Oh, you big babies.” With a huff, half-smiling, you lean out to flick his forehead. His hood slips off when he tries to nod away from your attack, laughing softly as wild, red tufts come loose.

“You’re plenty old enough now to care for yourselves. You can’t always rely on me for everything. Besides,” you start, thoughtful, and this is when your already quiet voice slinks into a whisper, one the boys draw in to hear.

Luke’s attention drifting past your shoulder, “you already have the big boss man covering your asses in every sense of the word.”

From the archway, a sonorous voice rings out.

“She’s right, you know.”

You and Kieran snap your heads over to look. The chef (and you don’t why you’re suddenly staring at him, or the ground, for that matter, nervous) gives a little glance his way, dipping his chin respectfully, but doesn’t note him beyond that. A big grin blooms across the lower half of Luke’s face. You’d smack it off if you could.

Beside you, Kieran suddenly lets out a chuckle, both of the twins once more very interested in you- particularly the reaction you’re trying to hide- as you swallow and look away.

Under the broad arch, their stepfather adjusts his sleeves before casually propping himself against the wall, arms folded.

You risk a glance over and instantly regret it when you catch his eyes on yours, a brow quirked teasingly.

…Directed at the boys, you realize when he speaks again. Of course. “You two lean on your sister far too much, don’t you think? I’d say you’re lucky she’s been so patient with you both.”

A huff from one of them. But they’re so similar it might as well come from the other. “Hah, I have the patience of a saint, especially when it comes to her! Don’t forget, dad, how long it took for me to get her to even talk to me-“

Frowning, you open your mouth to argue against that, to defend your past-self’s choices (because she had every reason to ignore the obnoxious pair), but to your suprise Luke beats you to the punch.

“Bro, you have to admit,” he starts with a sheepish laugh, “we were kind of annoying kids… I mean, we were pretty much always trying to find a new way to bother her…”

Curtly, you close your mouth. That deep, rumbling voice sounds out again- light in tone- and your heart skips a beat.

“Honesty’s not a bad start... Kieran, you might benefit from taking notes from your brother.”

“Eh…”

From behind the island, tucked in front of the stove- you swear you hear the cuisiner chuckle.

The pan sizzles. Your mouth waters and you’re reminded of how hungry you are, but the longer the silver-haired man lingers in the entryway the more you’re afraid he’s there to stay.

It was supposed to be just the three of you eating together. Not- Not him. And yeah, sure, this is his house at the end of the day— you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t already painfully aware of that- a fact that’s more obvious than ever now that your only real tether to this place, your mother, is gone— but why did he have to show up now of all times?

As every gripe starts to form in your head-

Two weeks. And then, and then it’ll be over for the last time.

-you silence them.

A moment passes and Luke, still studying you with the ghost of a grin, asks what you all really want to know.

“So, dad, are you staying for lunch?”

A beat. You furtively glance up in time to watch him check his expensive wristwatch, his brow furrowed.

“Lunch, you say?” He chuckles, ruby-red eyes practically sparkling when he lifts his chin, one corner of his mouth curved- though you can tell he’s trying to mask it. “And I guess this is the early bird special?”

“Sleepyhead Y/n here rolled out of bed late.”

You huff, crossing your arms, distracting yourself with the busy chef. “And these two all but barged in while I was still busy unpacking.”

Like clockwork, much of the mirth in his expression wanes. He frowns expectantly, voice neither stern nor flat but something in between. “Boys. What did I tell you about not pestering our guest while she’s still here?”

Luke and Kieran snicker. You bite down on a grin.

“Yeah, boys,” you murmur to be annoying, just loud enough for them to hear. That’s the hope, at least.

Sylus’s little smirk returns with a vengeance. He refolds his arms, adjusting.

“…Anyway, though. I can’t stay. I have a meeting I need to sit in at the main office, unfortunately. I would’ve…” A raking of his eyes between the three of you, interested, and a brief pause, “Enjoyed that, though.”

He hums, saying more to himself now than to any of you, “another time.”

For a number of moments, the air seems oddly tense. A miasma of something unsaid hangs between the four of you, thickening the air between, and in the split second before someone breaks the silence, you’re struggling to pinpoint the root cause.

It’s just the ice from last night, you decide quietly, the bits of it that didn’t break. The friction left over.

You’re still settling in, after all.

…And yet when his gaze finds yours again, something not to be uttered in it as cherry hues zero in on you, his lashes fluttering ever so slightly—

The pulse in your chest trips and picks itself back up again.

You blink, looking down to his chest. When your stare sweeps up again to his face, almost hesitant to find what may be waiting there, he’s addressing the twins and it’s already gone.

“Well. I’m out, then. Boys: don’t drive your sister crazy. And… Kitten…”

Your brow pinches unwittingly. There, again, is that strange yet patient twinkle in his eye and it steals all the breath from your lungs in one fell swoop.

Either side of you, Luke and Kieran trade off between appearing uncertain and then appearing just as eager. Behind the steaming stove, even the chef, cottoning onto the shift in atmosphere, tosses the briefest of looks over his shoulder to assess the situation.

You nervously wet your lip. “Y-Yeah?”

Promptly, your stepfather’s countenance smooths out into an easy, pellucid smile. A whit challenging; a whit encouraging— but not at all reluctant, no, the mite of intimidation in his gaze is a simple result of your clouded thinking these past few days. Nothing more.

“Don’t pull your punches if they do.”

A swallow. “Alright.”

The twins, no different than conspiring, bothersome little rats, slap a hand over their mouths to hide a laugh, and then their dad is skimming between all three of you in your row at the counter. Albeit, his tone is too gentle for them—

“Call if you need something,” he suggests.

And then he’s gone.

A tumbleweed blows through. Kieran turns to you afterward, Luke’s hand idly dangling off your shoulder, the pair far too comfortable with taking up your space- but for now, obedient enough.

“Well, chef, how’s it looking?”

Lunch is served on a silver platter.

Swallowing down your reservations, your typical discomfort with their casual, sumptuous lifestyle, you fold to your hunger and dig in.

Kieran, ever the pest, laughs when you finish before them, shoveling a share of his saucy broccoli onto your plate. His grin is shit-eating, but you can appreciate the generosity laced under his teasing remark for what it is.

“Wow, someone’s hungry, huh? Bet you’re wishing you ate during your flight!”

✦

In the hours after, you trampoline between idling through the massive home, revisiting various memories you hold of each room and long corridor, and sitting down with a hand over your full belly. Thinking.

Maybe all the reflection isn’t for the better, though, as much as you try to keep optimistic by playing dumb to your circumstances.

You don’t blame the boys for being so energetic, even amidst the doom and gloom that’s reared its head in just the past few days— it’s a lot to handle, everything with your mother, sure it is, but they’re known for their mischief, for being nothing but happy-go-lucky. Besides… sometimes grief manifests itself in strange ways. Whether it be through inconvenient fits of laughter or a stone-faced apathy, it’s all of the same brood: an interesting yet no less instinctual coping mechanism.

Considering you’ve been forcefully naive surrounding your reasons for being flown out, you know plenty about those mechanisms yourself.

It’s not impossible that they’re mourning her in their own way, the twins. Behind all the admittedly strange, insouciant remarks and the carelessness around such a delicate situation- tasteless at the best of times- you think you see it, the cracks.

The fleeting blips of unease in Luke’s eyes. The moments where the room goes quiet after a good joke makes its round through and he has to blink something away from his conscience. Or the gelidity of his brother, for that matter. The wide-eyed stare into nothingness before he, too, shakes it away like whatever it is is no more than an intrusive thought to be tossed aside and disregarded.

Not to mention they’re gentler with you. More… chivalrous, almost.

Exhibit A:

The boys approach you closer to sunset in your bedroom, their polite, small smiles and knocks before coming in pleasant surprises each.

Perched on your bedroom’s dormer window, you boredly flip through a book you’ve read at least thrice as they ask if you’ve found a dress yet for the funeral, as respectful as they ever could be.

On cue, your world weathers at the edges. Like paper thinning through after its corner is put to a lighter.

Right, right. A dress. The- The funeral….

You’ve not even been in the Qin estate for 24 hours but you’re already letting these things- these very paramount things- slip from your mind. They should be in the forefront of it, but the more you dwell on them (your priorities: using these two weeks to prepare for the ceremony, finding suitable attire, hopefully going through her belongings once you’re ready enough), the more it hurts, so you just shut it out.

See, all of this— the dreadful knowing that your veritable mother is gone and in terms of blood and bone family, you’re now left utterly alone (that maybe if you’d just- fucking hung around a bit more you somehow could’ve reversed her fate)— has obviously affected you as much as it has your stepfamily if not more- considering they were the ones who found her and all. But the twins, and even their father, are demonstrating a master class in composure, and you don’t know whether to find gratitude in their lack of flying off the handle (in this hell, someone needs to remain coolheaded) or be offended by it.

It almost feels like she was never here.

Like nothing went wrong... But you can’t really blame them for their cool and collected behaviors, because you’re putting up a strong front yourself.

Maybe your mother wasn’t the twins’ given at birth, sure... But they operated as a true family. Even when you were bitter and stuck-up and rude, the four of them were tight-knit, so much so that eventually you felt like the fucking interloper in it all, the outlying number in the equation.

So you quietly understand that there’s hurt involved on their side around her death- whether they’re being loud about it or not- and choose not to tally it against them.

…Perhaps, you think, it’s high time for you to retire your childhood grudges, anyway.

You close the book, smoothing over the cover.

If the five-second rule applies— you use four and a half to pick up your pieces off the floor and formulate a reply, not hiding how crestfallen you are.

“No. I… I haven’t even went shopping yet. I mean, I figured-“

A thick swallow on your end- and an exhale that sounds more like the stirrings of a panic attack and the boys are at your side in a moment. Their softer facets coming through as they join you on the loft window.

Luke takes the worn stuffed animal he almost crushes, dutifully ignoring its matted fur, and places it in your lap to distract you as you struggle to articulate your emotions. Kieran does his best to not scrutinize you too much, knowing you typically don’t like the attention, while you fidget with the plushie and give them an odd show of vulnerability.

I mean, fuck it. They see you as their sister, and you’re tired of pretending to be too tough to rely on them as your brothers, so—

“I- I figured we had two whole weeks, you know? And… And that’s plenty of time to just get a dress later. Have- Have you two gotten everything ready for it?”

“Yeah,” Luke murmurs back, taking your hand in his to swallow it up in warmth. It surprises you but you don’t make a comment. As if wanting to be included as well, or maybe he’s just mad his brother beat him to the punch, Kieran quietly nudges the plushie from your other hand and intwines his fingers with yours.

Your cheeks warm.

Your heart, ricocheting in your chest, whispers something you don’t quite catch as one of them sluggishly props his chin on your shoulder, mumbling a hey, it’s alright as you furiously blink, and you’re inundated with a foreign sense of- of—

Security? …Is that it?

“We went with dad yesterday to buy the suits.”

“Before he picked you up at the airport,” Luke clarifies in a light tone.

At your back, the sun glares over a chilly courtyard, lighting the fountain and iron-wrought gates with liquid, reflective gold. It only makes the near identical visages either side of you look all the more daring and impish— boyishly handsome— as dusk washes its hues over the three of you.

It’s just a little jarring.

A set of knuckles, almost experimentally, caresses your toasty cheek.

…For perhaps the first documented time in history, you don’t bite.

“We can take you, if you want? There’s a place in town that can tailor something perfectly for you. We can go tonight to get your measurements, sis, what do you think? Just get it done?”

It’s… not a bad idea. Far from it, actually.

You’d be able to quiet the restless part of your mind. Accomplish this seemingly easy task that’s become gargantuan in your head all within the span of just one night. To top it all off, it’d be with the added bonus of the twins’ brotherly support.

“A-Actually,” you start, lifting your chin to look at Luke, and then Kieran, voice thin, “I was, um, wondering if you two could take me somewhere else.”

They wait, owlish.

You meekly continue, “I’ve already read all the books I have here. I was thinking if you could drive me to that store downtown, just so I can pick up a few. Something to, um, fill in the time while I’m here, you know?“

Kieran blinks at you, dark eyes examining your face carefully, like he’s taking it in in a new light. You’re sure they don’t know what to make of you right now: for most if not all of your teen years, you played the part of distant stepsister very well, never wore your emotions on your sleeve and hesitated to be open with any of the members of your stepfamily.

Perhaps they think you’re taking a page from their book— setting them up for some grandiose joke so you can cackle in their faces.

Luke, smiling faintly, nudges your shoulder with his and leans in. “Sure, sis. Me and Kieran will take you. I guess you haven’t changed too much while you’ve been gone, huh? You’re still a big bookworm.”

“A big nerd.”

“Alright, you two,” you chuckle lightly, jabbing them both playfully- to which they both offer up a fake, dramatic grunt of pain to- before wiping the tear that almost beads at your eye. You hope they don’t notice. But if they do, they don’t make any sly remark about it. For that you’re thankful.

It seems you’ve all matured quite a bit since pre-adulthood, but it’s somehow more obvious this time around.

This visit is different from the last in more ways than one.

Looking between them both, hardly able to hold their respective gazes as your pulse swings in your throat— “Thank you”— you murmur, gentle.

For as embarrassing as it is to be vulnerable, you let yourself be just a little sweet with them... Considering your mother is gone, and the unsteady grounds you stand on with Sylus especially- the veritable owner of this home- you think you’re less of an inhabitant here and more of a… guest.

Once these two weeks are up and the funeral concludes, you’ll be going away again. Probably for the last time. Nothing will call you back.

(You’d been such a brat. What would want to?)

The twins, unable to hide the little, genuine smirks rippling across their faces, regard you inquisitively when something like sadness flashes across your gaze.

You clear your throat. That thought of finally escaping your stepfamily- your stepfather and all he represented- for good shouldn’t make something in your heart tremble. But oh, it does.

Politely, you brush off their hands and rise to your feet. You’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you plaster on an awkward yet no less friendly smile and cross your arms.

“So, boys? You ready to go now? Or…?”

Kieran, the utter moron he is, comments something about how he was born ready, jumping up, and then they’re ushering you out the door and into the hall, towards the stairs, in a two-person stampede.

✦

You buy a book.

Three, for good measure, each thicker than the one before. Just something to occupy your mind in the windows of silence you’ll no doubt spend idling around the mansion before the ceremony.

On the way back, the sky is black underneath a cladding of clouds. Ash as far as the eye can see. The stars are hiding, but you lean your cheek against the car window and look up as if trying to spot them, anyway.

Lost in your mind, your own musings holding you close as the bag sits atop your lap, you don’t pay much attention to the boys when they ask if you wanna stop somewhere to eat because they’re getting munchy.

Without looking, though, you do tell them ‘no thanks, you’re getting kind of sleepy’ and Kieran makes the turn home— albeit not without a dramatic sigh.

It’s… pleasant though, surprisingly. Being with them.

It’s like luck is finally shuffling over to your side. Like things are finally looking up- no matter how trife or trivial they seem. For as shitty of a week it’s turned out to be, you need all the silver linings you can get. So (although with some reluctance, some… confusion) you’ll count this time with them as a small blessing.

Maybe, just maybe, this impromptu trip to Linkon is finally taking a turn for the better. Maybe each and every one of your efforts to remain patient and open-minded and mature with your stepfamily have actually begun to pay off. Maybe you won’t be tearfully pulling hair from your scalp after all, driven mad.

The twins’ harmless griping is a backdrop you smile at as the gates of the estate come into view through the woody road.

In the warmer seasons, it’s a monolithic modern thing erected atop rolling lawns striped green. As it stands now, though, the courtyard is a dull, frosted sage, quiet and cold. The fountain will need to be turned off soon before everything freezes, before the snow comes. You vaguely wonder if one of the workers or bush trimmers that come along every week or two will remember before Sylus even gives them the order. It’s likely.

A thud. “Are you sure, sis?” Your door closes behind you.

Hand still on the wheel, Kieran waggles his eyebrows as his sibling hollers from the passenger seat, thinking you’ll take his lilts as an invitation to get back into the vehicle.

“I’m sure,” you murmur fondly, actually stopping at the driver’s window for a moment to hear them out. You adjust the plastic bag in your grasp and throw a look down the rest of the driveway, towards the house.

“You want us to bring something back, at least? We found this cool new place that opened up that has the best—“

A chuckle. “I’m alright, really. We had lunch and dinner together, ‘member?” Then, you give your throat a soft, innocuous clear, scuffing your shoes over the pavement. “By the way, uh… Do you think your dad’s home yet?”

With the garage closed, the path empty and only the lights you left on in the house warmly shining through, it’s hard to tell if anybody else has come by.

Kieran actually snickers at your hesitance, the little bastard.

You reach forward to flick his forehead and he reels away with an excited shout. “Calm down, sis, I didn’t even say anything!”

“Yeah, but I see you laughing you dummy-“

“It’s just cute, is all. You’re always so worried about our old man and what he’s up to.”

You huff at that, maybe even visibly fluster. But before you can say anything, hop to your own defense, a puckish voice overlaps yours. “If you were in a cartoon, you’d have steam coming out of your ears right now.”

“Ugh! You two are unbearable-!”

“Hey, Kieran said it, not me-“

“But you thought it, didn’t you? You two share the same handful of braincells after all!!”

They both laugh, more endeared by your insults than offended- much to your dismay- and you put your tongue in your cheek. Your narrowed eyes drift back to the titanic of a home. Maybe it’s your imagination, but you almost swear you see a shadow flutter by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the bottom level and—

“Did you see that?” You untuck your arms from their weave at your chest and squint. The boys, still sniggering, follow your gaze. “I think he is home.”

A beat of silence passes.

You turn over. Luke faces ahead in his seat, wetting his lip wordlessly, but Kieran dangles his arm out the side of the fancy, sleek car (that his father surely bought for him as a toy) with his eyes set on you.

Holding your gaze with a shake of his head, his smirk is a tenuous thing, but it’s there. “Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s gone, sis.”

If you ever write a guide on surviving the Qin family, the first page would say: step one, do not believe the twins if they utter anything even a stone’s throw from the two words—

“Don’t worry.”

You frown, uncertain.

He laughs at your pouting. “Kieran- just tell me the truth-“

“I’m serious! He’ll be back later tonight, probably midnight. You know how it is. His schedule is spotty.”

A wind sweeps through and you shiver ever so slightly, clasping either of your arms as you hug them close to your body. Your lips are getting that uncomfortable dry feeling but you know it’ll only worsen if you run your tongue over them. So you don’t.

You eye the lavish, yet unassuming front of the home, ruminating. “Kieran-“

“Now go back in before you catch a cold. Dad will really kill me and Luke if he finds out you were standing out in the dark just to bicker with us.”

“I’m innocent in this,” his brother murmurs before exaggerating a yawn.

You analyze the crafty duo one more time before sensing no dupe on their end and sighing, marching up towards the house.

“Fine,” you call over your shoulder, just a little testy. You don’t want to be fooled, but there isn’t a big reason for them to lie about whether their dad’s returned or not- and even if he did make it back already, it’s no major thorn in your side. There’s a fat chance you’ll just casually, quietly, pass him by as you head to your room- and that’s even if you bump into him in the first place. The place isn’t exactly small or conducive to chance meetings.

“But if you’re lying,” you start, before blushing because you can’t quite think of a good threat. “You’ll- you’ll regret it.”

The engine purrs and the car pulls off- thank God- carrying the harmless yet bothersome mocking words of your stepbrothers with it. “Ohhhh so scary! See you later!”

You cluck your tongue, shaking your head at no annoyance of theirs in particular as you hop up the steps and fish for the key in your pocket.

Giggling under your breath. Idiots.

✦

You’re not giggling when you enter the open foyer, locking the door behind you, and spot a figure in the living room, splayed out on the large L-shaped sofa.

No, you’re not even thinking about the boys anymore, just the dilemma laid out before you as you press your lips together in a thin line and turn your feet into feathers to begin making your way through.

God’s hand must be over your life though, because upon closer, very furtive inspection, tiptoeing towards the archway, he’s…

Asleep.

You let out a soundless sigh of relief at that, shoulders slumping.

…And you should take the opportunity- glad it’s even come to you- and go, you know. It’s as good a moment as any to slip off, undetected, and retreat into the privacy of your bedroom.

It’s all but waiting for you.

What you told the twins was as much of a truth as it was a good excuse— you’re tired and it’s encroaching on that time where you want to plop into bed and curl up under the covers.

Not because it’s past your curfew or anything, no- honestly, you usually have a penchant to stay up late- but because you’re still a little jet-lagged from the flight and you’d prefer to sleep instead of loaf the evening through with the unwanted company of whatever thoughts that might creep in.

You’re not… incredibly close with Sylus. Unbidden feelings of safety and peace in his presence nudged aside, you’re not chummy with the guy and you really have no reason to stick around especially when you’re growing tired but—

Approaching the archway, you slowly reach a hand to rest on it, and you watch.

A half-touched mug of coffee sits on the table before the couch. Strewn beside it is his laptop, mousepad and mouse, and one of those yellow, lined notebooks that you quirk a brow at only because it’s deceptively cheap for a man so expensive.

It’s closer to something your own father- your real, now deceased one- would use to mark out measurements for his woodworking projects, or keep on the fridge under a magnet as a note to himself.

…Huh.

A mite amused by the sight of your generally very awake, proactive stepfather, you fight off a grudging smile- all too entertained by the languid display- and rest your shoulder against the wall.

Dim, golden lights fall over him in a gentle haze, but the shadow cut by his bumped nose is sharp.

You know they’re not related, Sylus and his unruly sons. The twins are splitting images of each other, but they mirror nothing of Sylus’s face— so when you heard the casual murmurs between him and your mother behind closed doors one evening about their ‘adoption’ long ago, you shouldn’t have been surprised. Yet you were.

For as much as you disliked him, it was never because he was a bad father.

The opposite, if you’re completely honest.

He’s always been good to the boys. Nothing short of nurturing (in his own indirect way, of course), paternal, and teacherly. Offering a hand of guidance where it was needed but never ironlike or suffocating with how he used it. If anything, he was even a smidgen lax with them- which you’d quietly admire but only in absolute secret.

Every parent has their faults, that’s a given.

Sylus had very little.

A head full of silver (and some grey, albeit it’s hard to notice his age just because he handles it so gracefully, so boldly) tipped against the back of the couch with an arm resting on the side of it- the shaggy throw blanket on his lap with the wintry chill kept in mind— he’s more than just peaceful. He’s…

Domestic. Relaxed.

This is his territory, you’re reminded again.

You’re just passing through it.

A five o’clock shadow dots the slant of his jaw. His lashes don’t even flutter in his sleep; you reckon he’s deep into it. A pen hangs between his fingers, limp.

Interest dashes through you as you quietly observe him.

You’re not… spying, per se, it’s just- You’re just curious, alright? And to be fair, he wouldn’t have any right to call you out on your observation even if he wanted to, because the number of times you’ve felt and ignored his patient, hopeful, or outright (for whatever reason) amazed stare is too high to be logged.

A pair of glasses rests on the tip of his nose, sloping off. There’s no way to tell just when he got home, but it’s obvious he had been hard at work with something on his computer.

Humming thoughtfully, you pull your gaze away before sluggishly pushing off the threshold.

You shake your head at yourself, readjusting your bag as you find the trace of humor in your desultory actions. Why you let your curiosity get the better of you, you don’t know. It’s very possible at this point that something’s possessed you. Either that, or your cold, guarded heart is thawing out at rates National Geographic needs to get an angle on ASAP.

In any case- you really ought to head up for bed now.

Quiet as a mouse, careful lest you wake and alert him to your presence, you pad behind the couch and across the width of the massive living room to the just as opulent stairs.

You look up to them—

Looming. Dark.

In your mind’s eye, so unrealistically steep- so dangerous—

Breath suddenly hitching, you glance down to your feet, planted firmly beneath you- unmoving- and remind yourself of good things. Other, things.

Puppies. Kittens. Rainbows with pots of gold waiting at the other end with leprechauns to greedily guard them- varying flights of fancy.

Awfully enough, in all your attempts to distract and soothe yourself, four portraits pop up into your brain and three of them belong to none other than your stepfamily.

You want to be callous. But it’s not working this time around.

This wound of yours that your mother’s death left behind is too open, too fleshy, for you to pretend that your skin is so hardened.

Reopening your eyes, you swallow down the bad gut feeling that twists like a knife- the inexplicable unease disappearing as quickly as it came- and reach a hand for the railing.

Bed. Bed. Clearly, you need the rest—

“Kitten?”

A groggy voice. That, and a shuffle.

You flip around.

You’re too shocked to even remember you’re meant to dislike him, hand flying over your heart in a trice. “Y-Yeah?”

Your stepfather, looking sideward over the couch at you, blinks away sleep casually.

Oh, God. It’s just him…

“Oh,” he mumbles, “Sorry, Sweetie. I didn’t mean to scare you…” lazily tossing a glance to the unoccupied space around him, even the banister overhead; checking for something, you realize as your heart slowly takes its foot out from your throat.

You sigh out, visibly deflating.

You think you see his gaze drop to the bag in your hand, giving you a once-over, but his ruby eyes are catching the light in a way that makes it near impossible to discern. You can only tell he’s looking at you because he’s facing you.

“Where’s the boys? You left with them, didn’t you?”

Your lashes bounce against your cheekbone, rapid as you collect your bearings. “Oh, they…”

His tone gets a little stern, then, his eyes a little clearer now as he dips his chin and quirks a searching brow. Incredulous, very. “Is… everything alright? They behaved themselves, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, no- the boys were fine,” you shake your head, rubbing nothing from your eye. Fatigue, maybe, as it drapes itself over you. It takes a second for you to remember the events that led you here before opening your mouth to speak on them. “Um, they just wanted to get a snack and I wanted to be dropped off, so…”

He takes a moment to ponder that.

Unconvinced, “But everything went well?” His attention skims over you hastily. You see that, now. The intense glitter in his eye, wholly transfixed, as the dregs of his slumber wear off- however, the gravel in his voice is more stubborn to go.

He sighs, long-suffering. “You can tell me. I won’t let them know it was you.”

You struggle to imagine how that would go, but shake your head in the next moment anyway.

“Really, it was fine. Everything went well.”

“Good.” He hums, then, seemingly satisfied.

He pores over you, curious all over again as a tiny bunch forms between his brow, wrinkling it slightly. “You’re… heading up for the night now, I guess?”

Oh, yes actually, you think to yourself in time with his reminding you of it- but you go to reply and hold off on it when he glances down at what you correctly assume to be his wristwatch, pausing thoughtfully.

“Oh, my. It’s gotten pretty late out now,” he drawls. “Hm. I must’ve drifted off while I was waiting for-”

You quirk a brow. “Ah. Waiting for this spreadsheet to get interesting,” he smoothly chuckles, looking at the screen of his computer and the low battery sign that pops up as a window on it.

Before you can think to respond- “Goodnight then, Kitten,” he lilts as high as his sleep-addled voice will allow, “I’ll see you in the morning. Should I,” a pause again, “wake you for breakfast?”

You swallow, momentarily glancing at the top landing of the stairs. “No thanks.”

“Are you sure?” He breathes.

Persistence is needed in business, you know that; it’s why you don’t hold it against him when his first instinct is to push rather than pull away. His realm is different than yours. And anyway, he’s just being polite— playing the part of the concerned, doting, yet nonetheless hesitant stepfather who is terribly uncertain with how to best handle his grouchy stepdaughter. He does it well.

“You’re not afraid of missing out?”

You offer a mildly amused huff, choosing to indulge him just this once- just for these two weeks. “On my sleep, maybe.”

He chuckles. It’s a full and rich sound. There’ll come a day where Luke and Kieran will coax more of the same out of him, and you’ll give them genuine, congratulatory claps on the back each for the achievement.

For now, though, that feat is yours and yours alone. Not that you’re… exactly proud of it.

“Alright, alright, I get the hint, little miss night owl… I won’t disturb you tomorrow. You have my word.” He smirks just barely. Just safe enough.

“Sleep tight, Sweetie.”

The ice is melting between you both, yes- a phenomenon you both curiously, warily observe— but he will watch his step.

You set your foot on the first stair, “T-Thanks. You too.”

…As will you.

tags: @leftpoetrymoon @valhalla-soulstealer @gingybimby @crowsandapples @novthirty @mcdepressed290 @jadeloverxd @satansdaughter123 @blitziwitch @luminaaaz @eialovescats @noliniodeaes @dramaticalsachan @loudhologramturtle @softiepeachess @reni502 @datfangirl @lilyalone @thatsbunnysmind @lioria @floooring @babyx91 @rosie279 @calistaxoxo24 @kingheinrey @msturi2u @theplaid-wearingmoose @blueseachelle @themonotonysyndrome @crazyartist0001-blog @librarydame @deathlycrow @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj ✦ ask to be added to taglist! please just have an age in ur bio (17+) ✨likes & reblogs are super appreciated my friends🫰thank u again for the support thus far!! C:

read part 3 here

[thegeminisage]

now that we're almost halfway through tng (we're at the start of s4, so...close enough) i feel like it's time to do an updated ranking of tng characters favorite to least favorite. here is the previous ranking. this time it will be much harder.

data - this will never change, ever. he gets the most interesting episodes. he is the most interesting premise. he is the the man the myth the legend the moment. he is autistic. he is not less perfect than lore

wesley - i don't want to talk about it

tasha - GIRL I MISS YOU SO BAD COME BACK FOR MORE THAN ONE EPISODE. don't kiss any boys

worf and riker tie - this is going to sound crazy but worf reminds me so much of spock sometimes. because they both struggle to find their place in the world but they do find it on board the enterprise. i like howmad he gets and his strict code of ethics. also, i think what he did on the klingon planet is fucking crazy. i hope they come back to it someday

as for riker: poker king. down to clown. cool with deanna's hookups. how can u not love him. i wish he did more outrageous stuff it's like the best thing about him and they never utilize it. he and worf (e deanna) should kiss

guinan - we like basically never see her and know nothing about her but it's always really exciting when she's there. it's like oh we got guinan this ep! always something to look forward to.

beverly - in a shocking twist i've decided that beverly is currently my favorite alive woman cast regular. this was a contentious decision which may have been influenced by having very recently watched a beverly ep but here's the thing. when they give her a half-decent script she's fucking amazing. when they let her do stuff besides Be A Mom. like she's so brave at times, in a different way than bones was brave - she's afraid of dying in a way that he isn't, but she'll still put herself in danger to help others anyway. actually i've finally mostly stopped mentally comparing her to bones, an honor which pulaski never got. unfortunately we almost never get the Great version of beverly

deanna and geordi tie - i'm sorry women. deanna dropped several rankings because what made her so special to me (yelling at her horrible mother) was immediately backtracked like it didn't matter in the following episodes with her horrible mother. i still feel deep sympathy and solidarity, and also deep gayness, but most of the time when we get Deanna Episodes(tm) they're about her shitty mom being shitty or about some guy sexually harassing her and it's very sad. like i love deanna. this bums me out. please treat her eally niceys

as for geordi, they simply have given him no screentime to do anything cool. i think there's been a total of three really good geordi moments since my last post like this. he's cool but they just never do anything with him. also, i don't like whatever he had going on with that holodeck girlfriend

picard - well SOMEBODY had to be last. i definitely don't actively dislike him anymore, and in fact he has quite a few good moments, he just doesn't make me insane in the brain the way (for example) data or spock does.

look forward to another ranking in like season 7 probably.

[archieism]

I personally think the reason Archie's character is so appealing to analyze is that, despite being under-developed, hes such a genuinely charming character with a lot of potential. Like he has the makings to be the stereotypical "jock boyfriend" character but instead the show has built up enough evidence that he's a funny, talented, sweet guy, with depth that gives him the potential to be relatable to a lot of different people and make him a great chara. At least thats my opinion

big agree big agree like archie doesn’t really present as a super in depth character, but depth IS there if you honestly wanna dissect it past face value. i’m a firm believer some of his storyarcs are the most compelling of the entire show if you look for it. they usually strike the perfect balance of inner conflict reflected in a constant outer one as well, and it parallels the entire town at times, but they’re usually always cohesive with one another. 

in season one, his struggle between football and construction and music can clearly physically represent his struggle between the archie we honestly never got to see but know was there based on how in literally episode one, fred mentions that a mere three months previous, archie was gung ho for inheriting the company, as well as taking into account jughead’s remarks of the kind of person archie used to be, and the archie that apparently isn’t anymore. and it all stemmed from what happened that summer, whether it be mrs grundy butting into his life or jason blossom’s disappearance, it’s the summer the corruption seemed to first trickle in. same with his struggle with relationships, romantic and platonic (starting off with mrs grundy unfortunately, but jughead too, and betty, veronica, reggie, valerie, even cheryl) littered throughout all of the first season. both his struggle between hobbies and his struggles with people can easily parallel the state of the town as well!! the whole point of season one and the beginning of season two at least was that the town was turning a new leaf, though obviously in a negative way. things were changing and the perfect small town appeal was losing purchase to the town where fathers killed their own sons, but it was an ongoing struggle to be better, one that leads to betty’s speech at the jubilee in the finale. yet structurally, archie’s pretty early on established as a support character. he wants to help his friends, but feels like he can’t. he wants to do the right thing, but feels like he can’t. yet despite all his shortcomings, he’s the kind of person that represents the good parts of riverdale, whether it be in the quaint desire to simply write songs and sing them, or to give jughead a place to live, or help veronica as she struggles with her father’s looming shadow, or cheryl, throughout but especially in the finale too, when he breaks his own hand to save her life.

and season two !!! fucks me up !! after betty’s speech at the jubilee, declaring the town needed to step up before the corruption won, a masked man shoots archie’s dad right in front of him in the diner that’s pretty consistently a beacon of the perfect small town appeal. and just like that, the small town boy who so easily represented the little things that make up a good person, a good town, the little gestures of just trying to look out for each other, has his entire world shattered right in front of him by the town’s corruption finally spilling over. and he becomes this shell of himself, one that’s trigger happy and violent and gung ho for a private prison and mob boss family, subverting his representation of all the good parts of riverdale to all the bad ones, BUT !!! it’s ironically because of the corruption of riverdale that archie becomes this way; because he believes the town is too corrupted for simply housing a homeless kid, helping a friend, breaking his hand to save someone’s life, to undo it all. because the person who believed that couldn’t stop his own dad from being shot right beside him when he was right there to step in, so it’s clearly not enough, not anymore. he’s not enough, so he needs red circles and dark circles and mob bosses and handguns because those are the only things that are stopping people from shooting dads in diners. except they’re not !!! because then his dad gets shot right in front of him again anyway in the finale, despite thinking all his actions since the first time around, all his preparing, all this changing from the kid who let it happen in the first place, could prevent it, but it happens again just the same, and he’s just as powerless to stop it. but even before that punchline, you have his dad, the person he’s corrupting himself for !! parading for the exact opposite of the corruption and external conflict’s side archie’s taken, subverting the entire inner conflict BEAUTIFULLY !!!! HELLLOOO$?@@> archie’s dad becomes the pinnacle of everything good in riverdale while archie ironically sides AGAINST him with hiram (the physical representation of riverdale’s corruption along with the black hood, despite presenting itself as the solution to it) BECAUSE the corruption was enough to almost steal that from them all with a simple bullet to the chest. he lost faith goodness alone could mean anything when it couldn’t save his dad, the epitome of good in his mind and honestly most of riverdale's too, even those who didn’t agree with him politically. he started to believe power is the only thing that could stop the corruption, because that’s what he felt like he was lacking when it almost killed his dad. and, you guessed it, the thing that finally has archie backing away from all his moral bungee jumping is hiram coming between him and his dad !!!!!!!!HEELEOO

ANYWAYS i could go on because season three fucks me up too but this got REALLY long really fast i’m so sorry omg i rly just

listen riverdale’s writing is shit and i do not have any faith that they even did all of this intentionally but there is SOME legitimately good writing hidden in all the bullshit and it CONSISTENTLY follows archie, and everything above is just from a story crafting perspective!! not including the less structurally important but still thematically consistent struggles throughout!!! no i will not be taking criticism 

[svgarpills]

Hey so I really like your work and I was wondering if you could do some fluff hcs for Marcy x reader from Amphibia?if not it’s completely ok✨

ofc! I've been meaning to attempt some stuff like this so i hope i do ok for u anon AJSDFH

Marcy HCS (fluff/gn!reader)

Also included some calamity trio friendship stuff. Probably best read as pre/non-amphibia au

__

*She plays video games with you! She's okay with any type as long as you're having fun. If you want to try something new she helps you learn the controls and find hidden secrets and easter eggs.

*If you like the same shows/animes as her, she's going to give you her entire list of personal headcanons and her favorite AUs and fanfiction tropes. She also likes analyzing characters that she relates to and finding ones that remind her of you. (probably has a kinlist /hj)

*I think she'd be nervous & flustered, but also very sweet. She rambles a lot and somehow becomes even more clumsy when she's around you. One time she tried to flirt with you and fell down an entire flight of stairs.

*You should probably carry bandages. Like...a lot. She likes the ones with cartoon characters on them.

*She rambles about you to Sasha and Anne, and talks about Sasha and Anne when she's with you. Its sort of weird when you meet for the first time and they already know so much about you, but all of you become decent friends (much to Marcy's relief. You're all very important to her)

*She's a bit awkward at first when it comes to physical contact, but she quickly warms up to the idea and gives you really good hugs. She also likes leaning against you when you're watching shows or playing games together.

*She has a hard time talking about things that are bothering her and tends to try to distract herself or go to extremes to fix the problem instead (like she did w/ the music box). It takes a while for her to fully be able to open up to you about her issues.

*She's good at remembering your favorite things as well. If you mention what your favorite flavor of something is, or say that you have something like a favorite band or Pokemon, then she tends to keep that in mind when she's buying something for you.

*She can be a bit forgetful otherwise, though. She tends to get distracted and not answer her phone, especially if she's playing a new game. Don't be too offended if she leads your messages unread, it's usually not on purpose.

*Her parents are somewhat distant, so she likes hanging out with you at other places. She often invites you to the park, or a boba place down the street, or a new ice cream shop that opened up. If you have good parents she also enjoys spending time at your house with them.

*Your dates are relaxed and usually casual, but she does try her best if it's a big event or she wants to do something special for you. She usually gets Sasha's help.

*If you're around when they have their band together, then she gets really excited if you stay to listen to them perform. She asks you how it was at least 10 times once they finish.

*She likes shirts with stupid puns on them. Don't be suprised if she ends up buying two shirts with nerdy jokes on them so you can both match.

__

Ok! I hope all of the research (put very loosely) i've been doing has resulted in halfway decent headcanons for u.

[plaidbooks]

Hey 🥰 could I request working with Sonny and you two used to date but broke up, you remained friends but never really got over each other and your end up going through a pretty bad time with work or personal stuff and you’re struggling mentally and not eating etc and when he realises he comes over to your place to check ur ok and you just breakdown and he tells u he still loves u and that it’ll always be u 🥺

Some Space

A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long! I was so burnt out of writing, but I'm here now! I hope that this makes up for the wait!

This takes place before Sonny joins SVU--and his timeline is a little wonky to make this fic work, but oh well.

Tags: death, shootings, blood, disassociation

Words: 2590

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31 @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell

“So, do you wanna move in together?” Sonny asked while you cuddled on his couch. You turned to look at him, and his face fell as he saw your expression. “…you don’t?”

You sighed. “It’s not like I don’t love you, Sonny, because I do. It’s just…I mean, we’re still in our mid-20s. I want a little more, uh, freedom before I settle down, you know?”

“I’ve known since we started dating in high school that I was in for the long term. I was thinking of maybe…I don’t know, getting married…having kids…. Now that we’ve settled into patrol, I thought it would be the perfect time to take the next step,” he muttered.

You sat in silence, debating. You loved Sonny, and you did want to marry him…someday. Not right now. You’ve barely lived any of your life; hell, you lived at home still. Sonny had his own apartment, but you didn’t want to go from living with your parents to living with him. You wanted space, time to figure out who you really were. And you didn’t think you could do that with Sonny. If he couldn’t give you your independence, if you both wanted different things, then you were going to have to break up with him, as much as it would break your heart to do it.

“Listen, Sonny, I need to live my own life for a little bit, discover myself. I-it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise—”

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked softly.

Hearing the words out loud made tears form in your eyes. “I…yes, I guess I am. At least until I find myself…. I’m so sorry, Sonny. I’ll always care about you. We can still be friends?”

“Y-yeah…okay, sure. I…yeah…” he trailed off, unwrapping his arms from around you. You both sat there awkwardly, and the tension was thick. You stood, moving to grab your jacket, and Sonny followed you to the front door.

“This isn’t…goodbye. I promise you, Sonny Carisi. It’s just—”

“See you later?” he finished.

You gave him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

*****************************

That was months ago now, and you had transferred out of Staten Island patrol, unable to see Sonny every day, those big, sad blue eyes trying to avoid your gaze. Now, you worked for Brooklyn, an officer in their Homicide department. You settled in quickly, and you found a cheap-ish apartment in Brooklyn.

It was nice living by yourself, and you highly enjoyed it. You missed Sonny dearly, but you thought it was too soon to reach out. Your heart still strained when you thought about the breakup, so you kept your distance. But it was getting easier and easier to let those feelings fade away in your new line of work. Brooklyn Homicide was a lot busier than Staten patrol, and you got along great with your partner, Drew Zimmer.

“We keep making these busts, and we’re gonna make detective in no time,” Drew said, grinning at you.

You smiled back as you shoved a cuffed perp in the backseat of your squad car. “Then we get paid halfway decently for doing much of the same as we are now.”

“Plus, normal clothes! Not this suffocating police uniform.”

You agreed, then moved to the front seat, Drew sliding in behind the steering wheel. You and Drew were close, but you never crossed a line. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart, something that made you slightly sad. Sonny was your high school sweetheart, and you wondered how different your life would’ve been if you moved in with him.

*************************

As Drew predicted, you both made detective later that year. You were officially the youngest detective, having moved up the ranks so quickly. You both went out for drinks to celebrate, and you had the wild impulse to invite Sonny. It had been almost a year since you broke up, and you could finally think about it without tearing up. But would he be okay with it? You fought the idea, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Everything okay?” Drew asked, seeing the look on your face.

You shot him a fake smile. “Fine, fine. Just…thinking. Don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a hard, knowing look, as if he could read your mind. You had told him about Sonny, but you didn’t want to bring the celebration down. Instead, you took your glass and cheers him before taking a sip.

You jumped when your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Your Captain’s name flashed across the screen, and you answered with a brisk voice. Drew watched and listened, then sighed when you said that you were both on your way.

“What do we got?” he asked, putting money on the table and standing.

You pulled your jacket on, heading for the door. “Body found in Prospect Heights. You okay to drive?”

“Sober as a fox.”

*************************

You both showed up quickly, seeing the officers who called in the body. Drew parked, and you made your way over. One of the officers started walking you both through the details when a gunshot rang out from down the alley that the body was in. Instinct took over as you hid behind a wall of the building, grabbing the closest officer to you and pulling them with you. Gunshots echoed in the alleyway as someone—or someones—unloaded on the entrance to the alley.

Drew was on the other side of the alleyway, and one of the officers was flat on their back, blood leaking from a bullet hole in their head. You ordered the officer next to you to call for backup, then waited until the gunfire stopped. Taking a chance, you snuck a quick peak. There were three individuals at the end of the alley, making their way quickly towards you.

You motioned to Drew, letting him know, before you reached your hand around the corner, firing blindly in an attempt to at least slow their advance. With the cover fire, Drew came halfway around the wall, actually aiming his gun as he fired.

“You got one of them,” he informed you. He got a few shots off before a bullet went through his neck, knocking him off his feet.

“Drew!” you screamed before whipping around the wall, shooting with deadly precision. There was only one man still standing—Drew must’ve got one before going down—and you shot him quickly. Then you dropped to your knees by Drew’s rasping form. You ripped off your jacket, pressing it to the bloody wound.

“Stay with me Drew, do you hear me? You have a fiancée to go home to,” you ordered, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Call a bus!” you yelled at the officer, who was staring in shock.

Drew reached up, grabbing your wrist. “T-tell Steph I—I love her…please,” he gasped, voice weak.

“You’re going to tell her yourself when you see her, okay?” you said, trying to smile at him.

He shook his head. “Tell her…please. I-I—” Drew let out a death rattle before laying still.

“No! No! Live, damn you! You can’t die on me, Drew! W-we’re partners!” you screamed. But he was gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned over him.

Time meant nothing as you knelt there. You had no idea when the ambulance arrived, nor when your Captain showed up. You’re not sure who moved you away from Drew’s lifeless body, and you didn’t notice how you ended up at the hospital. You were still covered in Drew’s blood as the nurses ran tests, making sure you were uninjured. Your Captain ordered you to take time off, and you didn’t hear him, didn’t argue. You blinked and you were home, sitting on your couch, a bottle of whiskey in front of you.

***************************

IAB had been delayed by your Captain, but eventually, you had to face them. You couldn’t recall what they asked, or what you answered. The first emotion you felt in days was fleeting anger; the body that you had been called to investigate was left as bait. The men who shot at you, who killed your partner and an officer, were part of a gang, attempting to become cop killers. It was all a ruse to kill whichever cops arrived on the scene. Drew, one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ve known, was killed for street cred. But your anger soon disappeared, just like everything else.

***************************

It had been a week since Drew died in your arms. You visited his fiancée—she had already been informed of her love’s death—but you had to see her, pass on his final words. You held her as she cried, but you had no tears left. You felt nothing; you were just a shell. You stopped eating, stopped showering, stopped drinking, even water. You stopped sleeping; you just passed out nowadays, at any and all times of the day, wherever you happened to be laying. Your Captain called you a few times, trying to get you into therapy, but you never left your apartment.

One night, there was a knock on your door. You moved on phantom feet, unlocking and pulling your door open. You felt a dull punch to the gut as Sonny stood on your doorstep.

“H-hey doll…. I heard about your partner, and I thought I’d check up on you,” he said softly.

You nodded, not even attempting to fake a smile. “I’m fine,” you said in a monotone voice, ready to close the door on him. But Sonny was quicker.

“No, you’re not.” And with that, he pushed into your home. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? Washed? Brushed your teeth? Anything?”

You had no answer for him, and he quickly went to your kitchen, pulling open your fridge. Normally, you’d follow him, but instead, you went and collapsed on your couch, your legs unable to hold you up anymore.

Sonny came out with a glass of water. “Drink that,” he ordered, then stood there until you did. “Most of your food has gone bad; I’m going to run to the store. While I’m gone, I want you to shower, okay?”

You didn’t nod, made no indication that you had heard him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating seeing you like this.

“Okay…if you can shower, please do. Otherwise, just at least…drink another glass of water, okay?” He took the glass from your hand, refilled it, then came back and handed it to you. “I’ll be right back.”

You were unsure for how long he was gone; you dimly heard him come back. Sonny went to your kitchen with full grocery bags, and soon, the sounds and smells of cooking emanated from within. He came out soon after—or maybe it was longer, who knows?—with a plate of food.

When he noticed the full glass of water in your hand still, he shook his head, then sat next to you. You didn’t fight him as he fed you small bites, nor as he raised the glass of water to your lips. You tasted nothing as you ate half the plate. Sonny was afraid to make you sick with too much food at once, so he put the rest back in the kitchen. Then, he pulled you to the bathroom. He undressed you, then himself, before guiding you into the shower. The hot water brought you partly to your senses, just enough to feel Sonny’s hands washing your hair and body.

“You may have to get your hair cut short—it’s pretty damaged from lack of care,” he muttered, trying to work the knots out with his fingers. You nodded gently, letting him care for you. Once done, he wrapped you in a towel, patting you dry. Then, he took your toothbrush and put paste on it before handing it to you, lifting your hand to your mouth.

“Brush,” he softly ordered, and you did.

After finishing up in the bathroom, Sonny tugged you to your room, where he dressed you in your pajamas. Then he pushed you down into the bed.

“Sleep, okay? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.

You laid on the pillow, and fresh tears came to your eyes. “He died in my arms,” you muttered.

Sonny’s expression softened. “I heard, doll. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Just rest now.”

As promised, he sat next to you until you drifted off, your hand in his.

*******************************

Sonny practically moved in with you after that, just until you could take care of yourself. He took you to a therapist, and a hair salon. He made you meals and made sure you drank water. At first, he would shower with you and made sure you brushed your teeth; those were the two things you started doing yourself the quickest. It took you a few weeks to break out of the shock-induced disassociation you were experiencing. Eventually, you started helping Sonny cook in your kitchen, and doing small chores around your apartment.

“Thank you, Sonny, for everything,” you said one night while you were eating dinner.

He smiled at you. “Of course, doll. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too. I—I should’ve called you earlier. I was just afraid that it was too soon.”

His smile faltered slightly. “I understand. I…it’s probably still too soon….”

“What do you mean?”

Sonny put his fork down, looking everywhere but at you. “Look, I’ve…I thought that enough time had passed, especially when I heard about your partner—” you flinched at the mention of Drew— “but when you opened the door and I saw how much it affected you, I realized that…I still love you, have always loved you. You were literally wasting away, and I couldn’t stand by and watch.”

You froze, not in shock at him, but at yourself. Because hearing the words out loud, you knew that you loved him, too.

“I’m sorry; you don’t need this right now. The last thing you need on your mind is—”

“I love you, too, Sonny. God, I love you so much,” you replied, throwing your arms around him, and leaning against his side.

He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around your back. “Are ya sure? You’re going through some pretty traumatic stuff right now. Your emotions going a little haywire.”

“I’m sure. I-I was afraid to call you because I couldn’t handle seeing you. Because I never got over you.”

Sonny nodded. “I never got over you, either. Look, if you still want your space, I can live with that, as long as I don’t lose you again. I never want to lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either. I love you; I want to marry you one day. Let’s just…see how it goes, okay? I’ve learned a lot just in the year we’ve been apart—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. He felt so familiar, so much like home, and you realized how much you had really missed him. You kissed him back, holding him to you. He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing over yours.

“We’ll figure out the details later. Right now, I just want to get to know you again,” he breathed.

You nodded. “Please, yes. I want to remember you, Dominick.”

He pulled you closer, promising his whole self to you in a searing kiss.

[whaleofatjme1920]

HEY B GIMMIE THAT SWEET SWEET RIVAL MATCHUP U ALREADY KNO

You already know who this is but ill still give u a hot rundown: My names Ally, im 20 years old 5’7’’ and a Leo/year of the dragon/INFP. She/They pronouns and im Pansexual but i dont think that matters much in this situation >:P. Appearance wise i have shoulder length curly red hair and green/grey eyes, suuuuper pale skin and freckles. Im def an ambivert, very protective of people who mean alot to me and kind of sharp tempered, especially when people start talking about shit they dont know anything about. Im also a pretty big perfectionist and people pleaser and will beat the FUCK outta myself if i feel like i let people down or made people upset when i could have helped it. But thats all about me, heres those wacky questions!

- Stated before, but im an August Leo! I would say my aura would probably be a pinkish/ purple color? For dislikes i def dont like bitter foods, being too hot, rumors, people talking behind my back, ppl who act like they know what theyre talking about, ppl cutting me off when i lose my train of thought, conservatives, not caring about climate change/the planet in general, tight or restrictive clothes, not having enough time in the day, capitalism, ect. Honestly the most off the wall thing for me that would make me throw hands on sight would probably be someone saying some shit about my close friends behind their back to me.

- Once when I was 14 me and about 10 other people squeezed into a mini van at about 3am and drove around the town, not a single one of us had a license or were over the age of 16, and we were all ridiculously drunk and high the entire time (except the driver. we were underage, not stupid). After driving halfway across the island we got pulled over by cop on the interstate, and he walked up to the car, looked at the driver, then into the passenger seat and saw literally 10 KIDS OBVIOUSLY DRINKING and the car absolutely reeked of bud, then looked back at the driver and simply told him “Your tail light is out. Get home safe” and drove away. Ive never seen god faster than that moment LMAO

- I could never willingly fight a raccoon, youre sick for suggesting that >:/ They are precious boys and ive saved too many from drowning in my pool for me to lay a finger on one. And as for dealbreakers? My biggest one in a relationship is cheating, but thats pretty basic LMAO. I would also say one that’s definitely second in rank would be expecting someone to stay the same through out the relationship and getting upset when the person changes. We are human beings and developing and growing, if you dont support me in that nothing is going to work. I explained a bunch of things i dislike in people above, but ill also add in here people who hurt animals in any way/ litter for no reason. If one of my friends throws a piece of trash out of my car im slammin on the brakes and youre getting out and picking it up. And god forBID you touch an animal around me il doing whatever you did to it to yourself no hesitation.

- I would hate being stuck in a room with anyone, i have decently bad claustrophobia and if we were in there for more than a day i would start bugging out LOL But probably the worst type of person would be someone who just doesn’t shut up and trys to act like they know everything. Those are like, the most insufferable people to me. ESPECIALLY if theyre wrong and refuse to admit it. Whenever i think of being locked in a room, somehow i always imagine like a dark navy blue room with one small window and completely empty floors and walls, everything made out of carpet. Dont ask me why, i have absolutely no clue.

my feed back is ily bitch gimmie a good one i wanna fight a bitch

Your enemy is… Eyeless Jack!

In general:

I told you this yesterday but I wasn’t expecting you to send this in and must've spent like 5 straight minutes wheezing reading this. My gut reaction was Jeff, but based on what you wrote about the room, I’m going to say your enemy is actually Eyeless Jack!

Things he doesn’t like about you and how he pisses you off:

EJ doesn’t like that you’re a Leo. I’m not elaborating on that. He’s such a cold, clinical, heartless bastard that everything you are just goes against whatever tf he actually believes and acts as. I feel like you being a perfectionist would just brush against his perfectionist tendencies and habits. He’d say everything you’re doing is wrong. Just a dick. EJ may or may not exploit your weaknesses but that’s just because he thinks it’s fun and doesn’t like you.

EJ is a god of knowing what he’s talking about and it leads to this cocky, know it all attitude. It’s gonna brush you the wrong way. He knows that and takes joy in it. He will always attempt to one up you in knowledge and grin when he sees you falter. On the other end, if you catch him off guard he’s gonna be SO MAD. He will purposely turn up the heat in your presence just to make you upset. He will breathe down your neck and get in your personal space just to make you more uncomfortable. EJ isn’t anywhere NEAR a conservative or a climate change denier but he will take those positions just to make you mad and laugh over your attempts at arguing with him. Like Jeff, he’s a huge devil’s advocate and will start shit just because he can. I don’t actually think he’d talk about your friends negatively in front of you though, but he would definitely say stuff about you to your face.

EJ thinks it’s stupid you drank underage and will poke that memory. He will use insults about alcohol and the brain despite drinking a ton himself. If you call him out on it, he will fold. Literally throw everything he says about you back at him and he will get puffy and fast. EJ can’t always handle change that well so like, he’s a stubborn guy. Despite how logical he can be and how smart he is, socially he is so uncouth!! EJ doesn’t litter so you don’t have to worry about that but he’s definitely gonna do things that push your buttons, mostly say things that put you off. He’s not claustrophobic. He will put you in situations like that just because he can. The dark navy blue of his mask is going to haunt you. EJ will act like a god in your presence and snarl when you dare question his abilities. CALL HIM OUT. HUMBLE HIM PLEASE.

He agrees on the raccoon thing ngl. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but EJ has such a soft spot for animals - mostly birds - but he can’t fault you for the raccoon thing. He's also not too fond of litter so he has to agree with you on that one too.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things:

Knowing you for as long as I have, I was so, so ready to actually put you with Jeff. However, the more I read into this the more my intuition screeched that you would actually throw hands with EJ and I find that HILARIOUS. Just the arguments between you and this tall, muscular demon man is just - “what? What? WHAT” It’s beautiful. I’m serious, Merida vs. a literal demon. That’s all. Ily. <3

[hargrove-mayfields]

so sorry im late asking this (i was waiting for you to get more, super surprised you didn’t get more asks tbh) but could I hear more about your wips “I have a crush on Barbara Holland” “baby fic” and “HOH Steve” also if it’s not too much “girlyfriends” and “cali house” and “medical emergency” ik ik that’s a lot but I’d honestly want hear about ALL of you wips in that list if i could. thank u in advance

It’s alright anon! I’ll accept these asks until I run out of WIPs to talk about!

I have a crush on Barbara Holland- This one is a soulmates au, where Steve has his soulmates initials, B.H., on his wrist, and he is whole heartedly convinced that that person is Barb. He’s very much in love with her, and there’s lots of talk about how pretty and nice she is (hence the title lol) but eventually she reveals that he isn’t her soulmate. Before she had hid the initials on her own wrist under a watch or a chunky bracelet, but she feels guilty, and shows Steve that her mark had long ago faded, because her soulmate passed away when they were in elementary school. Steve decides, despite how much value he used to hold in the whole soulmate thing, he doesn’t care about who some stupid mark says he should be with, so him and Barb date until her death. He’s heart broken, but the sadness very quickly turns into so much anger after Billy Hargrove, another B.H. rolls into town with a little S.H. on his wrist. He feels like the universe or whoever is even in charge of this soulmate bullshit is spiting him for thinking he could fall in love with someone he wasn’t destined to be with, so he rejects Billy for a long, long time, even after he himself figured it out that Steve is his match. When he does start to feel that way about Billy, he struggles with so much guilt and has to go through a very long grieving process to be comfortable with his feelings, because he’s not even sure if they’re his genuine feelings or the work of this soulmate bond. Very long and very angsty.

baby fic- Nancy gets pregnant that first time at the party with Tommy and Carol, and her and Steve try really really hard to make things work out for their baby, but it just isn’t meant to be. They make an arrangement that the Harringtons are very not pleased with, where Nancy has the baby at the Byers house half the time (because let’s be honest I think the Wheelers house is not really a safe place to be raising a baby) and Steve has her the rest of the time. Because it was like, a much more mature breakup without the cheating and the drunken confessions, they’re still pretty close friends. When the upside down starts making an appearance again, they have to try to figure out how to navigate it with this little four month old baby, and that means getting some help involved. Billy shows up at the Byers and instead of a fight, Steve’s all exhausted like oh good, you’re finally here, and gives him the worlds fastest run down of this monster fighting shit with a crying baby on his hip, and like, Billy just can’t say no to him asking him to go into the tunnels while he watches the baby. There is eventual Harringrove after a while, but it’s a slow burn for sure. This is also probably the least serious and least angsty thing I have ever started to write.

HOH Stevie- They’re all in the government hospital getting their post Starcourt once overs, Billy and El of course being rushed into surgery, and Steve’s about to get discharged when he gets addressed by name and just, does not respond at all. The doctor is like hmm, and checks his ears, and they find out he has almost no hearing in his left ear, and only about forty percent in the right. All that head trauma from the Russians and then all of the explosions of the fireworks, it leaves him deaf.

Everyone tries to be supportive, but his dad refuses to let him get hearing aids because he doesn’t believe he actually needs them (Steve’s a diagnosed hypochondriac) so for the next several months while his parents are still home waiting for their next trip, he’s struggling. He basically gets iced out by the party because he just can’t hear anything they’re saying, and the kids get tired of repeating themselves, and Nancy got insulted the one time he told her her voice is too quiet, and Robin wants to do things right for him, but she forgets sometimes, and will ramble on about something without looking at him and everytime he’s like great, I didn’t catch a single word of that, lovely talk though. It’s very frustrating and isolating and nobody seems to want to make accommodations for him.

The very same day that his parents leave for their latest vacation, he goes back to hospital. At first he just has to get more testing done, since it had been upwards of six months since the last time they saw him, and on his way out he notices Max in the waiting room chairs. He hadn’t seen much of her at all since Starcourt, so he checks on her, and at first she tells him to go away, because her friends have said some not so nice things about how much time she spends at the hospital, and assumes Steve is there to tell her Billy isn’t worth it too. Because that’s not the case, he ends up going in the room to visit Billy with her.

They do the small talk, the awkward, sorry about the fact that you’ve been in the hospital for six months now and nobody wants to come see you thing, and at some point Billy realizes that Steve can’t hear a damned thing he’s saying. He tests his theory by saying Steve’s name when he’s not looking and just waiting for him to answer but, surprise he doesn’t because he didn’t hear it at all, and Billy’s just like, you’re deaf aren’t you?

The progression of the fic is basically Steve coming to visit Billy everytime he has an appointment for his hearing (and more, but Bill doesn’t know that) but the day of his last appointment to make sure his hearing aids are functioning as well as they ever will for how bad off his hearing is, Billy’s acting different.

When he’d first walked into his room Billy had been surprisingly bright eyed and bushy-tailed for what he went through, but now he’s just acting all mopey. Max makes him tell Steve what’s wrong, and he confesses that he feels like he’s going to get left behind now that Steve’s all better, because then he has no real reason to visit him anymore. But Steve has one very good reason, and the rest of the story is him making sure Billy knows it.

girlyfriends- This’n’s sort of a non-canon compliant character study about aromantic! Billy, focusing on how awful and uncomfortable he felt with his past girlfriends, messing up dates and never going as far as they wanted him to, which at the time he pinned on liking boys instead, but then after he gets with Steve, he feels like this is different and he likes it, but he’s still not too big on all the lovey dovey, romance stuff. He rationalizes it as like, maybe just being a side effect of him being an asshole or something, but he‘s actually super insecure about how he is in relationships. There is a fluffy resolution though where he embraces his identity, it’s really not all doom and gloom, boo hoo I hate myself stuff.

cali house- Years after Starcourt, the boys have moved to a decent house in California using their government hush hush money, and they’re there for only about a month when Billy’s mother shows up at their door.

She says she caught wind that her son was back in town and wanted to come see him, after all this time. Billy of course lets her back in his life immediately, his mom meant so much to his recovery process and now that she’s here, he can’t turn her away, but Steve’s a little suspicious of her intentions.

He thinks that if she wanted to see Billy, she would’ve done that years ago before he ever even left Cali in the first place, or that you know, she wouldn’t have fucking left him behind. He tries to bring it up with Billy gently, but he won’t hear it, and he feels beyond hurt by the suggestion because he thinks Steve is just jealous that he’s spending time with his mother, who he hasn’t seen for upwards of fifteen years at this point.

They fight and avoid each other for a few days until Billy’s momma admits when he brings it up, over lunch or something saying like, “Steve thought you were using me or something, isn’t that crazy?” and she’s just like “Well, actually...”and tells him that money was tight, and she needed a little extra money, so Billy and his disability checks and his rich (boy)friend seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some.

He goes back home to Steve and expects him to be mad, to rub it in that he was right, but he’s really not, he’s super supportive, and you know, Billy finally realizes he doesn’t need to have this bullshit family thing with his mother, because he already has one, Max and Steve and his friends and all the people that actually care about him.

medical emergency (tw attempted suicide)-

Billy, who’s living on his own in an apartment downtown after Starcourt, deliberately doesn’t get his prescriptions refilled because he’s so done. He’s weak and he’s hurting and he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, and he just feels like he wouldn’t care if his body gave up, if he suffocated in his sleep or had another heart attack. So he doesn’t take care of himself, and when he runs out of oxygen he just doesn’t go get anymore, but he’s halfway to choking on his own blood when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

He calls Steve, because he’s not calling the cops and he can’t remember anyone’s numbers in his panic, but Steve’s is written on his calendar, scribbled there because they were supposed to make plans for something with the kids. Steve takes him to the hospital, having to fight him to put the CPAP on him to make sure his lungs didn’t collapse before they could get him to Hawkins General, and Billy’s just, so bone tired.

They do all their treatment stuff and get his body back under control, so Steve finally asks him what happened, if maybe he needed someone around to help him remember his meds and stuff, and Billy just, he breaks, like a dam overfilled he just pours out with all of this helplessness and sadness he’d been feeling, how he doesn’t want to live the way he does or at all anymore, and Steve’s heart just breaks for him.

He moves in with him, nobody’s willing to leave him alone after what happened, and Steve (along with Billy getting a new therapist because the old one was incompetent enough to not notice how bad off he was) helps him to realize he has something to live for.

[shadowsfascination]

Dreams

Hot. Moist. Sweat. It gushed off him while he twisted and turned under the sheets, barely awake and still under the spell of a teasing dream. A soft sound, in between a growl and a moan, managed to escape Shadow’s lips, even with his mouth as dry as a desert.

His eyes were half-lidded, continuously blinking at a rapid speed. He gasped, clasping his hands into the ball of fumbled sheets atop him as if longing to hold on to something. His sub-conscious mind started registering the stimulus of the cold on one of his legs that peeked out under the blanket. He tugged it back under the warm, somewhat clammy sheets and a inhaled with a series of grated breaths.

“Shit… This again?”

Shadow laid his head to rest on the pillow below him and stared at the ceiling in the dark. His spiky quills pressed into the cushion, the cool cotton fabric nicely fluffing against his skin. It wasn’t until recently that he noticed how everything seemed to be the same saturated colour in the dark.

Not until these dreams decided to wake me up at the same darn point every night.

He grunted. Not only did he want to fall asleep again, he yearned to dream on that one particular dream. Shadow wriggled once more, huddling in attempt to find a comfortable position to drift off again- fast. He shut his eyes and snuggled up to the pillow beside him in the bed. A muffled groan carried away from underneath it. He was already too awake, too aroused to glide back in his dream again.

Fuck!

The black hedgehog sat up straight in a bed that wasn’t his. Ever since Amy left town two days ago for her internship, he decided he’d sleep in hers, which he convinced himself was fine… She asked me to check in on her house sometimes and I know where her spare key is hidden. It’s not like I’m doing something wrong…

In the pockets of his black jacket was an unfinished joint and a lighter- almost empty, judging by its’ weight. He opened the window in her bedroom, lit the joint and inhaled the smoke. Shadow rested his elbows on the windowsill, picturing Amy’s reaction to him smoking this stuff inside her home. Undoubtedly she’d show that cute, irresistible, agitated blush spread across her cheeks.

It had been that particular look on her face that lit a romantic spark in him. He remembered scoffing himself for the very first time after tracing the slightest affection for her. She was his friend and it should’ve stayed like that. But it didn’t and he had a love-hate relationship with his feelings for her.

Part of him despised the lack of self-discipline that eventually allowed him to fall for her, but then again: who could not fall for Amy Rose?

The young woman was simply amazing; kind, brave, strong, gorgeous, honest and pure. Hanging out with her was never an obligation to him. Even if he acted indifferent in the past, it was a mere cover. He enjoyed being with her so much that the innocent one-sided crush he made himself believe it’d become, faded over time to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of… lovesickness? Lust?

Shadow had yet to come to terms with whatever stirred inside him- if he’d ever decide to stop lying to himself. He craved being with her, even if it was just as her friend. But friends didn’t look the way he looked at her, the way he saw her, the way his mind was toyed with by her.

And lately it had gotten much worse. A feeling of possessiveness grew inside him when she told him her plans for a yearlong internship overseas. Surely she’d meet new people, make new friends, go out and meet guys. Guys who’d eventually find an interest in her. Shadow feared he might lose his chance with her forever. And yet… he’d just let her go like it was no big deal, casually waving her off like Sonic had. Along with his sigh marihuana scented smoke escaped his lips.

He looked at his phone. Nothing. His inbox was unusually quiet after Amy briefly informed him she’d arrived at her destination. It made him restless and impatient.

“I can’t believe I’m just as stupid as that faker…”

That last part was what made it so ugly. Sonic had taken Amy for granted for over a decade. Shadow had gladly been her shoulder to cry on and often told her he couldn’t understand how poorly the blue blur treated her. And now he had sunk as low as his rival when what he really longed for was to make Amy his girl and walk beside her, showing her off, proud as a peacock.

He imagined pulling her into a passionate kiss, one that would weaken her knees, send shivers down her spine. One that made it loud and clear to everyone that she was his woman. Now that was a decent goodbye! He sighed once again. She should be his!

Shadow’s mind drifted off to the night before she left. Amy went home early from the farewell-party her friends had thrown her. She had excused herself by stating she wanted a good night of sleep before her journey the next day, but asked Shadow to hang out with her in the end. Just the two of them. He knew far too well she’d do that.

Something in the way she acted that night puzzled his mind. It had lit sparks of hope that she felt the same way about him. If he wasn’t mistaken, there’d been this tense atmosphere between them.

____________________________________

 “My turn! Shadow, can you hand me that?”

…

“Shadow?!”

Amy frantically gestured with her hands to make contact with a Shadow whose mind seemed to have drifted off. The introverted hedgehog got sucked into his own mind, quietly moping and pouting to himself in his thoughts about her departure.

Blinking when he finally noticed her, she was already so close to him that it startled him a little. Sucking off the tip of the joint he held between his fingers, he instantly stiffened up. Shaking a little as he watched her, he became helpless to the arousal from the image and the prickling heat that flushed through his body.

The girl looked up to him, colouring his cheeks in a deep red, her lips still enclosing the tip. He was quickly to shift his gaze away from her, feeling she’d see right through him if he stared at her any longer.

“Sorry. I was out of it for a bit.”

She didn’t take it from him. Instead Amy let out a muffled ‘U-huh’ and guided his hand to her lips again to have another pull of the joint. Without warning she tucked her arms behind him, pulling him into a hug and chuckled a delightful laughter.

“Cheer up! I’m gonna miss you too, you know?”

“Tsk, darn right, you will!”

Amy snorted at his silly reply and gave him a playful push.

“It’s the truth and you know it.”

Shadow raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, faking an arrogance that actually fit his personality quite well at times. Amy however saw straight through his act, aware that he found it difficult that she left. Despite everything they ended up being the best of friends and she was sure he’d feel lonely and bored without her.

“We can still catch up on the phone and stuff. It’s only for a year. It’ll be over before we know it. Besides, you’re gonna be busy too in the meantime. I’m so excited for you about the project you were tasked with. You always wanted to do this stuff, right?”

“Yeah, it’s something I’m looking forward to. I’ve always wanted to work with plants. I’ll get to investigate, plant and look after all these rare species the Central City’s botanical garden’s been given after the archaeologist department found this hidden, preserving millions of seeds.”

“A nice change of pace for you, after your last missions. Promise to show me around sometime when I’m back, okay?”

“Gladly.”

“Yay! Now… I need something sweet!” Amy said when a munchie kicked in. “But already I emptied my cabinets… Argh!”

“Wait here.”

Shadow jumped off the roof they sat on and walked up to his motorcycle. Amy watched him lift up the seat and grab something out the space hidden underneath it. He jumped up and pulled himself up on the gutter with two brown paper bags clenched between his teeth. A gleeful smile instantly spread across Amy’s face when she recognized the logo on them. He handed her one.

“I put another in your backpack for your trip tomorrow as well.”

“Aaah, you’re the best!”

Amy opened the bag and couldn’t fight the giddy, happy squeak that escaped her lips. All of her favourite candy from her #1 candy store in Spring Yard was in it, which wasn’t close to their hometown. Shadow must’ve gone out of his way to get this for her and he clearly put in some thought into picking out the confectionary in the paper bag. She happily stuffed her mouth with it and heard Shadow snicker beside her.

“You’re precious.” He chuckled at her.

“What? Oh! I probably look ridiculous.”

“I think it’s endearing.”

She quickly gulped it down and fake-shyly fidgeted, trying to compensate for what she thought was unladylike behaviour. In sudden confusion Amy scratched her quills. Since when did she care about that when she was with Shadow?

She then spotted Shadow unroll a liquorish-fruity roll, her absolute favourite. Tearing the paper bag as she searched for it in hers, her face soured, eye-lids dropping halfway down. She regretted she impulsively ate all the candy in three big bites.

“That’s what you get for eating them all at once.” Shadow said.

He shrugged and put the end of the now unrolled, spaghetti-like candy in his mouth with an amused expression. Amy turned around, bent over him and took a bite from the candy string, her grin turning as smug as his was before. Surprised by the pleasurable tension she experienced from being so close to him, she giggled her unease away.

There wasn’t much left of the candy string. To bite off that last piece, she practically had to kiss him. The thought spread a burning sensation through her chest. With Shadow’s heart jolting rapidly and the blood whizzing in his ears, he slowly sucked up the candy string into his mouth to see how she would react.

Don’t think too much of it. She’s just teasing me! Isn’t she? Shadow thought to himself.

Locking her jade eyes with his ruby ones, Amy leaned in a little closer. Shadow didn’t protest. Amy bit her lip for a second, but then enclosed her rosy lips around the other end of what was left of the short candy string.

He took in her flowery scent and felt her breath gently brush against his lips, their noses almost touching. His palms turned sweaty inside his gloves. Amy’s face was blazing, its’ heat radiating against his own.

He cupped his hands around her back ever so carefully, putting the smallest amount of pressure on them. Aghast and undecided Amy sat down on his lap, one hand on his chest, the other tracing the outlines of his lips.

Shadow decided to take the leap and leaned in a little closer to bite off the string when his phone loudly buzzed in his jacket, startling the hedgehogs. Amy squeaked and quickly slid off his lap, her face and ears coloured in a deep pink blush. Shadow awkwardly hid his face from her, grabbing his phone while he inaudibly cursed whoever ruined this moment for him.

Rouge: ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’

What the-? How’d she even-? If she’s been spying on us, she will not hear the end of it!

 _______________________________

 After Rouge interrupted them, things became weird. They said their awkward goodbyes like they’d see each other again the next day. But they didn’t because she left for her internship and he went to pick a fight with Rouge. The bat was genuinely concerned about him and what it’d do to him if he and Amy kissed and she’d leave the next day for a whole year.

Even when Rouge meant well, Shadow had yet to comprehend how she’d caught onto his secret feelings for Amy and felt violated in his privacy. On top of that she should have minded her own business.

He put his joint and lighter on the windowsill and snuggled up in Amy’s bed again. With his crimson eyes slowly closing, he concentrated in good hopes the fantasy would sprang from his mind and reignite his dream.

Come on, come on… I’m at the station, where are you? You should be here!

He whispered aloud while Dream-Shadow skated towards the pedestrian-bridge that crossed over the train tracks at high speed. He jumped up the stairs, his heart wildly pounding in his chest, hurrying him forward, pushing everyone aside who blocked his way. The strangers always delayed him in so many, annoying, different ways and every time he was left no choice but to jump off the bridge as a shortcut to get to the platform in time. Although a part of him feared, a part of him knew, he’d be too late -again. A sea of unknown, irrelevant others were standing in his way. Why is it always this crowded?

‘Move! Out of my way!’

The pod had done its’ job and Shadow drifted off into a deep sleep. His gaze locked on to something in the distance, the familiar shape of the one he was after.

‘Wait!’

He clenched his teeth and sped up, screaming to the strangers to make room for him, but his cries fell on deaf ears once more. The empty voices of everyone out here muted his screams before they could reach her.

‘No! Not again! Please! I must…!’

Shadow never seemed to get closer to the train he tried to reach before it’d fare away, even when he was skating towards it at full speed. It drained him, sending stinging pains to his sides, but he never got to it. Like his feet were glued to the ground. Soundless, hoarse, growling cries leaving his throat as the train departed and the crowd suddenly vanished, like it had never been there to begin with.

‘WAAAAIT! YOU HAVE TO WAAAAIT!’

He never mastered control over the rotten feeling, even when he knew it always ended the same way. The fact that he didn’t make it, didn’t reach her, never was fast enough… It was mortifying for him. He was the fucking ultimate lifeform and he didn’t deliver.

He pounded his fists into a brick wall and growled like a beast. His muscles trembled from the impact as he watched the train disappear into the distance. The thought of chasing it tempted him for a second. He let the thought pass on and slid down against the wall, scouring his back to the raw structure and sharp chunks of stone in it. He bled, but didn’t bother. Shadow’s chaos energy always healed him so fast that hardly anything was an actual threat to the ebony hedgehog.

He let his dream counterpart stroll over the platform of the train empty station. It somehow was always empty at this point in the dream. The sun stood low, casting soft beams of light in magnificent deep oranges, reds and yellows, painting long, dark shadows behind objects blocking its’ reach. Shadow sank down on a black, metal bench on platform 3-b, its’ many thin metal lines pressing into his skin. He rested his head on his hand, curling up to a ball.

‘I’m so stupid! So DARN stupid! I should never have let you leave like that!’ He cried. ‘And now you’re gone! ARGH!’

The powerlessness and anger inside the black male came crashing out of him when a chaos sphere ignited from his hands. It destroyed the tracks with a shrieking bang, curling up its’ irons.

‘I thought you were different, Shadow.’ crawled up a voice from behind him.

Dream-Amy’s voice scared him wide awake. His muscles soured, adrenaline rushing through his veins, his breathing irregular and his phone buzzing under the pillow. The disappointed tone in her voice hurt him badly. He seized the phone with trembling hands.

Amy!

Suddenly only seeing her name on the screen made him scared as never before, but also strangely excited at the same time. Nausea sprung in his middle.

Amy: ‘U awake?’

Shadow: ‘Yes.’

An incoming call from Amy popped up on his screen. He swiped it to the right to pick up.

“Why are you still up? Tomorrow’s your first day, right?”

“I went out with some people from the dorm.”

“O-kay... Did you- did you have a good time?”

“Sure did. In fact a really cute guy asked me out. We’re going out Friday night.”

All right. He knew what this was really about. She was trying to make him jealous, trying to make him feel bad about the way they parted. And it was a totally justified thing to do, but her act revealed to him that she wanted him to care. Shadow’s muscles relaxed again and a confident smile curved his lips.

“Is that so? Did you tell him you secretly have feelings for someone else?”

“I’m not in love with Sonic anymore!”

“Who said I was talking about Sonic?”

…

Shadow was unable to fight the amusing feeling inside him from how baffled she was all of the sudden.

“Well- I-! I can’t believe you just let me go like that!”

“I’m sorry.”

Amy shrieked with a high pitched voice when she heard the acoustics of his apology twice. She turned around, the phone still held against her ear to see him standing in her dorm room. In one hand he held a chaos emerald and his phone in the other.

“What are you doing here?!”

“Confessing how much of an idiot I am.” He pouted.

“Go on.”

“It was highly indecent of me to let you go like that and I’m sorry.”

Part of him wanted to confess everything to her, take the leap and come clean, but he didn’t. The repeating dream that haunted him since she left had awakened a new fear in him: that she was only fooling around with him that night. It was yet to be proven irrational. He felt it was her turn to say something for this wasn’t a one way street.

“Thank you. It’s just… That night- I thought you cared about me.”

He sat down next to her.

“I do.” Way too much actually.

Shadow leaned in on her, resting his arms on her legs, his lips close to her ear. He closed her in between the wall behind her and himself in front of her only to whisper: “In fact, I don’t like that you’re going out with someone if that someone isn’t me.”

Amy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She tilted her head and unintentionally tightened her grip on Shadow’s chest fur. Her lashes softly tickled on his muzzle when she blinked. His musky scent and flirting intoxicated her senses. He levelled with her to catch her gaze, internally screaming from how hot she looked in what he realized was in fact one of his sweaters.

“Heh, here I only thought I had the hots for you, but it seems I was wrong.”

He pulled her closer by the cords of the sweater. Slowly he closed the remaining distance between them, softly pressing his lips against hers.

“So wrong!”

Amy smiled against his lips and straddled him, clamping his legs between her own, before passionately pouring into the kiss.

Chaos! I wanted this for so long!

_______________

AN: This one’s long! I decided to care less and just write and draw whatever I want, trying out new styles. Here goes...

Shadow and Amy are both adults here. Where I live smoking marihuana is tolerated.

Like always: send me a note for annoying typos, grammar mishaps etc. 

[percyinpanties]

hey I'm the pipeyna anon and that's ok!!! can u do pipeyna with piper pining after hot jock Reyna which hopefully ends happy (smutty)

just a quick warm-up, i say, i won’t spend too much time on this. i really had to resist just going on and on and on with this. i miss writing this ship, damn.

anyway - this fits really well with an enemy to lovers prompt i have for jercy, so thats what im hinting at too here.

Read on Ao3

for context : i always write college aus from a UK uni perspective bc that’s all i know and i don’t care to adapt to how it might or might not work in the u.s. (sorry)

rating: teen+ (no smut in this one, but let me tell you, this TEMPTED me)

words: 2.2k 

___

“An actual goddess” Piper says wistfully from where she’s leaning against the wall next to Percy, taking back the cigarette she’d just bummed of him. Her eyes are glued on the field, and more precisely on Reyna, smile on her face and water bottle in her hand as she jogs over to Jason standing at the side of the field. They greet each other with a hug, even as Reyna wrinkles her face, seemingly complaining about her own sweatiness.

It’s coincidence that the end of Reyna’s soccer practice collides conveniently with Piper’s and Percy’s late seminar on Mondays. It isn’t coincidence that Percy and her have taken to sharing a cigarette on the side of the building that looks out toward the field during their break, however.

 Percy makes a non-committal noise and his eyes follow Piper’s gaze while she takes a drag of the cigarette and wrinkles her nose. She needs to quit smoking for good, she thinks, and flicks the ash to the ground. There was a brief moment in first year when Piper thought that Percy might be interested in Reyna, or she in him, but luckily, nothing ever came of that.

 “You think they’re dating?” Percy asks, arms crossed over his chest now, making no move to take the cigarette back again. He’s not even pretending not to be staring, his eyes intense where they flit between Reyna and Jason. Piper on the other hand has the common decency to at least cast her eyes away every now and again before she’s caught looking for a little too long.

At the edge of the field, Reyna and Jason are standing close together now, chatting about god knows what, smiling and laughing. They’re certainly comfortable with each other, but Piper can’t say that’s much of an indication given how she’s around Percy.

 “I hope not.” Piper mutters and Percy laughs at that, even though she knows he agrees. Percy wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but Piper would bet real money that he has a thing for Jason, too, as much as he claims to hate the guy. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to notice the tension between them.

It would make sense, though, in a way. Jason is captain of the men’s rugby team, Reyna of the women’s soccer team. Some of their practices collide and the two clubs do most of their weekly socials together, and Piper’s seen the two of them hanging out aside from that plenty as well. Reyna and her haven’t talked much about Jason, maybe because Piper hasn’t actually exchanged more than five words with him and never had much of an urge to change that, but she knows that Reyna and Jason have known each other before university.

Around Jason, Reyna seems to let her guard down, something Piper has only managed to achieve a handful of times since they met during their first year.

 Jason laughs at something Reyna says, eyes bright and head thrown back and Piper can’t deny that he’s handsome, at the very least. He’s fairly decent, too, as far as guys go, and really, Piper knows she shouldn’t be hoping that there is nothing between Reyna and him if that is what would make Reyna happy.

 “Invite her to the party.” Percy suggests then, drawing Piper’s attention back from the tangent her brain was so insistent to start on. When Piper turns her face to look at him, he’s already looking back at her, one eyebrow arched. “I was going to, anyway, but it’s different coming from you yourself.”

 He’s not teasing her, it’s an honest suggestion, and technically not even a bad one. It’s Percy’s birthday this weekend, and if nothing else, it would be a good excuse to hang out again. Percy knows a ton of people, but he usually doesn’t invite too many to his party, so with any luck, it won’t be too crowded to actually spend some time with Reyna.

More than that, though, it’s another opportunity for Piper to finally get a move on. Percy, Piper knows, thinks that Piper’s pining had reached a point where it’s almost comical halfway through last year, but even so, Piper has yet to manage to actually act on her feelings.

A party is casual enough that she can always play it off as nothing serious when it ends up blowing up in her face. Piper might finally get over herself and just ask Reyna out already – although she’s tried that a few times before only to find herself tongue tied and staring at Reyna like she hung the moon in the sky. She’s been head over heels for Reyna since maybe three weeks after they met in first year, and now that they’re starting their third and final year, Piper needs to get a move on or it’ll simply be too late. Granted, she’s scared shitless at the prospect of being turned down, but at this point, even that would be better than pining forever and never finding out if she’d even stand a chance.

 “Yeah… maybe.��� Piper says finally, and manages a small smile towards Percy who bumps his shoulder against hers playfully. They should be heading back inside, so Piper sneaks a last glance toward Reyna and this time, finds her looking back.

    They don’t share any classes this year, and Piper doesn’t usually run into Reyna on campus, so on Wednesday morning, she ends up texting Reyna on her way to class. She fumbles with her phone, almost tripping over her own two feet trying to type the words out as fast as possible, and ends up having to sidestep off the path to actually send the texts.

 Hey you.

we’re having a party on Saturday, it’s Percy’s birthday.

 Piper wants to add more, but instead, she bites her lip and stuffs her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. It’s almost an open invitation like this already anyway, and Piper wants to gauge Reyna’s first reaction before deciding exactly how she’s going about asking. Technically, it would be so easy to just as Reyna to go with her, specifically, to the party, but the intention might be lost over text and anyway, wouldn’t it be simpler to just invite her generally?

Piper frets throughout the entirety of her first lecture, and most of the second one, for nothing. Reyna doesn’t answer, even though the messenger app shows Piper that she’s read both texts already, and Piper tries not to be disappointed about it. She doesn’t know what Reyna’s schedule is like today, the girl might just be busy and planned on replying later. It makes sense, much more than Piper’s second thought that Reyna is not answering because Piper is annoying and Reyna doesn’t actually want to spend any time with her. She knows that thought is stupid, knowing that however does nothing to ease the anxious knot in Piper’s stomach.

 Piper finds herself checking her phone more often than not. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous, and if the lecturer wasn’t so clearly catching on that Piper isn’t paying as much attention to the class as she is to her phone. She texts Percy as well, but she knows he’s in that seminar he shares with Jason, so chances are that she won’t be getting a reply on that end anytime soon either.  In the end, she has to force herself to put her phone away and actually focus on the lecture up front, even though by that point, she is already lost as to what they’re even talking about in the first place. It’s no good, and Piper can’t deny being relieved when the lecturer eventually dismisses the class.

 She doesn’t allow herself to check her messages until she’s across campus in the coffee shop, queuing for some much needed caffeine and fishing out her phone so she doesn’t have to make small talk with anyone while she waits in line. Reyna still hasn’t replied, but at least Percy has messaged her after his seminar.

 I’m gonna strangle him, Piper. You’ll have to bust me out of prison because they are going to arrest me for goddamn murder.

 All she’d asked was if his classes were as boring as hers today, and while she had expected Percy to go off about Jason in reply, this isn’t exactly what she’d thought to be reading today. She smiles at her phone, types out a quick reply and moves up in the queue.

 That bad? What’s he done now?

 The way Percy talks about Jason makes Piper think of a Cartoon Network villain, always plotting, provoking and scheming. The few times she’s spoken to Jason, the guy wasn’t half bad, and if Piper is honest, she doesn’t quite get the vendetta these two have with each other. She suspects though that it has something to do with how ‘infuriatingly attractive, like fucking superman or something’ Percy described Jason after their first class together.

 It’s like he thinks I’m stupid or something. Got a dumb fucking project to do together and he honestly told me that he ‘needs to pass this class so iif I’m not planning to put in the work, we might as well ask for new partners right away’

Like, excuse me, bitch? My grades are better than yours, for one thing

And for another, it’s not like good-old Dodds is gonna let us switch anyway

 Piper huffs audibly while she reads the texts. It’s clear Percy’s actually upset by this, and she figures it will only get worse if they actually have to do the work together in the coming weeks. Before she can shoot Percy a reply though, she’s next in line.

Piper orders her coffee, steps aside to wait once she’s paid, and rereads Percy’s texts before she types her reply to Percy.

 Sounds like a dick move.

 Piper’s almost inclined to defend Jason for a moment, since Percy mostly doesn’t pay much attention in class, especially in Mrs. Dodds seminars – so how is Jason meant to know how much effort Percy puts in outside of it? On the other hand, though, Piper knows how Percy is, and how personally he’s clearly taken Jason’s comment already, so trying to convince him otherwise would simply be fruitless.

Once Piper’s coffee is done, she heads back outside, finding an empty bench to enjoy the break before her next class. If nothing else, at least Percy’s ranting is distracting her from Reyna, and the party, and asking the other girl out – and in between the rapid texts Percy and her are sending back and forth Piper almost forgets about it entirely. Until she has to head back to her last class, that is, and sees that Reyna has, so far, still left her on read.

 Piper hesitates for a moment, clicking on the text field without typing anything just yet. Is she going to come off as desperate if she texts again, or should she just clarify now before it gets too late and Reyna already makes different plans for the weekend?

Piper types out a few words, deletes them again and pockets her phone only to get it back out a few seconds later to try again. She shouldn’t be walking and texting, especially given that she should be going faster to actually make it to her lecture in time, but Piper knows that if she doesn’t send this text now, she’ll spend another lecture agonising over what to say.

 So yeah, I wanted to invite you too ofc :)

 Piper cringes at her wording, but figuring it won’t get much better, she sends the text anyway and finally tucks her phone back into her pocket to actually hurry to class.

   By the time Reyna replies, it’s late and Piper is sitting on the beat-up couch in her shared flat’s living room, watching something trashy on TV without really paying much attention at all. Percy is clanking around in the kitchen, making something that smells good enough to remind Piper that she should probably be getting herself some food, too. She’s about to get up and rummage through her fridge compartment in search of something edible when her lock screen lights up with a message from Reyna, and that derails any thoughts of food immediately. Piper isn’t subtle in the way she practically lunges for her phone, but luckily, Percy can’t see and judge her from his position in the kitchen.

 Sorry, long day, reads the first text, following a few seconds later by another one.

Promised Jason to hang out but I’d love to :(

 Piper bites her lip, knowing before typing out the words that Percy won’t like what she’s doing in the slightest.

 You could bring him? Percy won’t mind.

 Except that Percy most certainly will mind, Piper thinks, and grimaces. If she hadn’t come off as desperate before, she most certainly does now – texting back within less than a minute after having been left on read all day, only to offer that Reyna can bring her friend (boyfriend?) along as well if that means she’ll be there.

There’ll be other opportunities, Piper tells herself, and scrubs a hand over her face. She needs to chill, and maybe she needs to grab a cigarette and step outside and calm down before she embarrasses herself even further.

 Piper stares at the screen. How on earth is she meant to interpret this? At this rate, she won’t make it until Saturday, dying of one crisis or another before then.

 if you’re sure? I’ll ask him.

haven’t seen you in a while, would be nice to hang out again ;)

 I’m sure.

[lovenona]

me, waking up: oh another day. then, after reading your answer: HOLY SHIT. guess i'm now the loving ramble enabler (LRE?). and DO NOT apologize for being passionate about smt that makes you happy you lovely human being that u are! hearing you ramble (how many times will i use this word idek) about the creation process made my day dammit! and i can assure you, reading about it is as good as reading the masterpiece itself, especially considering how good you are at manifesting the vibes (tm) (pt1)

(pt 2 bc word count sucks) how did you first get interested in pirate history? (if you don't mind me asking ofc) *slides 15 bucks* please, be my guest. do tell us more about the writing/revision process. sincerely, a genuinely interested person currently wondering why the fuck tumblr won't let her do a paragraph break. have a lovely night/day!

bestie ur rly enabling me 😭 ur so sweet skSJKAJSk i will tell u so much under this god damn cut 

first because this is the easy response: how did u get interested in pirate history????

short answer: keira knightley in pirates of the caribbean BYE 💀

long answer: it’s basically a mix of those movies being a centerpiece of my childhood and me just thinking pirates are cool SKJSKAj i’m very much into history n my uni had a course on ‘history of pirates’ last spring so i took it as smth to do during quarantine and i ended up really loving it !!! i’m actually workin on historical fiction short story abt anne bonny and mary read rn which required me to do a lot more research on pirates (under the black flag by david cordingly is a very good book on piracy!) and my research has been very interesting just in general and for writing the odyssey – i've incorporated little historical tidbits here n there to add to the world-building :’)

next: ur writing process

ok so let’s go cray besties i’m going to tell u abt the life of adele writing the odyssey!!!! i’ll try talking abt this in some semblance of a logical step-by-step

1. manifesting vibes + outline

i talked abt this last time but manifesting the vibes is very important ! the first things i like to do when getting ready to write a new chapter is define the setting – place(s), weather, time, and general mood 

while i have a pretty good idea of how many chapters it will be and where the odyssey ends, i usually don’t plan a chapter in super great detail until it’s time to sit down n write it. i have general points of people to include + things that would be important to the plot + vibes i hope to include (parts 6 and 7 r gonna SLAP!!), but these never get fleshed out until it’s Time. my outlines are therefore usually not very detailed because i like to give the odyssey room to do its own thing – i find it important that the story takes its time and we get to the important stuff whenever it wants us to. an outline will usually b something like, in the case of the furies call part 2: 

find megumi, talk abt his role in the zenin clan – naoya arrives on shore and shit hits the fan – run to find mai, maki fights her father – fight between naoya and todou – todou dies because you can’t kill naoya – sukuna rescues reader and it ends

after i have smth that looks like this as well as a decently clear idea of how everything will look and feel we get started!!

2. writing (pain)

arguably the worst stage for any creator! writing! at this point i genuinely just let go and let god tbh. i have no idea how i do things at this stage other than see how many commas + dumb poetic phrases i can include SKKSJKA – sometimes things just happen and it’s really cool!! for example in part 4 i didn’t know the guns warehouse was going to blow up until i was writing it and it just happened 

i do have a set quota of words i meet every time i sit down to write so that i A. feel accomplished and happy when i'm done, even if it sucks and B. don’t get burnout and start hating what i do. this stage is always difficult because writing is just hard and takes a lot of brainpower and self-discipline </3

i wld say the hardest part is that i run the risk of getting very overwhelmed – by the complexities of the plot, by how fucking long it takes me to write, by how much work writing itself is ! for example, abt 7k or so into part 5 i started having the worst existential dread when i realized that this chapter was not even halfway done and i wld have to surpass 15k before it was (at the time of writing this, part 5 is 16.3 💀) it just gets hard sometimes to overcome that and maintain the motivation to keep going and know that everything will be fine when it’s done – thankfully everyone here is so patient and sweet so it makes me feel better when i'm taking forever and/or need time off <333

basically, as always, the pain of writing is just having to write and come to terms with the fact no one else is going to manifest it for u. and have fun too!! writing is only fun when ur writing what u think is cool 

3. revision (less pain)

one of the fun stages, but also the point when i start to become impatient! writing an odyssey chapter can easily take 2.5-3 weeks even if i'm writing my quota every single day (part 5 took roughly 3 weeks of writing every god damn afternoon) and after that i spend another few weeks just going back and rereading/fixing everything. 

i basically start by rereading sections of the chapter to change sentence structure, grammar, dialogue, or whatever else i don’t like – sometimes sentences sound stupid or certain things don’t make a whole lot of sense so i like to go back and polish up! for example i changed the arrival of maki/mai/nobara in furies call part 1 about ten times before i decided it made sense to me

this step can be horrendous because i'll often write things really shitty in the first draft with a “i’ll come back to this later” mindset and then get mad at myself later for being a hoe <//3

in essence, i'm a horrible perfectionist so i will usually reread everything and change or add things multiple times before i think i'm finally ready to share. most of the time, as the chapter gets closer and closer to completion i become more and more hyper-fixated on it – i’ll start spending almost all of my free time just rereading and looking for minor fixes or places that don’t vibe as well. 

at the end of this step, my favorite thing to do before i queue the chapter up to post is sit down and just read the entire thing once or twice and give it one last kiss before i send her off into the world <3

so anyway there’s my ted talk of how i usually make the odyssey ! i vibe, write, revise n take forever to do all three steps but that’s just part of the fun! thank u for tuning in if u have any other questions u wld like me to overshare on i am more than happy to talk abt it :’)

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Uhm, my day was decent? I mean aside from the fact that mornings exist and I did not want to wake up in time for my shift at work. But. And the end of the day when I have literal hours to do stuff after.. it works out cuz. Usually I get off and its oh shit I have enough time to halfway emotionally recharge and then its time for bed.

But. I got in and E^2 had put like. My name down on the schedule, and. That was great really. And we had this sheet for sign up of, basically what areas you want to be personally responsible for. And I signed light and it was great. And I dont think anyone really noticed cuz the manager wasn't there and no one else really looked at the schedule or anything else. But. It made me happy.

Still haven't gotten my name tag changed and honestly I dont think I'm going to. Cuz. I feel like I'm just being a bother asking again. But. It is what it is I guess.

I got off at five and its now nine and ive just been vibing in the car listening and singing to Spotify since I got off just trying to keep the sad at bay. And I should probably go home but. I dont want to. Cuz I know I'm just gonna wallow in the sad and self destructive tendencies if i go home.. If I ask nicely will the fae take me in as one of their own and I can become a cryptid in the woods?????

I have a three day weekend coming up and im considering doing a touch up on my hair since its really washed out. But I cant decide if I wanna keep it fully red or try and do like an ombre double tone thingy.. but I'm not sure what other color I'd try to do to the tips? Idk

I kinda wish my hair was longer so I could do like. The galaxy hair thing? Where its various shades of purple and blue and some pink and it looks different depending on how you style it. But I also know attempting to grow my hair out longer than I already plan to is a bad idea, cuz the sides and back are already getting too long and I hate it. But I wish I could do fun stuff with it too

Oh well. The duality of man i guess..

Uhm. I bought a giant plastic egg the other day, that reminds me of a dragons egg kinda. And I'm trying to decide if I should keep a hoard of dice in there or a hoard of crystals. Cuz. Dice and the clacky math rocks. But. Also shiny crystally gems

Speaking of dice I also really kinda want to try and get into a dnd group, but social anxiety and I have zero idea where to start with that so. That's fun.

Im currently resisting the urge to go and get more holes and metal in my head too. I just. The red hair makes me feel cool and powerful and I wanna look punk and

Sorry I've been rambling for like half a novel. I'll stop now before I get annoying. I mean I definitely already am. But you asked for asks and distractions and 👉👈 I love you

Id ask about your day but you seem to want a distraction from that sooo. How about, got any fun headcanons to share??

Thats awesome on the name front!!! I saw that and I got really excited for you when you posted the picture this morning, honestly I think you should bring up the nametag again, esspecially if its showing up on the schedule too. (Oddly enough I kicked around the idea of using a new name with friends and sruff today which is weird mostly bc like i like my name irl, its fairly androgynous and it makes me happy and i love my online name bc it means me :))

My vote is two tone!! I almost did a pink/purple ombre with my hair this round so I say do ittttt (that's also what I say about the extra holes and metal. Do itttttrrr)

That would be a hard choice but u do really like the idea of a giant dragons egg full of dice ngl. I need to find some people to play with too. I'm trying to get b and c in on something but idk if its ever really gonna pan out the way I want it too. My town actually has a pretty active dnd community but I am way too new and way too socially anxious to ever join something like that so I feel you there.

100% not annoying, each paragraph made me smile more. :)

My day was actually mostly ok, i just sorta ruined it with Danny at home. I just pointed out that the idealized dream band life that I wanted and thought I had was what she got and that it made me kinda jealous and she pointed out (correctly) that I'm jealous of so many aspects of her life that she now has a list of things she can't talk to me about for fear of setting me into a spiral and just. Yeah. That wasnt fun.

But work was ok. The kids all were really tierd so there was a fair bit of crying going on, but the weather was really nice so we got to go outside with them for a long time and that was very nice. I also got some really sweet cuddles from a few of them that made me very happy.

Oh! I also have a funny story about them!! So I was squatting (my main position is almost like Spiderman bc I'm down on the kids' level but i can also get up and move if I need to pretty quick) and one of the girls goes and gets a book, then stands right in front of me and points at the floor and says "sit" in the most authoritative voice I have ever hear from a 1 1/2 year old 😂 as soon as I sat down she was in my lap and opening the book so I could read to her.

As far as headcanons.... Sadly my brain is bouncimg mostly art ideas for the Tamgled au and not anything of substance so I may take a crack at that later. Otherwise I keep thinking about whumped up Will crying on the floor and Maurie finding him. Really I'm just thinking about Maurie and Will being bros. A lot. So much. God I love them.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Summer Love: Chapter One

A/N: I’m pretty sure I just woke up this morning with this idea of ‘what if I did a high school AU Gerard x Reader at an artsy summer camp?’ so yeah, here you go. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader (High school AU) Word count: 2687

After a long and harsh school year you were finally able to go and experience your favorite part of summer: sleep away camp.

Having just wrapped up your sophomore year filled with honors and AP classes amongst electives and extracurriculars which were all art, you were ready as ever to get a break from the hectic schedule of school. And sleep away camp meant just that.  

Camp Peterson was one of the elite camps in Jersey. It specialized in students who excelled in art, and helped them expand their skills greatly. This was perfect for you with your love of painting and sketching.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Mel?” You asked, whipping around despite the bags you were holding. There was your purple haired, nose pierces, best sleep away camp friend who you had known since sixth grade. She squealed, running up to you and giving you an anxious hug.

“Ugh, I missed you!” She smiled.

“I missed you too.” You hugged back.

“Damn,” She said, looking you up and down and pulling away, “You glew up.” “I did?” You asked. Sure, you had lost a few pounds, and cut and dyed your hair (bleached it just because), but you didn’t think it was a whole glow up situation.

“Are you kidding? I could barely recognize you!” You smiled.

“Thanks.” You said. She helped your carry your bags to cabin 17, the one you had been staying in for all your years. Setting your bags down on your side of the room by your twin bed, you looked around. It hadn’t changed a bit.

Because you and she were frequent campers who came every year the dean let you two keep your cabin and decorate it, promising that after your senior year you would come back and take it all down.

“C’mon, let’s go see the boys.” Mel said, looking at you.

“But I haven’t put my stuff away-” “So, we have another like hour to do that.” You sighed, going along with her to Cabin 18, your next door neighbors. You two ran up the small wooden steps and knocked on the door. Immediately, Mikey answered.

“Y/N? Mel?” He asked, looking at you two, “It’s been so long!” He smiled, giving you each a hug.

“Hey Mikes.” Mel said, “How are you?” “A lot better now that my best friends are here.” “Hey! I though I was your best friend!” You heard Frank walk up to the door, “Oh, hey fuckers.” He smiled at you two.

“Shut up Frank.” Mel fired back, “You’re a bitch.” “Well you’re a whore.” He said, looking at you right after, “Seems like nothing has changed.” But then he looked at you, “Oh, wait, Y/N got hot.” You lightly blushed. “But you’re still so shy and innocent. We’ll fix that, don’t you worry.” The boys let you into their cabin where you each sat down on a bean bag. There room was filled with posters of bands like The Smashing Pumpkins and The Misfits, and included Mikey’s old CD player which you guys would use almost every night.

“Nothing’s changed around here, huh?” You asked.

“You ask that every year and the answer is always no.” Frank responded. You shrugged. “Wait, actually something has changed.” He looked to Mikey to continue. Both you and Mel furrowed your brows.

“Oh yeah, my brother Gerard?” You both nodded knowing Mikey had talked about him before, “He’s here this year. He sobered up and so Mom let him come.” “Oh, cool.” Mel said.

“He’s in Ray’s cabin.” Frank added.

“I thought Bob was in Ray’s cabin?” “He couldn’t come this year.” Mikey explained, “Some sort of family vacation.” “For six weeks?” “Dunno,” Mikey concluded, “That’s what he told me.”

“We should probably go check on them.” Frank added. You all nodded.

The four of you walked out of the cabin and to number 9, Ray’s and now Gerard’s. Frank knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked again, this time harder. “Just a minute!” You heard Ray yell before coming a few seconds later and greeting you all with a smile.

“If you two were fucking in there already-” Frank said and Ray rolled his eyes.

“Grow up.” He told Frank, letting you guys in. You noticed a black haired boy sitting on one of the beds, what looked to be a comic book in hand. He was focused on the pages, while you were focused on his ruffled hair and strong jawline that shaped into a U. His hair went right above his shoulder, ruffled all over the place.

“Hey, Gee.” You heard Mikey greet. So this was Gerard.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled, looking up.

“These are the people we hang out with.” Ray began, going down the line, “Frank, Melanie, or Mel, and Y/N, or Y/N/N.” You nodded and smiled as he looked over all of you. You noticed how his hazel eyes grazed over you a little longer, or maybe you were just hallucinating.

“Wait, Y/N/N.” Ray took your out of your trance.

“Hm?” You asked, looking up at him. “You got-” He couldn’t find the right word.

“Hot?” Frank finished, “Yeah, we all know.” Ray rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t exactly the word but you look more mature.” Ray concluded.

“Thanks.” You said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Also you’re hair, it looks awesome.”

“Thanks.” You replied to that too.

“Hi, I’m Gerard.” He reached his hand out which you shook, “But you can call me Gee.” “I’m Y/N,” You smiled, “But you can call me Y/N/N.”

He went around and introduced himself before Mel and you headed back to put your stuff away. You placed all your clothes neatly into the drawers, hanging up some of your Christmas lights around the room. Right as you were finishing up and putting your duffel bag under your bed, you heard a knock at the door before Frank came barging in and ran to your freshly made bed, crashing on it. “Really?” You asked. “I just made that.” “So?” He asked, “I’m just making it more comfy.” “Sure you are.” The other three came in too, Mikey sitting on the edge of Mel’s bed and the Ray sitting on one of the beanbags. You noticed Gerard looking at your filled bookshelf, which was a mixture of classics and comic books. Everyone began talking but you decided to go and greet him.

“Hey, Gee.” You smiled and stood next to him, he looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” He replied.

“What’re you looking at?” You lightly laughed, knowing he was obviously looking at your books.

“The amount of books you have.” He said, “And comics too.” “I do have quite the collection.” He smiled at you.

“You have Watchmen?” He looked at your complete collection on the top shelf. You nodded.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, “You seem surprised.” “No it’s just I um, I-” “You wouldn’t think a girl would read Watchmen?” “Well um,” He said, “I mean, yeah um- that makes me sound like a sexist asshole.” “No, it’s alright.” You assured him. “I don’t know that many girls who read it either.”

“It’s my favorite series. Alan Moore is just so good.” “It is a really good series,” You smiled. “I’ve always preferred V for Vendetta, by him at least. But I have a real soft spot for Black Widow comics.” He nodded. “She’s just a badass, ya know?” “She is.” He smiled.

“Awwww, look at you two.” You heard Frank. Both of you looked back to see everyone in the room smirking and looking at you guys. “If that isn’t love then I don’t know what is.” “Oh, shut up Iero.” You snapped. You wouldn’t consider yourself in love with Gerard considering you two hadn’t spent more than five minutes together, but you had to admit he was pretty attractive. “What time is it?” You asked out loud. Ray looked at his watch.

“5:56.” He replied.

“So dinner starts in four minutes.” Mel said, “We should probably go.” The six of you headed out of your cabin and down a few trails to the cafeteria.

“What’s usually for dinner?” Gerard asked you, walking beside you.

“First night’s usually pizza. It’s halfway decent. The rest of the food is shit but we live.” He nodded.

“But Y/N’s rich parents always ship us snacks.” Frank interrupted. You tensed feeling extremely uncomfortable at the topic that was brought up. Your parents were wealthy and you were extremely lucky and grateful, but you hated being associated with your family’s wealth and everyone in the group knew that.

“C’mon Frank.” Mel stuck up for you, “Just be grateful.”

You all made your way to the crowded hall, which was filled with primarily people who you had seen before, with a few new faces here and there. You all stood in line, grabbing the paper plates you had and grabbing your choice between Coke and water, you went with water. One by one you got two slivers of pizza on your plate, and sat at your traditional table in the corner. “So, let’s go over the groups.” Mel told Gerard. “This is probably the best time to do so.” “Most people here are nice. As long as you’re nice to them they’ll be nice back. The only people you don’t want to be near are the one’s in the center table.” She pointed, “They don’t have a group name because those are stupid, but-” “They’re a group of bitches.” Frank interrupted and Mel shot him a look, “Tell me I’m wrong.” She rolled her eyes.

“They’re just privileged white kids who are absolute pricks.” She sighed, “Just try to stay away from them. If you stay near us there’s a good chance we can help you if they decide to pick on you.”

“But they probably won’t,” Mikey began, “Because last year Y/N exposed their ring leader, Lacey, of getting a boob job in front of the entire camp.” Everyone snickered as I smirked.

“That was worth getting a three day detention.”

“Hell yeah it was.” Frank added on.

“Hello everyone!” You heard Jasper, the camp director shouted. You all sighed.

“Who’s that?” Gerard whispered.

“The director, Jasper. He’s gonna do his stupid yearly speech.” He nodded. You all sat back ready to endure his ongoing words about how great camp was, and all the fun, and responsibilities. Basically the bullshit.

“Basic rules,” He finished up, “No fighting. No drugs or alcohol,” Jasper looked at Frank, “That includes any tobacco products. And no bullying.” He finished up. “Now have fun!” Everyone clapped. The six of you got up, throwing out your plates and heading back to your cabins.

“The spot?” Mikey asked and you all nodded. You and Mel went in, Mel grabbing her backpack.

“Rose all day baby.” She smiled, slipping a few bottles and cups in. You rolled your eyes, “Oh c’mon, ease up a bit.” “I’m just not big on alcohol.” You said. You two got up and walked through the various patches of forest and trails, a flashlight in hand before you reached the spot, a little hangout area you found under an old bridge on the camp ground. You saw the four boys were already there.

“And here comes the ladies.” Frank sighed, lighting a cigarette, “Late as always.” You flipped him off. You took a seat on one of the wood benches next to Gerard, after climbing over a few rocks in the water to get to the area.

“Who wants a drink?” Mel asked. Everyone said yes, besides you and Gerard.

“Buzzkills.” Frank said.

“Hey.” You snapped, “Some people choose not to break rules. It’s a personal choice.” You looked at Gerard who nodded. Everyone began talking about some topic which you didn’t get invested in. You looked at Gerard who you could tell was not into it either. “Here,” You told him, grabbing his hand. He looked up at you. “Follow me.” He got up as you led him hand in hand to the other side of the bridge where you took your shoes off putting them in the water. Gerard followed. “It’s really beautiful here.” You said, looking up at the clear night sky.

“Yeah it is.” He agreed.

“So, why did you decide to come here?” You asked him.

“Well, Mikey would talk about it all the time. He just loves it here. I wanted to go for so long.” He explained, “But I was an alcoholic. So my parents eventually got me sober.” He finished.

“I don’t think your parents did.” You said, “You got yourself sober.” “Well, kinda.” He replied, “They just really pressured me to.” You nodded.

“Are you happier now?” You asked him, “Sorry if that was too much of a personal question.”

“No it’s alright.” He said, “Not too many people talk to me about it, they think it’s kinda weird. But yeah, I am happier now.” “That’s good, right?” He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be able to remember things.” He lightly laughed. “What about you?” He asked.

“What?” “What’s so fucked up about you?” He said, “And don’t lie and tell me nothing, because we’re all a little fucked up.”

“I don’t know.” You said, “I’m depressed. Which I guess in the grand scheme of things it isn’t the worst thing ever. Everyone in the group knows it, but I’ve been doing pretty alright for a while. Art’s helped me a lot.” “That’s good.” He said, “I’ve suffered with depression, art’s helped me too.”

“So what are you most excited for here?” You changed the subject. “I guess just meeting new people, like you.” He smiled, “So far that’s worked.” You nodded. “What’s something you always look forward to?”

“Basically hanging out.” You smiled, “We do this most nights, and when it rains we all go into Mel’s and my cabin and share stupid scary stories.” “Sounds fun.” “It is.” You said, “You’re obligated to come though, so you should see.” “I’m obligated?” He teased, “And how am I obligated.” “Well you’re apart of the group now,” You began, “And where else do you think you would fit in here?” “Ouch, that kinda hurt.” You both lightly laughed. “But you make a fair point.” “Oh I know I do.” You playfully nudged him.

“C’mon you two, we need to head back before it gets too dark.” Ray turned a corner of one of the pillars. You both got up walking over to where everyone else was.

The crew and you two walked back, you and Gerard trailing behind a bit to start up some small conversation. “What’s your first class tomorrow?” You asked.

“Sketching, I think. 10 am.” “Same.” You smiled. “What’s after that?” “I think I have writing and then cartooning.” “Oh cool,” You said, “I have photography and then painting.”

“That’s cool.” He replied. You two had made your way back to main camp, you and Melanie said bye to everyone and went back to your room.

“So, you and Gerard seem pretty cozy.” Mel smiled, as you crashed on your bed. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh fuck off.” “So you like him?” She smirked.

“I’m fond of him.” You corrected, “But he is attractive.”

“So are you gonna go after him?” “Probably not,” You sighed, “I mean he’s what, going into his senior year? He’s a year older and I’m sure he has a girlfriend.” “Have you asked him?” “No.” You replied honestly.

“Then ask him.” “That would make it so obvious.” “Then ask Mikey.” “Maybe.” You said, “But then Mikey would know.” “I think all of us already know.”

“Plus he’s way out of my league.” “Did you forget that you got hot?” She asked you, “Like really hot?” You huffed.

“I just don’t see it working.” “You haven’t even known him for 24 hours, and now you don’t think a relationship with him would work?” She asked, “You have six weeks to make something work with him and start a summer romance. Might as well do it early on.” “Shut up.” You sighed, “I’m going to bed.”

[imagines-mha]

Hi!! Happy belated Valentine’s Day🙃 I hope your day was great👌 could I have a male Valentine’s match up with Haikyuu? Im straight with she/her pronouns. I’m 5’4” 1/2. I have mid length blond straight hair with tan skin and deep green eyes. I don’t really have an aesthetic look it just really matters on how I feel. I’ve been told I seem to be stylish but I just try to look decent😀if I’m feeling lazy I wear sweats and then if I feel a little fancy I’ll wear some jeans lol. I usually wear sweaters and large sweatshirts just because they are so comfy and sometimes stylish. My personality, well you see, I have a resting bitch face and can be classified as an ass/bitch when I’m near people I don’t like or just don’t really care about. I have bad anger issues✌���😔 but I’m pretty confident, at least I try to be, and I don’t take shit from people. Around my friends I’m pretty goofy and cocky (I can also be cocky in front of people I’m not usually social with lol) I’m pretty observant and tend to listen closely when people talk about themselves and I remember little things about people that might have come up in a convo once. I’m chaotic also lol if you tell me to do something like take a spoonful of mustard, mayo, hot sauce, I’ll do it just for the shits a giggles, and just to make people laugh lol. I will suffer for the entertainment 🖐😌 I’m definitely competitive I will turn ANYTHING into a game just to say I won. my interests consist of writing, tbh just straight up talking to people I love meeting people and hanging out with friends/family, playing in the snow- gotta love snowball fights, an arcade games. I’m pretty good grade wise I’m determined to reach my goals, and I’m not a procrastinator unless it consists labor😒 I like getting work done fast and my favorite class is history/eastern cultures. I love learning about stuff that happened in the past and things that are happening now like with problems or just interesting facts that I will never need to know but love bragging that I know it.

....I think I did this right? 🤔 You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to lol. I hope you get this my tumblr has a history of eating things I send, it’s very depressing lol. I hope you have a great day/night! And stay gold 🙃

DAMN u radiate the most cool vibes sndnwnsnw stay gold bb ✊🏻✊🏻💖 n i hope u enjoy

i ship you with: Miya Atsumu

the vibes. the VIBES this couple give off i canNOT. like that hot couple everyone wants to be?? thats u guys. chaotic duo we love to see it smh

valentines special

♡ you guys r so fucking spontaneous

♡ no one can cope. osamu is tired.

♡ takes you somewhere like an arcade or smth competitive cus he finds it hot when you get mad 😔✊🏻

♡ then to osamu’s store for food cus he doesnt wanna pay 😔🙄

♡ tells all his friends he spoils u sm and ur just like 🤼‍♂️

♡ he actually does spoil u w gifts and SM QUALITY TIME

♡ he rlly does treat u like a princess smh

♡ you guys watch movies / documentaries / youtube videos all night

♡ he gets bored halfway and you end up making out

[tigerdrop]

ive been absolutely losing my mind this past week but today i have escaped the thrall of brain demons and i would like to show u a sneak peek of my geralt/jaskier sex pollen fic, Sacrificial Rites. (this part is safe-for-work tho.)

its roughly halfway done but this is all im comfortable sharing right now BYYEeee

It starts when Jaskier hears, in the near distance, something like a cannon firing. Well, if he were to think about it, actually, it starts some time before, in a little spit of a village to the north of the Temerian capital. Theirs is but a humble farming community, and it smells the part, which Jaskier reminds Geralt of. Frequently. But the air’s tinged with the smell of smoke, too, and the snow-dusted trees that knot themselves through the village are adorned with bright, multicolored muslin ribbons. Jaskier thumbs some of them as he passes by. Their coin purses are light, and there’s always something, somewhere, in need of slaying, and when a stream of young girls brushes past them, boughs clustered in their hands like bouquets, Jaskier suspects all he’ll have to do is join in whatever festivities are at hand and he’ll drum up work for them in no time. And by “them”, of course, he means Geralt. But that’s not the part he says out loud. True enough, it takes just one bawdy song about Geralt’s prowess at ghoul-slaying and lady-killing for someone in the local tavern to recognize him. A puffy-eyed man, calls himself something Jaskier can’t parse. Or pronounce. But his coin’s good, and Jaskier’s not yet had occasion to sing about the creature he describes - a cikavac, heavy on the sibilants; a gangling, bird-like thing that’s stealing the milk from their cows and the honey from their hives. Jaskier lets out a laugh. “Really? And what does a great big bird want with cow’s milk, anyway?” “Not for eating,” says the man, tugging at his mustache. His voice has a heavy accent, like the words are punched out of his mouth. “Cikavac works for someone. Maybe in another village, maybe someone here. Takes the milk back to them.” “Glorified theft,” Geralt mutters. “Well, what’s the bird get out of it, then? If it were up to me, I’d rather get to fly around, and sing, and, er, whatever else it is birds get up to. Preening? That sounds nice.” “That’s all you do anyway,” says Geralt, face stony, and he steers Jaskier away from the tavern by his shoulder. They almost bump into a woman and her children just outside. Jaskier shimmies past them, narrowly avoiding trodding on their embroidered skirts. “I’m deeply offended, Geralt,” he laments with a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know, I’m a man of many skills and talents. Like… Oh! You wouldn’t happen to have any cherries on hand, would you?” “No,” he says, like this is obvious. “More’s the pity. I’ve got this fascinating trick of the tongue, you know. Lets you tie a knot in a cherry stem, no hands necessary. I picked it up from some ladies in Novigrad.” Geralt turns his head back to look at him, eyebrows raised, but doesn’t dignify that with a response. Doesn’t say much the rest of the afternoon, either. All Jaskier can squeeze out of him is a rudimentary description of the thing - gawky, uncomfortably humanoid, and bearing a long, narrow beak with a fleshy pouch where it keeps its spoils. “Like a pelican,” Jaskier supplies helpfully to no one but himself. There are preparations to be made, but Jaskier mostly tunes them out. More interesting is the smoke, growing thicker as they approach the outskirts of the village. Lot of torches for the middle of the day, he thinks, until they resolve themselves as effigies of cloth and straw, bedecked in dried husks and rudimentary skirts to give them the shape of a woman. Jaskier’s mouth closes mid-word. “Oh, that’s alright, then,” he starts up again, “they’re just setting a bunch of little girls on fire. No big deal. And— and then putting them out again. Sure. Seems a little counterproductive!” His voice breaks on the last word, coming out unnaturally loud. A handful of people glance his way. “Don’t be rude,” grunts Geralt. “Not looking to get chased out of town before I get paid.” “Geralt of Rivia, telling me not to be rude? My goodness. I guess I must be rubbing off on you.” Most of the participants gather around a creek that splits the town from the thicket. They cross its shallow waters between a group of boys taking turns to toss their own straw dolls into it. Back to their familiar rites: gathering herbs, laying traps, establishing a stakeout. Jaskier’s gotten quite good at it by now. He sings while he works, mindless things about sad women with lush black hair, so thick you could drown in it. Geralt tells him to knock it off. It only encourages him to give Geralt a winning smile as he cooks up another verse. They’ve got a nice little vantage point where the valley swells up into rolling hills, affording a decent view of the— of the— “Geralt, what’d that alderman call himself?” The witcher looks up from where he’s crushing seeds in a mortar. “Zduhać.” He mouths the word silently, and finds it cumbersome. Of Zduhać’s farmstead, then, where he’s kindly left his prized goat tied up this night for them to use as bait— “It’s a title,” continues Geralt. Jaskier blinks at him, surprised. “Means something like ‘dragon man’.” Of the zduhać’s farmstead, then. Glad they got that sorted out. “So, what, am I to believe that that old man killed a dragon? He didn’t seem much for that kind of thing. A bit too much gout, if you ask me.” “That’s not what it means.” Jaskier waits for a moment, but Geralt just keeps pounding his pestle. “And what, pray tell, does it mean?” he asks at last, as he crosses one leg over the other and rests his hands on his knee. Geralt keeps silent in a way that Jaskier has come to interpret as I don’t know, so don’t ask. Now, they wait. And wait. Geralt keeps his eyes peeled, as sharp as ever, but sometime after the moon rises high in the sky, Jaskier’s fingers stop strumming quite so fast. The air’s balmy and supple, ripe with moisture and the pollen of countless plants unfurling again, and he finds himself nodding off. Jaskier comes to all at once when he hears, in the near distance, something like a cannon firing. He clambers to his feet, against all reason, really, because the last thing he should do is make himself a bigger target for - for whatever that was from. His lantern’s been put out, enveloping the forest in darkness, and he is suddenly aware that he is alone. “Geralt?” he calls out to the trees. His voice warbles in a way he doesn’t like. There’s no response, but he’s sure that sound came from this way. Or maybe it was that way? Jaskier may be no witcher, what with those keen senses and all, but he is clever enough to follow the shuffling and rustling in the trees until he’s sure he isn’t just hearing things. It’s not until he’s well and truly lost track of where he started from that he stumbles through a cluster of flowering bushes, and with it, Geralt. What he should say is something like “Geralt!”, or “Geralt!”, or even “Thank goodness you’re alright!”, but instead what he says is, “Lords have mercy, you’re filthy,” because his eyes have a direct feed to his mouth that bypasses his brain entirely. Geralt’s hunched over and trying in vain to clean his face, covered as he is from head to toe in a translucent, yellowy slime. So is everything else in a ten foot radius. Geralt spits. “No shit.” “What’s— what in the world happened to you?” He steps forward gingerly in an attempt to avoid the mess. “Damned thing. It ate one of my pouches.” Jaskier draws upon his dabbling knowledge of witchery and alchemy to come to the conclusion that something inside it didn’t play nice with the cikavac’s insides. And now its insides appear to be its outsides. “Well, you’re not hurt, are you? Not missing any limbs, from what I can see.” “You’ll put me out of a job with observational skills like those,” says Geralt, unimpressed. He wrings a thick glob out of his hair. All that’s left of the poor beast is its beak, glossy, orange, and befouled with the same stuff. Jaskier lets Geralt pick it up himself. They can’t go back to town looking like this, or at least Geralt can’t, as Jaskier kindly reminds him. There’s a secluded bank downstream from the villagers and their celebrations. It’ll have to do. This, too, is another thing Jaskier’s gotten good at over the years. Scrubbing Geralt clean, that is. He knows which oils to keep on hand to best maintain Geralt’s hair, which salves to apply to all the places Geralt can’t reach, and which temperature Geralt likes the best when they’ve got a choice in the matter. Things that should be degrading. Beneath a man of his stature. ‘Should’ isn’t often found in his vocabulary, however. His fingers knead through Geralt’s hair to coax the last of the slime out of it. It has an odd texture, not unlike a whisked egg, although he’s to understand it’s just a foul mixture of honey, milk, and assorted intestinal fluids. Muscle memory takes over. The rote nature of it quiets a buzzing in him. It’s the same buzz that makes him turn rhymes over in his head, over and over, keeping him from a good night’s sleep unless he’s worn out or fucked out. Hence his predilection for the finer things in life - wine, women, washing. Geralt’s kind of like a cat, Jaskier thinks idly, how he leans into the firm drag of Jaskier’s fingernails against his scalp. It’s hard to beat back a smile. Those eyes of his, normally beady slits, balloon in the dim moonlight. Jaskier pushes down on his shoulders to get him to submerge himself. He goes easily, lingering under the surface for a moment, where his silver hair hangs suspended around him in a filmy cloud. Then he bursts back through the surface like a quenched sword, hot and steaming. Maybe there was something to those strange rituals after all.

[cavesalamander]

My brief thoughts on this season of anime!

Just a quick review of the ones I’d recommend and/or keep watching. I managed to find all of the below on Funimation or Crunchyroll or Youtube!

Horymia: (Yes) This is looking to be a very funny romcom slice of life style anime, and seems to be a fairly good one! Had me laughing a lot. The Main couple are a nerdy quiet boy who’s actually dumb as a sack of bricks using his disheveled appearance to hide his tattoos and piercings, and a popular pretty girl who’s actually a total homebody. Their friends seem to have a lot of potential to be fleshed out as the series progresses and I look forward to seeing how it goes!

So I’m a Spider, So What?: (Yes) Whooo another isekai (excited)! This time a girl and her entire class!? Get isekai’d in a massive explosion. The main character reincarnates as a trash monster in a dungeon and must fight her way up the food chain just to survive. Meanwhile her friends who have mostly reincarnated as Cool Humans or the occasional elf or baby dragon, have mostly found each other, and want to figure out what happened/why and if they’re all okay. It’s genuinely pretty funny, though leans a little too hard sometimes on the gamey aspects of this new world. I think it may get darker as it goes along too.

Mushoku Tensei: (No) Whooo another isekai (derogatory). 34 yo old man gets reincarnated and uses his worldly experience to Learn Magic Fast and creep on his mom and prepubescent tutor. If you can stomach that stuff, it actually has a fair amount of potential? It did set itself up to touch on some interesting stuff down the road, but I’m kind of Over the horny toddler/young boy trope and it kinda just seems like the protagonist is Just Awesome At Everything but not in a remotely charming way.

Cells at Work Code Black: (Yes) If you liked Cells at Work, this is that but dingier, and is able to tackle some darker themes - like what stress, smoking, drinking, and probably eventually STDs can do to your body.

Kemono Jihen: (Yes) I don’t wanna explain TOO much about the plot of this one because it looks to be a mystery series, and the first episode sets it up the characters very very well. A man from the city is called to a rural town where animals are being mysteriously killed and found rotting. He’s tasked with finding and killing the perpetrator, assumed to be a monster of some kind. It does the horror very well, and even in the first episode manages some twistyness.

The Hidden Dungeon Only I Can Enter: (No) Even for a blatant fan service anime this one is just......... stupid. It might have a scrap of joy to it if the protagonist were anything other than a boring sycophant. His harem just all seems to be random girls who’s singular personality traits are to be in love with him in various stereotypical ways, that he just uses to min max his Cool Stats. But like, it’s not even self aware enough to make that into an interesting premise.

Sk8: (Yes) It’s a racing anime that seems super stylish and fun and very well animated. The protagonists have some cool chemistry already, and it really leans into the Underground Illegal Racing part of the fun - all the various characters who battle in death defying races through this abandoned mine, all have seemingly ordinary day jobs. Definitely worth a shot if that sounds up your alley.

Suppose a Kid from the Last Dungeon Boonies moved to a starter town?: (Probably) Okay so the premise is just there in the title and is actually pretty fun. Think: a random NPC who is considered pretty weak where the monsters are lv 50 moving somewhere where the monsters are scary at lv 5, shenanigans ensue. The MC boy is hilariously oblivious to the fact that anyone with a shred of sense can see he’s insanely over leveled to the area, and just trying to be nice and polite to everyone ^u^. The tentative nature of my recommendation is that it is kind of leaning harder on the Girls are Obsessed With Him train than is ideal. How much it depends on that as opposed to utilizing the premise to its fullest extent will have an enormous bearing on how fun the show is to watch going forward.

Ex-Arm: (Absolutely not but yes) It’s a fucking train wreck.

Heavens Design Team: (Yes) God decided to outsource creating animals to a team of angels, and works as a client giving weird ass requests for the angels to fill. Hilarity ensues, and it is peak edutainment to boot. It’s so much fun learning weird shit about animals, or trying to guess the animal these seemingly random train of failed attempts leads to.

Dr. Ramune -Mysterious Disease Specialist-: (No) It has a promising premise and some good moments. The main characters are solving these weird “diseases” that people get by finding the actual emotional cause and using magic of some kind to monkey paw it into a resolution. This could be really fun and interesting, but something about the execution just... falls flat? Like maybe it picks up as the season goes on but for now it’s not rly worth it.

Vlad Love: (Yes) I was going through the list of anime this season and was like wtf is this and literally just now watched episode 1. It’s about a girl with a blood donation kink and her vampire girlfriend. Literally. It’s rly funny and over the top ridiculous but like, gay vampires.

Back Arrow: (No) It’s like... fine. It’s about these two warring kingdoms surrounded by a wall with a mountain range between. They worship the wall as god, and occasionally get gifts from beyond it, in the form of mech suits they use to fight each other in. One day a boy shows up from beyond the wall in one of those suits and no memories of anything and he wants to get back. Which... could be promising I guess? But something about the show just didn’t grab my attention.

Skate-Leading Stars: (No) It’s like Yuri on ice if it was less gay and less well written I guess...? The first episode set up the Drama competently enough, but I just... couldn’t give a shit.

Project Scard: (No) For some reason part of Tokyo has been turned into a post apocalyptic hellscape where people just murder each other. They also have super powered tattoos and use them to fight each other. Animation is very similar to Handshakers - which is an Aesthetic that may not appeal to some. The first episode didn’t rly do much for me but I could see it going somewhere if it tries.

Wave!!: (No) Might have been a tentative yes if I hadn’t gone on and watched the second episode. First ep went hard with the queerbaiting cause they want to be the new Free! but with surfing, but Ep 2 just forgot all about that entirely. Dialogue is mostly boring and there’s like 3 sets, which becomes painfully obvious very quickly by ep 2.

Idoly Pride: (No) Literally looks like they ripped off the waifus of a bunch of other more popular anime and made an idol anime with the most basic ass idol plot. Nothing exceptional here.

Gekidol: (undecided) It’s an idol anime... set after a mysterious apocalyptic event? It’s mostly so far seemed intriguing as hell but not my jam. Mysterious craters destroyed parts of Japan, and its rebuilding and the MCs wanna bring light to the world. Maybe aliens exist? Idk! I’m intrigued.

I*Chu: (No) Another idol anime but this time it’s cute boys! Idk maybe this is a decent idol anime but it rly didn’t grab me and idol stuff isn’t usually my jam. I couldn’t tell anything exceptionally unique about this one from just the first episode.

WIXOSS Diva: (No, but) I don’t normally watch spin-offs of series but I didn’t realize until halfway into this that it was one cause Crunchyroll didn’t attach it to the core line. It’s like... magical girl battle idols in VR! Which honestly if you’re a fan of that it might actually be worth checking out.(edited)

Idolls!: (No) Another idol anime! But this one uses mocap 3d models. Phoned in plot line delivered by a weird tiki statue that tells the girls what to do. Seems extraordinarily low budget, and more just a way to sell music. The whole episode happened in a single set and  was basically just... girls want to make it big as idols... oh no... gotta book a stage! Yay they got one! Now must get an audience! Like... ok

Hortensia Saga: (No but) Sword and sorcery fantasy setting that’s mostly sword, main character is a princess masquerading as a male knight alongside the son of her dead parents’s also dead bodyguard. The first episode is very lore heavy and felt kinda like the prologue to a video game. So it ended up feeling a little expository and trope laden, but it has potential. Seems a bit Game of Thronesy? Wasn’t like... bad or anything, so if it’s your thing you might enjoy it.

Otherside Picnic: (Yes) I think it’s gay first of all, two girls going exploring / treasure hunting / monster hunting in a bizarre mirror world to their own. Girls are cute, it’s very interesting premise and writing seems solid.

Wonder Egg Priority: (Yes) It deals with some HEAVY themes? But it’s... a bit of a psychological horror but in a way that feels very like it’s dealing with some of the real life issues. The main character girl comes across as neurodivergent, and it’s just... idk man the first episode was good and left me wanting more.

[quillfulwriter]

The Distraction: FFXV Iggy’s Birthday Fic

Prompto's in on a surprise party for Ignis, and he's been tasked with being the distraction. It's harder than he thought, but he won't let the guys down! (Forgive the Promnis vibes, I'm trash for them.)

Words: 3073 words (10-25 minutes) | Chocobros

This was it, the big day for their surprise party for Specs... Prompto was in charge of being a distraction, probably the hardest job of the whole thing. He tried telling the others that, but they swore up and down that he could do it, no problem. Riding in the passenger seat next to Iggy like usual, Prompto figured out that was probably because they didn’t wanna do it. Not ‘cause hanging with Iggy was bad or anything, but keeping him distracted when he was designed for laser-like focus was gonna be the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.

He convinced Ignis to take him along to the Crown City mall half by saying he wanted to check out some places and half by saying he should learn what Ignis does for Noct, so he could be a backup if he needs it. And that only worked by stocking up Iggy points with little favors to make his job easier. Y’know, to prove he could be a good backup!

Which was kinda part of his day-to-day anyway. Iggy worked so hard doing stuff for them all the time, and Gladio and Noct didn’t really do that whole ‘helping with dinner’ thing. But hey, that’s what made it such a good cover story!

“We’ve arrived,” Ignis announced and the doors automatically locked once he put the car in park. The morning sun gave a little extra warmth to the winter air, but he couldn’t complain about the cold when it meant Ignis broke out his sharp, double-breasted wool peacoat. All his friends were supermodels, but he had to give it to Ig, he looked extra good dressed for cold weather. Like the Six knew it when they set his birthday in stone.

“Gotcha,” Prompto answered, springing out of the car with his camera around his neck. Just in case! Never know when you’ll see a shot you just got to take, and it was a great reason to draw out their trip if he had to. Ignis always stopped to wait when Prompto wanted to take pictures, and he was pretty patient about it too.

And really, Prompto was banking on that. They still had to decorate, put the gifts together, make a cake… And they hadn’t even started wrapping yet. Leaving all that to Noct and the big guy felt like a recipe for disaster, but all he could do now was his part. Going at a light jog to keep up with Iggy’s longer, purposeful stride, Prompto followed him into the Crown City mall.

“So! What’s our first stop?” There wasn’t much of a crowd, since it was mid-week. No luck there. Just made Prompto think about how he wished there was more color in their uniform.

“We’ll be visiting just the one shop: a specialty dining store,” Ignis answered and led the way. “There are certain cooking instruments designed for the road that will prove essential on our journey.”

“Hey, Iggy!” Prompto raced ahead of him, eager to get started ‘cause this was gonna eat up hours. …Okay, maybe one hour. For his first distraction, Prompto picked up a cup-like thing with a little curve for pouring, some weird plunger thing, and measuring lines on the side. Turning around with a bounce in his step, he showed the tool to Ignis. “What’s this gadget do?”

“Hm?” Ignis strode over to the table Prompto picked out. Even here, he did the driving and pushed the cart along too. There was a lotta stuff here he didn’t recognize, so Prompto had plenty of ammo to keep his attention. “Ah, that is a milk frother, primarily used for lattes and other such beverages where foam is a key part of the experience.”

“Right, right. Y’know, I’ve never had a latte.” He put the frother down by the others, twisting it so it’d match its family of frothers before he took off after Ignis. “Think you could use it in hot chocolate?”

“You certainly can. I’ll show you sometime.” Ignis had a hint of a smile as he wound artfully through the rows and rows of cooking stuff that was either high-end normal stuff or specialty stuff.

“That’d be real sweet of you,” Prompto shot back a pun, giggling while he followed after Ignis.

Maybe if he wasn’t so caught up looking at grills, Iggy might’ve given as good as he got. Probably better, he did a lot more reading than Prom and that gave him more material to work with. Comparing little portable grills to each other with wordless hums and silent notetaking on his phone, Prompto was pretty sure he could do a dance and get nothing from the royal advisor. Or just a quick glance, anyway.

“Hey, uh, Igster,” Prompto ventured an interruption when he looked just about done. “Isn’t this thing just a slab of salt?” He held up a swirled dark and light pink rectangle about two or three inches thick labelled with just ‘mineral salt block’ on the side.

“It is far more than that.” Ignis finished up a note on his phone, picking up a boxed version of the grill he settled on and put it in the cart. “That is for grilling or stovetop cooking for the right stove, and it imparts a lightly salty flavor with the various health benefits of its mineral composition to—” Ignis sighed, picking up on the overwhelmed look on Prompto’s face. Probably. “It’s good for the food and for those who eat it.”

“Ah, gotcha. So Noct’d hate it, huh? Too healthy.” He put the block down, smiling at Ignis’ laugh.

“It doesn’t feature the same textural concerns Noct has with beans, but… I suspect you may be correct.”

Of course Prom got a text right then, and he hoped it was Gladio or Noct saying everything was fine and ready to go. Pulling his phone out of his pocket with only a little extra flair, he brought up the message from Noctis.

Need more time.

Only one way to answer that. Tossing in an exasperated emoji, he sent back just what he thought of that.

y tho

And the picture he got from Noct was so depressing, it was truly a loss for mankind. What was once gold cake was a bit more brown-and-black-ish, and big chunks of it were still stuck on the pan while the rest was somewhere off-frame. Uh, he hoped.

Noooooct

Thank Gladio.

smh how much time u need

A few seconds turned to a minute and Prompto kept checking his screen every few minutes before Ignis finally spoke up.

“Prompto, do pay attention,” he advised.

“Right, gotcha.” Pockets his phone for the last time. Left on read by Noct! If it wasn’t for Iggy’s birthday, he’d be in for a parade of emojis until Prompto got an answer. Or maybe not, but it sounded kinda fun to do. Trotting to catch up to Ignis again, he started up conversation. “So, you do all this by yourself?”

“Typically, yes,” he answered, though he sounded pleased rather than put out. Even looked the part smirking like that when he pushed up his glasses. “Gladio has little patience for it and Noctis has other responsibilities. It’s only natural this should be entrusted to me.”

“Yeah, but on your birthday?” Oops. He was so not supposed to say that, and Prompto’s stilted laugh when he figured out his slip-up didn’t do anything to throw Ignis off his scent. He even stopped to look at Prompto, examining him for answers. Or maybe it just felt like that and Prompto was worrying too much! He just to chill like Noct said to. Yeah, just… chill.

“I didn’t realize you knew.”

“Yeah, well, y’know.” Crap, he was very un-chill right now. Prompto shrugged, eyeing the shelves next to him for a way out of this conversation. “Noct brought it up, and I guess it stuck.” Gotta find a distraction and quick. It’d just buy time, Iggy’d never forget a slip-up like that, but time was all he needed. Prompto snatched up a waffle iron at the end of a really long stick from a display by the camping stuff. “Oh em gee, check this out! Waffles at camp, can you imagine?”

“If you’re willing to make them one at a time,” he teased with that slight smile, turning back to push the cart ahead. That’s right, Iggy, focus on the to-do list and forget that little blunder from Prompto.

“Aw, I’d never keep up with the big guy,” he mourned, dejectedly returning the specialty cookware to its box and catching up to the birthday guy again.

“Indeed not.”

After gathering the rest of their supplies in preparation for the coming trip in the warmer weather, Ignis checked off the final item in his phone.

“And that concludes our shopping for the time being.” The cart was expertly packed just so everything fit in and was even sorted for putting on the belt in an orderly fashion at checkout. Seriously, Ignis’ brain should be melting from all the stuff he thought ahead on. But Prompto was keeping up with him for now, anyway—maybe he really could be halfway-decent at this back-up thing.

“Really? You do a ton, but you really make it look easy. And that’s not just flattery to distract you, I mean it!” Dammit, he was getting bad at this. Thankfully, Ignis pretended not to notice it. Probably. He doubted he really didn’t realize. Ignis, miss something? Next, it’d rain ice cream!

“I should thank you.” With the last item rung through checkout (Prompto didn’t even dare to look at the total), it was as good a time as any, but so weird. Yeah, Prompto got it, he’d do the same if he were Iggy, but… He laughed, shrugging it off. Like always, Ignis kept going undaunted. “As much as I don’t anticipate I’ll need a substitute for my duty to Noctis, it never hurts to be prepared.”

“Hey, uh. No problem! Least I can do, really.” Prompto was spared being even more awkward somehow when Ignis gave his attention to checkout. Plus, it got him a second to text Noct without spectacles maybe seeing what he was up to if he didn’t figure it out yet.

omw home

Not yet.

Prompto let out a groan, slumping in defeat. The shopping trip was over, Noct! What now?

“Stocking the cart might go more smoothly if your hands were free.” Uh oh, that was the informative warning tone. Ignis was audio-coded to hint at what he was thinking and Prompto was getting a code yellow.

“Uh, right.” Putting his phone away, he helped moved the grill and cooking stuff he didn’t exactly recognize into the cart. They were almost done and Prompto blurted out his only idea before he had a chance to think about it enough to stop. “Actually, wanna go someplace cool after this?”

“Pardon?”

“Y’know, ‘cause it’s your birthday! There’s guys who can take this stuff back to the castle, yeah?” He really hoped Ignis would buy this. He couldn’t be the one who screwed up and ruined the surprise, the guys were counting on him! “Isn’t there a place you’ve always wanted to check out, but never got to?”

“Not especially,” Ignis answered after a brief pause. That mildly wide-eyed look was way too caught off guard… Could it be Iggy never thought about stuff he wanted to do before? Seriously? Prompto wanted to not believe it, but with all the stuff he’s always doing for everyone else under the sun, it’s, y’know… Possible. If not super likely.

“Then I’ll show you around. C’mon, it’s just one day, not even. Two hours.” Ignis pulled the cart to the side and out of the way, which wasn’t a yes but it wasn’t a no yet either. He could still get away with this! Prompto flashed the smile that usually worked on Noct, tossing in an eager bounce to cover his bases. “Birthday trip? Birthday trip!”

“There’s snow outside, Prompto.” This answer was just a little bit weaker, not reinforced with the typical Ignis brand crisp certainty that came with every sentence. And what kinda sharpshooter would he be if he didn’t take this opening?

“So? We’ve got boots.” Prompto bent his knee and held one foot up like he needed to demonstrate. Paired with the grin, he could tell—he was winning this round.

“I have to return to the castle for dinner preparation.” Ignis’ gaze darted to the shop windows and the city guard posted outside. The ones that could take all this back to the castle for them and buy the guys some time before Iggy came back.

“How’s this—you go on the birthday trip you so deserve, let me take a couple cool shoots to remember it by, and I’ll help make dinner.” He offered his hand to Ignis, leaning into his field of vision to get his attention. “Deal?”

With a sigh and a signal the guards outside, Ignis gave in. “Very well.”

“Woohoo! You’re not gonna regret it.”

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After their side trip, they had to get someone to give them a ride and man, was it weird to have Ignis riding in the back seat of a car next to Prompto in calm quiet. Not a bad, awkward quiet—he was so used to those—but chill. He was usually in front too so Gladio could get the extra leg room, so at least being next to Iggy was just like always. Prompto dug out his phone again, sending one last warning text. They’d gotten another hour or hour and a half outta this, he hoped they figured it out.

omw 4 real

“When you said cool pictures, I hadn’t thought you meant literally on the ice.” Ignis only just glanced his way, his face still slightly red from spending time in the cold February air.

“Hey, that pond is a prime photo op!” He slipped his phone into his pocket, swapping it out for his camera. “Check it out,” he offered, bringing up a photo of Ignis in the light, warm glow of the late afternoon winter sun glittering off the ice, a faint plume of his breath in front of him and a delicate blush to his cheeks. Say what you want about the royal advisor, but it’d better be a compliment—he was gorgeous. “My best one yet.”

“Oh, so you collect them?”

“Ah, well, y’see, I—” Shoot. The car was slowing down and he caught a peek of the castle entrance. Thank the Six! “I take pictures of all you guys, yeah? Hey, look, we’re here!” Shuffling out his side, half-stumbling out, Prompto fled to safety. Almost over, this was the home stretch!

-----------

“They keep falling!”

“And whose fault is that?” Familiar voices reached Ignis and Prompto as they worked their way back to one of the smaller, casual family dining rooms in the castle.

“The tape.” Ah, classic Noct. Ignis turned to Prompto with a questioning brow and he just smiled back, nodding him to go first. Nothing left to hide now! Ignis pulled the door open and stepped into the room, which… kinda looked like elementary schoolers decorated it, but hey. Not everyone was a perfect party coordinator like Iggy.

“Gladio? Noctis.” Was that disbelief or patient warnings at the sight of lopsided streamers hanging all the way over to Noctis, who stood on a chair taping the last corner up. For the millionth time, from the sounds of it. Mostly decently wrapped presents sat on one end of the elegant dining table and at the other were three whole separate two-layer cakes and enough fancy takeout for a family of six. “What is…?”

“Happy birthday, Specs,” Noctis said, smiling as he stepped down from the chair and came over with Gladio.

“Didn’t think we forgot, did you?” Gladio clapped his hand on Ignis’ shoulder, his too-perfect smile coming as naturally as ever. Maybe a little more, even.

“I… Suppose this was what the escapades were all about,” he remarked, glancing back at Prompto.

“Whoa, three cakes?!” Gotta change that subject, Ignis, they didn’t know about any escapades! It was just supposed to be errands. But it was their fault he had to draw it out, wasn’t it? Chill, Prompto—chill. “All this food… I’m just gonna have to run more tomorrow.”

“After running around all day today too,” Gladio joked, thankfully getting the hint. Probably.

“What’s this about escapades?” Noct was not so merciful, and that is why Gladio got all the ladies, Prompto thought to himself. Okay, yeah, it was always great to see him smile, just—not at Prompto’s expense!

“Hey, you guys told me to keep him busy!”

“And you did very well. I haven’t been ice skating since Noctis was a boy and that pond was rather scenic.” Ignis to the rescue even on his birthday, what a saint. He did fall into a thoughtful silence, looking like he was trying to find life’s answers in the present pile. “Though I had figured you out by then, of course. I am curious why you kept me preoccupied for so much longer than necessary.”

“Gladio wrecked the cake.”

“Okay, Princess,” he dismissed. “Told you to set the timer.”

“And I told you I was busy.”

“Never heard you.”

“Getting old already,” Noctis said like he was in mourning, giving as good as he got and ducking out of a headlock from Gladio by just a hair. He’d better be faster than Gladio after all that childhood of training with him.

“Regardless of the kitchen mishaps I’ll contend with later,” Ignis got their attention back. “Thank you. I admit, I am at a loss for what else I might say.”

“No big deal,” Noctis answered, obviously proud of himself. “You could start by having dinner. I’m dying to try these skewers,” he suggested, leading the way to the meal.

“Speaking of that, I do believe Prompto owes me a standing offer to help with dinner.” Ignis picked up his own plate and shot Prompto a smile. “An awfully easy suggestion when you know there’s takeout on the table, hm?”

“You don’t have to resort to birthday blackmail, dude. I got your back,” Prompto promised. And snagged a plate of his own, he had to get to this food before the big guy got it all. “Still, though. Uh, happy birthday, Ignis.”

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