#couldn't figure it out so i'm blatantly ignoring it

[mezzmerizd]

Still not okay about DM Tango btw, especially because I keep thinking about his & Zed's interactions D:

My (current, might be swapped out in a heartbeat tbh) interpretation of what happened between s8 Tango and s9 DM Tango is that the code somehow fucked up? Like the players can't thrive without the context of the code recognizing them as such. It's the god-like force in this instance, granting immortality in the sense of being able to respawn (this also ties into my netherborn headcanons / a bit of my personal super-indulgent Tango & Impulse backstories but that's for another day).

So, as much as the people themselves are just. Them. Even if the server / code get a bit fuzzy, that doesn't usually affect them. Buuut with Tango's signals to the server being a little.. wonky (due to being pre-emptively yoinked out of the system due to his spacey perma-death in s8) Xisuma pulls him out of usual shenanigans after a while to try and fix what's happening.

Yadda yadda yadda, doesn't really work, but with Tango's consent Xisuma let's the server try to check Tango for errors itself. How you'd do when a program gives you error codes about files missing. And, as those programs also have, Xisuma lets the server try to fix the problems too. Badabing badaboom- Code's no longer blinking red!! But Tango's not like.. fully there for a few days. He's a little hazy, but gets let off by Xisuma and sent back into the mix of hermits. Everyone's kept up to date to keep an eye on him if the chance arises and that's mostly that.

For every message and, well, little joke Zed sends his way he doesn't really get a response- or not a usual one, anyway. Tango seems.. oddly cold, in a literal and metaphorical sense. Zedaph's a busy man, but he sure as hell wouldn't pass on the opportunity to at least say hi to Tango when he's got the time. Especially not with Tango asking for his help with things!! There's an odd hint of glee in Tango's eyes and grin when Zed respawns after dying to a ravager, but he's still too filled with adrenaline to not giggle about it himself.

And oh the Dungeon Lackey run... the first time Zed really could get ahold of Tango for a good while, and he's finally given a chance to enjoy the theatrics and banter again, not giving any worry the time of day to start popping up. He's taking what he's given of crumbs and he'll enjoy them blindfolded if need be.

[slu7formen]

luke castellan x fem!reader

Luke’s had a crush on you for longer than he can remember, and after Chris decided to play one sided cupid, he decides to ask you out.

warnings: use of yn, kinda shy!luke and loser!luke but we love it <3, fluff

₊˚⊹♡

Luke led Percy, the new kid, through the dusty maze of Camp Half-Blood. Percy peppered Luke with questions once in a while. "So, who are those hulking dudes with Clarisse?" Percy asked.

Luke chuckled. "Those are the Ares kids, her half-brothers. But don’t worry, they're all bark and no bite... actually, they do bite."

As they rounded a corner, the sounds of clashing metal and grunts reached their ears. Luke stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze snagging on a particular figure in the training field.

There, bathed in sunlight, you were training. Your form, clad in the simple camp T-shirt and shorts, moved with the fluid grace of a warrior dancer. Every swing of your practice sword, every parry, was a testament to your skills that stood out. Your hair whipped around your face as you disarmed your opponent with a swift kick.

Percy, oblivious to Luke's sudden paralysis, glanced between him and the scene playing out on the field. "Who's that?" he asked, curiosity creasing his brow.

Luke cleared his throat, trying to dispel the sudden fog clouding his brain. "That's-, uh, yn" Luke stammered, his voice rougher than usual. “Aphrodite´s kid. Don´t let her looks fool you, though. She´s a hell of a warrior”

Percy nodded, but his gaze remained firmly on you. You were now sheathing your celestial bronze sword, a bead of sweat clinging to your temple. As you reached for a nearby water flask, you brushed the hair from your face, the gesture casual yet captivating.

Luke found himself staring again, just like he does every time he looks at you from afar, mesmerized by the way the sunlight seemed to follow your tiniest movements. He was so lost in the moment that he barely registered the volleyball hurtling towards him.

"Yo, Luke! Catch!" someone yelled. Luke, still mesmerized, couldn't react in time. The ball connected with a resounding thump right in his gut.

He doubled over with a groan, clutching his stomach. A familiar chuckle reached his ears as Chris strolled over containing a hysterical laugh.

"Sorry man, had to snap you out of that trance" Chris said with a smack to Luke’s back.

Luke's face burned hotter. He hadn't realized how blatantly obvious he'd been. Straightening up, he attempted to mask his flustered expression. "Shut up, I wasn't in a trance" he retorted, his voice a shade higher than usual.

“You totally were” Chris poked him playfully. “You are every time you look at her.”

“Okay, okay” Luke swatted Chris’s hand away, “stop touching me.”

Chris, ignoring his protests, squeezed his arm with mock sympathy. “Aw, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,—”

"When did the mighty Luke Castellan become all weak and whiny for a girl?" Chris teased, playfully tousling Luke's hair.

Luke swatted his hand away again. "Hey! I'm not—!"

“Hey” a causal feminine voice cut him off.

Luke freezes. You stood mere inches away, your smile widening at the sight of his flustered expression. "H-hey" he managed, his voice barely confident, and shaky.

Chris stifled a snort, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. Luke shot him a withering glare, silently pleading for him to cut it out.

“You alright?” you ask, "I saw the, uh..." You paused, gesturing vaguely with your hand in the direction of Chris. "The volleyball-, greeting?" you ask, a confused but fun expression on your face.

"Yeah, I'm fine" he offered, his voice strained. "Just a love tap, I guess." Another pointed glance in Chris' direction revealed him struggling for composure.

"Looks like you're busy" you said, your gaze flickering to Percy, who stood awkwardly to the side. You offered him a warm smile.

"Right, yeah" Luke stammered, finally managing to tear his gaze away from you. He remembered Percy standing awkwardly beside him. "Percy, this is yn, Aprhrodite´s cabin" he gestured towards you, his voice regaining a semblance of normalcy. "yn, this is Percy, the new camper."

"Nice to meet you" you greeted him, your voice laced with a kindness that put Percy instantly at ease.

"Nice to meet you too" Percy stammered back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"You're lucky," you continued, turning back to Luke, your eyes sparkling. "Luke’s the best counselor around, especially for new campers."

Luke felt a familiar heat rise in his cheeks at your praise. He always struggled with compliments, especially when they came from you. "Ah, don't listen to her" he stammered, deflecting awkwardly.

"Oh, don't be so humble" you teased, your playful tone sending shivers down his spine. "You know you are. You helped me out a lot when I was new."

Your words hung in the air, causing another wave of warmth to flood his cheeks. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. But he forced himself to focus, so he turned to Percy. "yn's always around the training field," he began, his voice a touch higher than normal. "So if you ever need a sparring partner or just someone to answer questions, you can find her here."

You raised an eyebrow playfully. "Coming from 'Best Swordsman' himself" you said, a teasing lilt in your voice.

His cheeks burned even hotter, but a genuine chuckle escaped his lips. "Alright," he conceded, his lips curving into a small, charming smile. "that might be true."

"Humble much?" Chris chimed in, ever the opportunist. He tossed the ball towards Luke's head, light and playful.

Luke turned around to Chris, “Dude” he calls. He hears your slight giggle from behind.

"Well, I gotta get back to training" you sighed, a hint of regret in your voice. You turned towards Percy, your smile warm and genuine. "Percy, if you ever need anything and Luke's not around, you can just look for me, okay?"

Percy, still a bit overwhelmed by the new environment, managed a hesitant nod. "Okay, thanks" he mumbled, a shy smile gracing his features.

"I'll see you around then" you chirped, offering him a final wave of encouragement. "Good luck with everything, alright?" As you turned to walk away, with a final glance towards Luke over your shoulder, a hint of something unspoken lingering in your eyes. "Bye, Luke."

The simple farewell hung in the air long after you'd disappeared. Chris nudged Luke's arm with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "You're so into her, man" he declared, barely containing his smile.

Luke groaned. "Shut up" he muttered, his voice betraying a hint of amusement.

They continued walking. "I mean it! You were practically stuttering" Chris exclaimed, his voice laced with mock horror as he reenacted Luke's awkward greeting. "'Uh, h-hi yn, uh-, y-yeah, I'm camp's best swordsman'"

"Okay, I do not act like that" Luke protested, his voice laced with mock indignation. He glanced down at Percy, a playful glint in his eyes. "Help me out here. Do I really talk like that?"

"Well," he admitted with a shrug, "maybe a little."

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. He playfully shoved Chris, who burst into fresh laughter. "See!" Chris crowed. "Even new kids thinks you’re like a lovesick puppy around her."

Luke shot a playful glare at Percy. "Don't listen to him, he’s full of crap” he muttered, though a hint of a smile played on his lips.

"Seriously, though," Chris continued, his voice turning serious for a moment. "Just ask her out already. She'll say yes."

Luke hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. "I don't know, man" he trailed off, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Chris slung an arm around Luke's shoulder. "Dude, you've been practically drooling over her since forever. And trust me, she's totally noticed. You gotta take a chance. Besides, I have a feelings she feels the same way." Chris added. He suddenly launched into a dramatic impersonation, his voice taking on a high-pitched tone. "'Oh, bye Luke,' " he whined, twirling a nonexistent strand of hair around his finger and swaying his hips in a comical exaggeration. "'He's the best counselor at camp, oh! He helped me sooo much!'"

Luke cringed, his face burning a mixture of laughter and embarrassment. "Okay, that´s enough". Chris's words, though delivered in a ridiculous way, struck a chord within Luke. He looked down at his shoes, suddenly feeling doubtful. "I just don't know..." he mumbled, the confidence Chris had tried to instill in him wavering. "What if she says no?"

Chris stopped his antics, his playful grin softening into a reassuring smile. He patted Luke on the back. "What if she says yes?" he countered. "Stop overthinking it, man. Go for it."

Luke chuckled, the sound laced with a hint of nervousness. Chris's teasing, although annoying, had pushed him to confront his feelings. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and met Chris's gaze.

"Fine, fine" he conceded. "I'll give it a shot. But if she says no," he warned, his voice laced with seriousness, "I'm blaming it all on you."

Chris threw his head back and roared with laughter. "The risk I'm willing to take for you, my friend"

Luke shoved him playfully, a grin plastered on his face. "Yeah, yeah, now scoot," he urged, gesturing towards the direction Chris had come from. "I gotta keep showing Percy around."

Chris mock saluted him. "Aye aye, Captain! Good luck!" he chirped, throwing a wink Luke's way before sauntering off, leaving him alone with Percy.

A blush crept up Luke's neck as he turned back to Percy. "Sorry about that" he mumbled, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, he was sure a twelve year old wasn’t entirely interested in Luke’s love interest.

Percy didn’t seem to care. "Honestly," he admitted, "that's the most normal thing I've witnessed today. So," he continued, his curiosity piqued, "what's next?"

The flickering firelight danced across Luke's face, casting long, flickering shadows as he stared intently into the flames. He wasn't really seeing or listening anything around him – his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and anxieties, all centered around you.

All day, he’s had you on his mind, a constant reminder of the decision he'd almost made. Since that first glimpse of you years ago by the lake, you'd become a captivating melody in the symphony of his life. Unlike other Aphrodite children, rumored to be arrogant or aloof, you possessed a genuine warmth that never failed to draw him in. Braiding little girls' hair with a gentle smile, your actions were a window into your kind soul.

It had been a long day, filled with his usual camp duties and a nagging restlessness that he couldn't quite shake. Chris's words echoed in his head, a constant reminder of the decision he still hadn't made. Should he really take a chance? Could you possibly be interested in him?

A deep sigh escaped his lips. He glanced up, his gaze drawn towards the sound of laughter that sent a familiar shiver down his spine. There you were, surrounded by your friends. Your face glowed in the warm light, illuminated by the cheerful flames that danced around you.

A sudden sense of purpose washed over him. He couldn't stay silent anymore. But a fresh wave of fear washed over him too, as he considered the setting. Here, surrounded by campers that could hear, was hardly the ideal place to confess his feelings.

He stood up, sticking a marshmallow to the end of the stick he was holding and walked closer to the fire. And he stood there, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter, his mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. Just as he was about to convince himself to wait for another opportunity, a soft footstep beside him startled him out of his thoughts. He kept his eyes trained on the fire, afraid to look up, afraid his nervousness would be telegraphed in his gaze.

Because he knew, it was you.

A small, shy smile played on your lips as you looked at him, your eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "Hey," you said softly. "You okay?"

Your sudden presence sent a jolt through Luke. His heart, already hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs, stuttered in its beat. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to appear composed.

"Yeah, I'm alright" he managed, his voice a touch hoarse. "Just needed a little distraction."

He turned slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. The firelight danced in your eyes, casting playful shadows across your face. He found himself mesmerized, lost in the warmth of your smile and the depths of your gaze.

"Too many counselor duties?" you teased gently.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, the sound laced with a nervous tension. "Can get pretty tough sometimes, you know" he admitted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Responsibility and all that."

He turned back to you, his eyes meeting yours again. This time, he held the gaze a beat longer, the air crackling with a sudden, unspoken energy. He felt himself drawn to you, captivated by the beauty of your features.

"I understand" you whisper. There was a subtle shift in your posture, a subtle lean closer that mirrored his own. "How's Percy doing?" you asked, changing the subject, leaning your own marshmallow into the fire.

"He's holding up well" Luke responded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Just, like everyone does when we arrive here."

You breathed out a small smile. "That's good to hear." A moment of comfortable silence followed, broken only by the crackling fire and the occasional chirp of crickets. “Any ideas on who his father might be?" you finally asked, your voice filled with curiosity.

Luke pondered your question, his gaze flickering between the flames and your inquisitive face. "Honestly, no clue yet" he admitted, shaking his head slightly. "He doesn't quite fit in with any of the cabins. But we'll figure it out."

"Poor kid" you murmured, a flicker of sympathy crossing your features. "I really hope he doesn't end up unclaimed."

As if sensing the shift in mood, Luke shifted his position, his body turning slightly more towards you. The warmth of your presence radiated beside him.

"Don't worry" he said softly. "He'll be alright. We'll make sure of it."

You nodded silently, blowing gently on your marshmallow to cool it down a little. The playful banter had momentarily distracted you from the nervous tension that had been building in Luke's chest.

A playful smirk tugged at Luke's lips. "Actually," he began, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, "he reminds me a little bit of you."

Your head snapped up, a surprised laugh escaping your lips. "What? Why?"

He chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "I don't know," he feigned contemplation, drawing out the suspense before shrugging lightly. "He just gives off the same 'new and confused' vibe you had when you first arrived at camp." He says, "And," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "he seems to have a knack for getting himself into trouble just like a certain someone I know."

You swatted him lightly on the arm, a playful frown creasing your forehead. "Hey" you exclaimed, feigning offense. "When did I ever get myself into trouble?"

Luke scoffed. "Oh, come on, don't be so modest" he countered, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I still remember how you managed to get into that fight with that Ares kid."

"Well, he wouldn't leave me alone" you mumbled, your voice laced with a hint of defiance. "Someone had to teach him a lesson."

“And your solution was to throw Pegasus' shit at him?" he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Well," you stammered, trying to defend yourself, but the vividness of the memory left little room for argument. "Yeah, okay" you finally admitted with a small defeated voice.

Luke shook his head in mock disapproval, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you" he joked, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"No one's asking you to stay" you countered playfully, returning his teasing smile. "You're free to leave anytime."

Luke's laugh filled the air once more, a welcome sound that calmed the nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Wouldn't dream of it" he replied, his voice turning a touch softer. And he didn’t mean to say it, but it came out unwarranted. He met your gaze, holding it for a beat longer than usual.

You noticed the shift in his demeanor, a subtle change. You let out a small, nervous chuckle, breaking eye contact and turning your gaze back towards the dancing flames.

Luke couldn't help but notice your nervous gesture, but instead of taking it as a sign of rejection, he interpreted it as a reaction to his own sudden boldness, even though his heart was down his ass.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to take the plunge. There was no turning back now. "Hey," he began softly, his voice barely a whisper above the crackling fire. "Can I ask you something?"

You met his gaze, a nervous flutter in your stomach mirrored by the rapid beat of your heart. Tentatively, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a self-conscious gesture that only accentuated your beauty in Luke's eyes.

"Yeah, sure" you replied.

Luke cleared his throat again, trying to mask the nervous tremor in his voice. "I, uh," he stammered, "I-, I was wondering if you... would like to go out with me? Sometime?"

The nervousness in his voice was impossible to miss, but it was the spark of hope in his eyes that truly captured your attention. You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for him. There he was, this strong, capable counselor, reduced to a blushing mess in front of you.

At that moment, the world around him seemed to fade away. All that existed was you. The oversized grey sweatshirt you wore hung loosely on your frame, making you appear smaller, more vulnerable. Even without makeup, your beauty was undeniable, a captivating mix of strength and softness that had him completely enthralled.

You looked at him. Silence stretched between you, thick with anticipation. Luke held his breath, his palms slick with nervous sweat. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your answer.

Then, slowly, the corners of your lips began to curve upwards. A smile. A genuine, radiant smile that lit up your entire face and sent a wave of warmth through him.

Luke's heart leaped in his chest, but before he could react, a soft laugh escaped your lips. The sound washed over him, chasing away his anxieties and replacing them with a soaring sense of elation. The blush creeping up your cheeks confirmed it – he wasn't imagining it.

He rushed to speak, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I know that-, this is something you're kinda used to" he stammered, his voice laced with nervousness. "Getting asked out, I mean. It's just... I don't know, I- you-"

He stopped mid-sentence, frustration causing him to sigh in defeat. He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering a defeated, "Shit" under his breath. Which only made you laugh harder.

It was like a symphony to his ears. He couldn't help but smile back, even with the butterflies doing a frantic tap dance in his stomach. "Sorry" he mumbled sheepishly.

"Don't – don't be sorry” you chuckled, waving your hand dismissively. "You're good." The laughter subsided, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. But to Luke's anxious mind, the silence stretched into an eternity, filled with the dread of having somehow messed this whole thing up.

Just as despair threatened to engulf him, you spoke. "Yes" you said, your voice soft but firm. "I'd love to."

Luke stared at you, momentarily speechless. His brain, overloaded with disbelief and unexpected joy, struggled to form a coherent response.

"Really?" he finally managed. It was a question loaded with disbelief and pure, unadulterated happiness.

"Yeah" you laughed, nodding your head as if he'd asked the most ridiculous and obvious question. "When?" you countered, playfully turning the tables on him.

"Uh..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in a fluster. "Shit, sorry," he stammered again. "I just – I didn't think you'd actually say yes, so I haven't really thought that far ahead." His confession only made you laugh harder.

A nervous laugh escaped Luke's lips as he ran a hand through his hair. Honestly, he couldn't believe his own luck.

"I'll give you some time to think about it if you want” you said, your voice laced with amusement and comfort.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. That sounds good" he stammered, his flustered response betraying the excitement bubbling over in his chest.

The comfortable silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the crackling fire and the occasional pop of a burning marshmallow. You both seemed content to simply bask in the warmth of the fire and the newfound connection you shared.

Just as Luke was about to break the comfortable silence, a voice cut through the air. "Hey, yn!" a familiar voice called out.

You turned your head towards the sound, a smile gracing your lips. "Right, uh..." you trailed off, turning back to Luke. "I gotta get back."

A brief pang of disappointment shot through Luke, but it was quickly overshadowed by the excitement bubbling within him.

"Go ahead” he replied with a smirk. "Don't keep her waiting."

You took a step back, but before turning to leave, you locked eyes with him.

"Don't keep me waiting" you said, your voice soft but firm.

The playful challenge in your words sent a new wave of butterflies fluttering in his stomach and lower.

A bigger smile stretched across Luke's face as he watched you walk away, the firelight casting a warm glow on your figure. "I won't”.

[etherealily]

𝕊𝕀ℕ // ​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​

No one seemed to like the cliffhanger, so here's a draft that i converted into a makeshift part 6.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. NSFW. Drugs. Contains brief explicit content.

Part 1 : Whiplash Part 2 : 9 Lives Part 3 : Blessed Part 4 : Shards Part 5 : Eighteen

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

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Nate had never been more pissed in his life. Ever. You'd blatantly disobeyed him. Well, not technically. No technically, you hadn't been told anything, but he'd have figured you weren't so dense as to go and visit Shane motherfucking Crestin in the motherfucking ER !

Honestly. It's like you had one braincell and all it told you was to piss him off.

And fuck him. He definitely saw that in your eyes the last time.

Or was that the molly?

Probably the molly.

But whatever. The fact was, you wanted to fuck him, and he wanted to fuck you, and he had no idea why you wanted him out of your life if that was the case. Wasn't that fate? Two people want something so bad, they should end up doing it, no? Not going and visiting the reason they couldn't do it in the ER.

Yeah, he decided.

Yes. They. Should.

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He'd figured you would avoid him like the plague, anyway. So he didn't care if it reached you or not that he was helping McKay host a party. So imagine his surprise when, after about two months of no contact, you showed up at his party.

"Whoa."

You frowned. "Excuse me?'

"What happened to 'get the fuck out of my life, Nate?' What, were you just full of it?"

"Dude. If me being here bothers you that much, I'll just fucking leav-"

"Jeez, don't be a baby, short stuff.", he cooed, patting your head before slinging an arm around you. "C'mon, let's do shots."

"Hey, whoa, whoa, none of this friendliness."

He rolled his eyes, removing his hand from you. "Fine. C'mon. I missed you."

And the problem was, he did. He actually fucking missed you. Which was the weirdest thing to happen to him since... well, birth. It wasn't anything in particular, it wasn't even the fact that you were easy on the eyes.

He, like a fucking simp, just liked you being around him.

With as much trepidation as a sycophant scorned by his master, he gently, reverently, offered you a shot. "For old times' sake?"

You rolled your eyes, taking it from him. "For old times' sake? Like, the time you got me drunk at school?'

He smiled, his hand slowly back around your shoulder as he tugged you closer, kissing your temple. "We could always go back, y'know?", he murmured next to your ear. "Get high on the bleachers again."

"No."

"C'mon, we haven't hung out in two months. Ditch these fakes. I'm the fun one, anyway."

Jesus.

He took a long drag of his vape, the smoke bombarding your face. He proferred it to you and frowned when you declined. "Why not?"

"I don't vape."

"Are you one of those bitches that says 'smoke a real cigarette'?"

"No, I don't smoke at all."

He rolled his eyes. "We're going to the bleachers."

It was weird, to say the least, the air between you two back at the bleachers. You sat, looking up at the sky, the grass, anywhere but his eyes, and he sat with his head on your lap.

Silence covered the two of you until he sighed. "Can we just pick up where we left off?"

"And where was that?"

"With me almost eating you out."

You scoffed. You wouldn't have done that if you thought he was being serious. You wouldn't have done that if you were entirely sober. But you didn't and you weren't, so you scoffed. "Right. Yeah. Sure."

"I'm not joking. You're making this harder than it needs to be. There isn't any ulterior motive, this is just... boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy-"

"Debatable.", you muttered, but he ignored it.

"-Boy wants to fuck girl, girl wants to fuck boy, boy fucks girl. Why are you adding shit? Do you want drama? Is that what this is? Because we could do drama. I could do drama like you've never fucking seen before!"

In Nate speak, that meant he had a big dick and he wanted you to know.

"Look. It's just too complicated. You've- there's too much-"

"Forget it all. 'Kay? Just you and me.", he replied immediately, sitting up.

"Because you quote-unquote 'love' me."

"Exactly that." His lips found yours, and surprisingly, this time, you actually had a spine and pulled away.

"What the FUCK?"

Huffing, he rolled his eyes and stroked your cheek as he shifted and knelt down. "Can we skip the part where you scream 'what the fuck, what the fuck' and push me away and get to the part where you admit you want me? I've had a long day."

Seeing him down there did nothing to make you feel safer.

"Nate-"

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, please, just, for the love of god-", he muttered, as if you were being an inconvenience at the moment and not him, the asshat on his knees. "Would you just relax?"

"Look, Y/N. I love you.", he said, and his hands slowly slid up to the hem of your shirt, his thumb rubbing the skin right under it. "Let me show you."

"You don't love me. Stop saying that."

"Fine, then. I want you. And stop telling me you don't want me, like it's a mortal sin or something.", he warned, gripping the backs of your thighs.

Sadly, you couldn't entirely blame this on the molly this time.

It definitely contributed to the decision, but mostly to the fact that it made every single touch of his explode with a robust... flavour that you couldn't replicate even if you tried.

He smiled up at you so softly you'd think he was on his knees to propose. But no. Instead of opening up a little box, he opened the fly to your pants.

"Can you look at me, please?"

You sighed, looking down. "What?"

"You really don't look like you're against this. I'd even go so far as to say you want me, but you're too much of a pussy to admit it."

You did want him. BUT. You were against this. Because it was wrong. But you were letting him kiss up your thighs, bite at your lower abdomen.

Meaning it was the world according to Nate and it both infuriated you and turned you on.

FUCK.

Hums came from both your mouth and his, and before you knew it, your fingers felt nothing but the locks of his hair, pulling so hard there was no way he wasn't in pain. And he must have been, because gently, so seamlessly, he trailed his hand up to yours, removing it from his hair and interlocking it with his own.

But he didn't pause. His tongue continued doing... well, whatever the hell it was doing that made you want to stab the Earth for being able to produce Nate Jacobs as well as praise it for... well, being able to produce Nate Jacobs.

"You're a virgin?", he asked, breathless, raising a brow in incredulity.

You'd be lying if you said your brain even registered his question - registered anything but his tongue and lips.

"Are you a virgin?"

"Why? Don't tell me this is still a test to see if I'm easy or not-"

"It's not.", he assured, reaching up slowly, and then kissing your cheek of all fucking places. One of his hands trailed back down and into you while the other one immediately closed your mouth, though you had no idea why. It was a fucking desolate high school football field. No one was going to hear anyway.

He grinned, pressing his forehead against yours as he added another finger, curling them as he worked into you. "Shh, shh, shh.", he murmured, after probably feeling the results of you trying not to lose your shit beneath his palm.

"See? We go great together."

You screamed. But it didn't quite carry.

He frowned in confusion for a moment when you made a muffled noise and then muttered an 'ah' as he gently removed his palm from your mouth.

"That's not..."

"Hm? That's not what?"

You could have killed yourself right there, because he smirked is what he did. He smirked when you couldn't finish (and barely even start) your sentences.

"That's not even remotely..."

You were stalling. That was clear. Why? You didn't know. There was no logical reason. He was already fucking inside you, there was no point in backing out of this now.

But there was reason to hesitate.

He sighed, licking his lips and shaking his head in disappointment, brushing hair from your face. "Hey."

"What?"

"If you don't fuck me right now, I will lose my shit. I will cut myself. I will play Russian Roulette again. That work for you?"

Oh, this sick, sick, sick, SICK motherfucker.

════════════════════ ⋆🚩⋆ ════════════════════

Why you did it? Question for the ages.

You should've said no. You should've gone home. You didn't go home, though, not even after the fact. You probably should have.

Instead, you found yourself back at Fezco's store. Not voluntarily, either, it just seemed your car was as drained as you were, and you forgot to fill it back up.

"Rue?", you called out into what you imagined to be an abyss. Her voice appeared like light at the end of a tunnel. "Hey."

"You high?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I need someone to pick me up."

"Maddy's not free?"

"I didn't check."

"Well.", she groaned, shifting around, clearly in some sort of drug-induced discomfort, "You should. I don't wanna kill you, y'know, you mean so fucking much to me."

The sarcasm in her voice was mildly hurtful, but hey. At least she cared enough not to kill you.

More than Nate had ever cared.

"Okay."

So, of course, you called Cassie. Because no fucking way were you calling Maddy to come pick you up from the store owned by the local dealer, which was suspiciously close to the party thrown by her ex.

The car ride with her was smooth and lovely and peaceful. Because she was smooth and lovely and peaceful.

"You think your car will be safe, out there, all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I told Fez. He knows what to do."

"Y/N, I... I've noticed you've been off, like, the last term or so."

You did not need her therapy session right now.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"You're not.", she chuckled, nervously, shaking her head as she slowed down at the red light. "You seem on edge. I think it's cause of him."

"Him?" WHAT? How the fuck did this ditz know?

"Yeah. Like, I don't know, maybe you're in love with him, and you think it's, like... forbidden, because he's a bad influence or something, but you just kinda look... strung out. Like there's a huge secret you're keeping."

She was supposed to be clueless about what was going on around her. Isn't that the thing they say about hot blondes?

"Love? In love? With who?"

"Fezco, of course. I get it, he's a dealer, but he's also hot, and I guess, let's face it, he's quite nice for a criminal."

Oh, thank god. The dumb blonde theory stands.

"I'm not in love with Fez."

"Then why are you so... off?"

"I...", you sighed, deciding to stick to the truth as much as safely possible. "I got in with some bad people during spring break."

The look of concern on her face made you want to apologize and buy her whatever she wanted, or maybe even confess to every fucking sinful thought you'd ever had.

"What? Oh, my god, what? Like, hard drugs and shit?"

"More like guns and shit."

"Y/N, WHAT?!"

"Yeah, it was fucked up, but I'm out of it now, though, so you don't have to worry, okay, Cass? I'm peachy. I'm great, honest! Hey, it's turning amber."

She frowned, turning back to the road in front of her. "You sure?"

You'd never been more grateful for Nate throwing the lamp to your right rather than your left.

You'd never been more grateful for Nate giving you a hickey on your right rather than your left.

You nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, though."

"So. Did you... you went to his party, right? Did you see him? Did you guys talk?"

It took you a moment to figure out that she was talking about her ex.

"McKay? Yeah. Yeah."

"How is he? Did he mention me?"

"He's, um... he's doing fine, I guess. He looks like he misses you, but you know him. He probably won't tell me."

"I just... maybe we... I just want to, um... fix things."

"You should."

"You think?"

You nodded. What the fuck else could you do to distract her from the fact that if she took one look down, she'd see Nate blowing up your phone? "Yeah, you guys were great together."

You instantly cringed. Because that was what Nate had said about you and him. "See? We go great together."'

"I don't know if I want him back, or what. What do you think?"

That I just fucked Nate Jacobs. And that the molly was only half of it. That I'm going to kill myself.

"I think... I think you broke up for a reason, Cass."

She nodded, and the rest of the car ride went in pleasant silence.

Then she dropped you home.

And Rue was waiting for you.

════════════════════ ⋆🚩⋆ ════════════════════

"You're pissing me off. What is this, blackmail?'

"Yeah. It is. I saw you two in the bleachers, and if you tell people I'm not sober, I'll let it slip that you let Nate Jacobs inside you."

Keep your calm. If you show even a tiny sign of accepting that she was right, you're dead meat. "It was a psych project. He had just finished a practice, so we sat there and finished some work."

"With tequila?"

Silence. Okay. She was not talking about tonight. She was talking about the gun-night. This was salvageable.

"Funnily enough, Y/N, according to what Lexi told me, there's been no 'psych assignment-slash-project.'"

"Rue-"

"So you've not only been lying to all of us, you've been betraying Maddy. And you've done Jules so wrong.'

"Look, you don't even know-"

"Then tell me."

So you did. You told her about the Instagram story, you told her about the Russian roulette, hell, you even told her about the dinner and the scar. What you didn't tell her about was the sex. The mind-blowing guilt-inducing sex.

"But I saw you kiss him on the bleachers."

"I was drunk, Rue. I'd have let the fucking janitor kiss me."

"Look, Y/N, those are my terms."

"You're asking me to lie to everyone about your health, your wellbeing! We're all looking out for you, Rue! Y'can't just blackmail me into not doing right by you."

"As nice as that is, the fact still stands that you fucked Nate."

FUCK!

"Rue, please-"

"He doesn't even fucking want you. He wants to get back at Maddy, and you're too fucked out to see it!"

"Rue, you're crossing the li-"

"I bet that fucking him was the only thing you've been doing this whole time. What, did you fuck him when Maddy was with him?"

Rue laughed after you slapped her and that definitely told you she was so high she couldn't even feel it. "C'mon. Grow up.", she scoffed, tucking hair behind your ear. "Girl code's not important anymore, is it? We're all eighteen - adults - now."

WHY must everyone always do that with your hair? So fucking condescendingly, too?!

"Rue, I didn't fuck Nate Jacobs."

"Then why is he blowing up your phone? Yeah, you think I didn't notice the name on your screen?"

"He blows up my phone because he's a psycho- I told you about the Russian Roulette thing and the gun and the slit wris-"

"Yeah, but you said you asked him to leave you alone and he did. Why would he break no contact? What could've happened?"

"Rue, I am not going to help you fake sobriety in front of your family- I- Rue, what is that?"

She frowned, looking down and following your line of sight. Her bag. The front zip. A needle. She looked back up, deadpan. "Fent."

"RUE! YOU CAN'T EXPECT ME T-"

"Look, Y/N, I like you, I do. There's no reason for you to worry, okay? If you could be quiet, your life will go on as it always does. No reputation loss, no guilt, no embarrassment."

"This will kill you! I can't do that to you, Rue, please!"

"But you can do Nate Jacobs?"

You were genuinely about to strangle this fucking trapper cunt.

"Think about it."

What, had she gotten lessons in blackmail from him?

════════════════════ ⋆🚩⋆ ════════════════════

That night, you were too fucking exhausted to even question why Nate was knocking at your window. You just opened it for him. You just let him kiss you. You just let him tuck your hair behind your fucking ear.

"I have a question."

"What?"

"Did you visit Shane in the hospital?"

Okay. No way he could have found out about that. You didn't tell a single fucking soul.

"Huh?"

"I beat him up for you. 'Cause he was saying you fucked when you didn't.", he said, his voice oddly calm for a man betrayed.

"I didn't ask you to!"`

"Please.", he scoffed, clapping sarcastically. "Biggest cop-out of the century."

"I didn't!"

"He was calling you a slut, basically. As if you'd just give it up to anyone." What, like he knew you that well?

"Hundreds of people say hundreds of shit about me every fucking day! What am I, supposed to set you on them?"

"You could."

You scoffed.

"I'm being serious. You could say "'sic 'em' " and I'd beat them to a bloody pulp.", he informed, brushing hair over your ear again. "Say it. Tell me someone to beat up. I'll do it. No matter who it is."

"Nate. I didn't ask you to do any of this. I asked you to leave me alone, and you did the opposite!"

"You're acting like I showed up, fucked you, and then just left!"

He clenched his jaw, his grip on the piece of hair he just pushed behind your ear, now shifting to the rest of your hair. "No, cunt. I said 'I love you'. Or did you conveniently forget that?"

Oh. Right. THAT.

"What? You're suddenly acting like a pussy, baby, what's up with that? Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't remember. Don't be a pussy. C'mon, tell me. Oh, yeah, wait a minute, you can't."

"You didn't mean that. You wanted to get what you wanted, so you-"

"You think I say shit like 'I love you' lightly? You think I throw that word around?" Yes, he did, but you didn't need to know that. He decided to deploy the trauma card.

"You've seen what my parents are like. You think I'd abuse the words 'I love you'?"

"I guess not-"

"Yeah. EXACTLY."

Ooh, you were putty in his hands and he almost got a semi because of it.

"Look, okay, fine, Nate, that- that was out of pocket, but you can't expect me to-"

"But I do. I have never lied to you. Have I? I've blackmailed you and threatened you and, fuck, yeah, I've stuck a goddamn gun down your throat, but when have I ever lied?"

"So you're saying you 'love' me and I have to just accept it."

"I'm saying I love you, and you have to just believe it.'

And god help you, you somehow did.

"Rue's blackmailing me."

He mock-gasped. "You're cheating on me, then."

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. Him being so calm in the face of danger should make him look foolish in your eyes, not admirable.

And the molly excuse was being held up by string the breadth of dental floss, honestly.

"Does she use firearms as well? Did you think about me the whole time?" He was clearly trying to make you laugh, and it was working.

He kissed your forehead. "What did she blackmail you for?"

"For or about?"

"Both."

"For : keeping her relapse a secret from everyone. About : the gun-night at the bleachers."

"Okay, so the choice is clear."

"What?"

Nate Jacobs had scared you when he'd said he loved you and when he'd said he'd kill himself for you, but he'd never scared you as much as he did with what he said next.

"We just sit back and watch that bitch OD."

[atticsandwich]

but you come back to what you need

pairing: mephistopheles / gn! reader (mc)

fluff, tension, mephisto's usual tsun tendencies, mc annoying their way into mephisto's heart etc etc

it's not your fault you enjoy crashing at the newspaper club room for your midday breaks. it's also definitely not your fault for pretending to be asleep when he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, so it really can't be helped that you're trying to figure out how to get more.

i finally finished it LMFAO... i am so sorry for the delay fellow mephisto lovers....

prompt based off of this tiktok reddit video, although it took its own form eventually. (please give it a listen though it's way too fucking cute)

—

"You're here again?" Mephistopheles groans, seemingly annoyed, putting his pen down as you waltz into his office at the newspaper club room. It's spacious— almost as big as Lucifer's study back at home. You immediately find your place at the seating couch situated at the office's side, feeling your body sink into the soft cushion.

"Previous class drained the hell out of me," you groan, watching the demon across you roll his eyes. "I have a week to list out a bunch of plants I've never heard of and their most effective usage. Potions and stuff," you continue anyway.

"Hmph," he ignores the way you blatantly disregard his posed grievance of your visit, trying to return his focus to his paperwork. "...I have some books on Devildom botany on the second shelf."

You stop yourself from laughing at his attempts at being dismissive— as much as he hates admitting it, you eventually figure out that he doesn't mind your daily visits; an occurence that started out of pure accident, no less.

-

[You recall the first time you barged into his office, out of breath, narrowly escaping Solomon's pure-hearted attempt of making you a surprise lunchbox. You love the sorcerer, you truly do, but you weren't in the mood to have your stomach collapsing onto itself for the next three days. You could only be thankful Simeon gave you a heads up about his plan so you could avoid him during lunch, knowing well enough of your inability to refuse.

"Do me a favor and don't let Solomon know I'm here," he didn't get a chance to retort before you dived to hide behind his chair, just in time as someone started knocking on the office door. With a huff of defeat, he grants the knocker entry— who turned out, to be in fact, the aforementioned sorcerer.

"Mephisto, have you seen my apprentice around? I was meaning to give them homemade lunch, but they ran off right as the bell rang," clearly, the sorcerer was earnest in his actions, but even the demon could feel the malevolent aura emanating from the supposed 'lunch box'.

"No, I have not. I doubt they would come here of their own volition, more especially during break period," he quirked an eyebrow, trying to ignore the almost-vice grip you had on the back of his coat.

"Hm..." Solomon pondered for a second. "That's weird. I thought I saw them run in this direction... I must have been mistaken, then. Thank you anyway, Mephisto!" with that, the clueless sorcerer turned to leave, and it is only when you hear his footsteps fade into the hallways that you breathe a sigh of relief.

Clearing his throat, the demon looks down behind him, and you flash him a bright grin. "I owe you one, Mephisto! You're the best!" you say before quickly wrapping yourself around his back, dashing out of the office before he could say anything in return.

He's relieved you just barely miss the way his face flusters, and the small goofy smile that creeps its way to his face after he double-checks that you're out of periphery.]

-

You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at the memory while picking out the book from the shelf Mephisto directed to. It's been a few months since then, and although your visits started off sporadic, it eventually became a daily thing— much to the demon's proclaimed inconvenience. A facade, considering no annoyed demon would start keeping an extra teacup in his office that wasn't Diavalo's spare, which just so happened to be your favorite color. Or the fact that that his record player started having your favorite music on rotation— a complete coincidence!— he exclaimed in defense when you pointed it out one day. Or even the fact that his seating area, which once felt like a completely separate space from his work desk, was slightly rearranged so the sofa just so happened to be in a closer, more comfortable viewing and talking range— not to mention the blanket draped over the backrest which also just so happened to be perfect for midday naps.

"—And what might you laughing about? I doubt a book on botany is hardly a comedic masterpiece," he quips, pulling your attention away from the book.

"Mmm," you shift your angle slightly to look at him better. "Just remembered something funny, is all."

Rolling his eyes, he gets up from his chair to the room's small tea station, where a pair of teacups are set out, a tray of snacks also already conveniently prepared.

"Barbatos gave me this blend the other day, it's supposed to help out with stress. I'm guessing it'll be useful for Lord Diavolo as well."

"Mhm," you nod along, your focus already returned to your botany study.

You hear him mumble an incantation— probably some sort of heat spell to boil water, and it's not long after that he sets your cup on the coffee table, along with a select pick of snacks you usually went for first. You would've teased him about how he knows exactly which ones you go for it if not for the fact that you're fully engrossed with Devildom's botany, making steady progress on your assignment.

"Thanks!" the faint scent of something familiar hits your senses, though you couldn't quite put a name on it. "Mm, this tea is quite fragrant."

"If I recall, it's some sort of human realm fruit essence infused in the blend," he explains, taking a book from one of the shelves, sitting down across from you. "Bergamot, I think it was? I took a little sip earlier, and it's pretty good; although I expect nothing less from Barbatos."

"Ah, that's what it was. I knew it smelt familiar."

He mumbles something incoherently, though you can barely make out the words 'humans' and 'calming effects of familiar scents'. It really is laughable how he still feigns not caring.

"Done with newspaper work already? It's rare for you to take a break at this time of day," holding back a laugh at his ridiculousness, you notice a more faintly lax expression on his face.

"I'm already a bit ahead in progress, so I can afford a small break. On the other hand, I didn't think botany would catch your interest," he points out.

"There’s a lot of cool stuff here! I didn't think I'd enjoy researching it this much. Plants in the human realm just kinda... grow?... with some exceptions, of course," with that, you start listing off the ones you chose for your assignment, particularly enthused about plants often used for traditional and ceremonial practices.

Before long, you managed to finish more than half of your task, all that's left being to actually put it in paper. Tea drank and snacks consumed, you let out a pleased sigh before letting out a yawn and a stretch. Without a word, Mephisto stands to return both your book and his back to the shelf. This time, he pulls out a record from the display and goes to play it, which you instantly recognize as a record you recommended to him some weeks ago. Before you can bring it up, he throws a glare your way, preemptively sensing the teasing that was bound to come out of your mouth. You laugh at him instead, sparing him actual words (for now).

"Fine, fine, I'll shut up and just take a nap. Happy, newspaper boy?"

Groaning at the nickname, he walks over back to his desk. "Do whatever you want. And I already told you to stop calling me that."

"Mmhm," is all you can say, already comfortably in place with the couch blanket draped over yourself, the soft music from the phonograph combined with being filled from the tea and snacks already starting to lull you into deep relaxation. You hear Mephisto grumble something, and you notice his gaze towards you when you turned your head to look at him— one he quickly broke, pretending he wasn't caught.

"Did'ya say something?" your eyelids grow heavy, sleep starting to take over.

"...Nothing. I'll wake you up before your next class."

"I know you will," you mumble before dreaming away.

—

You're not certain how long you dozed off, but the slight shuffling of an office chair lulled you out of dreamland. Still being sleepy however, your eyes opted to remain closed, hoping to grasp every second of slumber before your afternoon classes. They remained closed when you hear a familiar demon's grumbling noises as he threw another batch of proposal articles in the bin, and they remained close when you sense him quietly walk over to you, his form slowly leaning down over your face. He's so close that you could feel his breath tickle your nose, and you might be hallucinating it, but you think you feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

"Tsk..." you hear him huff out, fingers carefully tucking your hair off your face.

"...I'll never understand why you keep coming back to me," this time, his tone is a lot more soft, you almost didn't recognize it. Half your conscience is telling you to come clean and open your eyes, but you suck it and keep up the act, wanting to see where it goes. You just hope he doesn't notice your own heart beating a mile a minute. You sense him inch closer

"What am I saying..." he whispers to himself.

"...Please keep coming back to me."

In what felt like a blur, you feel the warmth of his lips silently land on the center of your forehead. He lingers there for a few seconds, before you feel him pull away.

Come back, is what you wanted to say, but words have left your throat, and you almost forget you're supposed to be pretending to be asleep.

"...Ugh," he huffs out again, feeling his hair tickle your neck as he lays his head next to yours in exasperation. He snaps out of it in a flash, and you think it slipped his mind that he wasn't supposed to be caught— so much for that anyway, you think. He walks back to his desk, mumbling to himself, and before your mind could start overthinking about what just happened, you slowly sink back into comfort, the last string of thought your mind provided was how much you wanted him to do it again.

—

You wake up fully this time, by Mephisto snatching the blanket from your sleeping form— keep it up and you'll be late for your last class!, he chastises, and you only groan out a pleading 'five more minutes,' in response.

It's not until a few minutes after you get up that it clicks— that wasn't a dream.

Mephistopheles really kissed you in your sleep.

Sure, it was on your forehead, but now you can't help but continue thinking about it. You thought about it as you waved him goodbye as you left the club room, you thought about it the whole time in class, and you thought about it all the way back to the HoL, where you finally let out a muffled scream as you buried your head in your pillow.

You want him to do it again. You wanted him to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then your—

"Hey, dinner's ready!~" Asmodeus' intrusion cut off your thoughts, but you couldn't even be bothered to care about dinner.

"Hey Asmo?" you ask. The Avatar of Lust perks his brow up in acknowledgment.

"Yes dear?~" it's scary how it's like he can sense what you were thinking...

"...You got any ideas how to get someone to kiss you while awake and not asleep on his couch?"

[lemotmo]

One more! She got a follow up regarding the numbers guestimation.

A. Hi anon 🙂. It's actually relatively easy to figure out spamming. It's not a well thought out plan of action. And why I never understood why they thought it was a genius idea. My friend is a data analyst in his grown up real life so he could be much more technical than me, but I will give you the simple answer. Comment sections are full of the same blogs. The same blog names you can track from ppst to post on Instagram, Twitter and Ticktock. Same on Tumblr. The same group of blogs do all the spamming. It's also fairly easy to decipher which blogs/accounts are being run by the same person. Speech patterns, sentence structures. Posts that feel repetitive or similar to another blogs post. It's not a sophisticated tactic. And I do want to stress that there's not really anything wrong with doing it, except in this case people were doing it to send hate to the cast and to spam the shows official accounts. That's disgusting. And they deserve to be called out and busted for it.

Fandom is supposed to be fun, and it usually is. Smaller fandoms are usually the best kind of fandoms because less people usually means less manufactured drama. They tend to just stay in their lane and headcanon and fanon away with one another. It's great. All fandoms usually end up having de facto 'leader' blogs. It just happens. They tend to become the bigger voices within the fandom. Sometimes fandoms get lucky and they're legitimately cool decent people running them. Sometimes fandoms get unlucky and those blogs are run by douchebags (legit couldn't think of a nicer word, I'm so sorry). Unfortunately for you all, you wound up with the douchebags. The blogs you all ended up following the lead of were basically like politicians who had to manufacture enemies (Oliver and Ryan) and ship wars (Buddie) in order to get attention because their fandom numbers weren't big enough to garner attention any other way. That's the reality. They needed bigger numbers so they pretended to be more people. Only instead of just shipping their ship and enjoying it they used those extra blogs to openly send vile, disgusting and increasingly unhinged things to the show and its cast and anyone else who didn't ship their ship. Openly sending hate to a cast has never led to victory for shippers. It's the dumbest idea of dumb ideas. And inevitably leads nowhere. No one can outrun their hubris. And when you decide to start ranting about being sent private DM's from Tim, something that is blatantly and laughably false, it's the beginning of your end. The good news is increasing numbers of you have finally realized this and are backing away. If you genuinely enjoy the ship by all means ship it as long as it's canon, hell you can ship it once it stops being canon. That's what fandom is for. But you have to acknowledge the reality of canon. You can hate it. You can ignore it, but you have to acknowledge it. And then retreat to fanfic. It's the fandom way. But you don't get to yell and scream about homophobia and other invented wrongs because a higher number of people ship the other ship and the show doesn't appear to be telling the story that that blog and others desperately tried to convince people they were telling. Artificially inflated numbers don't change reality.

Oh, this is interesting. I had a basic understanding of how the detection of spamming worked, but this is very informative and frankly very fascinating as well.

The rest of this is, once again, serving major truth bombs. I'm in awe of the eloquence on display here. I wish I could meet the OP in real life. I have a feeling I'd love to talk fandom with them.

And it's true you know, shipping a couple doesn't have to stop because another one is canon. In fact, we are here doing the exact same thing. BT is canon right now. We know this. We accept it for what it is at the moment, but that doesn't stop us from shipping Buddie, speculating about their future, theorising what will happen in season 8, writing and reading fic, making gifsets, creating art, digging up parallels, discussing our own personal headcanons. We've been doing this for years, through multiple love interests for Buck and Eddie. We never quit and I highly doubt we ever will, canon or not canon.

Thank you again for dropping this in my ask box Nonny! :)

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

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

[growinguparo]

Hii! this is my first post here and i'm not sure about what to say, but i hope someone can help me. I'm really new to all of this, this world of aromanticism, it's like i found something that was missing. i just came to realize being aroace this year, so i'ts just a few months of knowing that i'm aromantic, but i'ts years of being aromantic and honestly, i couldn't say i'm not confused, but i really want some advice on how to.. accept myself. because, honestly, i reaally love romance movies and books, and i grew up thinking some day it would be me, but what if it isn't, what if it's not going to be me, like ever. how do i lead with that? how do accept the possibility to not fall in love like everybody else does, and meet someone to stay together for all life an get married. i know i don't want to get married, but this idea is internalized in my head, how to be happy without romance? without a partner to take care of me, to support me, to help me. maybe one day i'll wake up and realize that i've fallen in love and that i'm not going to be single forever and that i can be just like people expect me to be. but what if i don't? what if that day won't come and i'll be "Loveless". i really loved that book Loveless and i't just felt like maybe it wasn't that bad to be like this, i also watched Koisenu Futari and honestly, i never felt so part of something, like i've found the REAL happiness for me, not that one that people always talk about, saying that is the only happiness, to date, get married and have kids. i know most people feel fulfilled with this, but what if i don't? i'm not everybody else, i don't need to live based on people's expectations. if anyone reading this, feel something similar, please(if you like) share your experiences :) thank you for your attention

tbh my first impression here is that you've already figured out what i think is the most important part: the fact that what will (most likely) make you happy is different than what seems to make everyone else happy. and you being happy is the goal. you've figured out that you don't want that traditional romantic relationship, and that that's okay. that's awesome!

i also love that you were able to see yourself positively within Loveless and Koisenu Futari in a way that felt authentic to you. representation helps us imagine what our life could be like. if you can't see yourself in a traditional marriage, what can you see yourself doing? you could live a life like in Koisenu Futari. allow yourself to imagine a life you would be happy and authentic in. try to be free with it, not shooting down ideas because they're "unrealistic". (btw - this might be hard. there are nearly infinite varieties of romantic relationships that are spoonfed to us from birth. coming up with your own ideas is harder than being spoonfed, so don't get discouraged.)

if you haven't already i'd suggest reading about relationship anarchy. it's basically the idea that no one type of relationship is superior to another, and within your relationships you can do whatever you want forever, tailoring them to your needs and wants.

besides that, i think acceptance takes time. you're altering your view of yourself and your future and your place in the world. you've had your whole life to get used to one reality, one self-image, and now you're changing that. it takes time to get used to.

there are also some very real material concerns that come along with being aro. to name a few: navigating the world as a single person is harder legally and financially. western society is built on individualism and we are trained to only seek emotional support from a life partner, even though that is a blatantly unstable way of living even for allos. that can result in single people struggling to find continued support throughout their lives.

accepting being aro doesn't mean the hard parts go away, and ignoring them will not help. it's like accepting being gay - there are real material concerns that come along with being gay, but you can still love being yourself and love being gay. and you can fight to make the world a better place for people like you, if you want to.

followers, any advice?

[mooseyspooky]

This is going to be a bit all over the place, but I wanted to write a little ramble about it.

Whenever I'm writing I pause to listen to Moz or Johnny talk to make sure I'm keeping their voices close to how they actually sound in conversation. Moz' constant, neverending "hmm"ing, the way his lisp sounds, words he frequently uses and so on. Johnny's cocaine addled brain talking so fast he can't figure out what he's trying to say. His laughter. His wit.

But what I find so interesting is that Johnny made it clear in Set the Boy Free that Moz wanted to be the public face of The Smiths. Andy and Mike couldn't do any interviews, Johnny rarely did them - and if he did they were mostly if not always with Moz. And yet Moz constantly speaks on Johnny's behalf - because we know there wasn't a single braincell in his head thinking about Andy and Mike at any given point.

'Behind the name was total unity.' 'They' didn't do drugs like a regular band or go out to pubs. I find it so fascinating and so telling of Johnny's character that he was so nonplussed about this. He never mentioned fighting with Moz about this constant projection that they shared every view point up until 1987. "We were outraged by the way the media had perceived us this past year" - when Johnny has never cared about the press' opinion and has been quick to stop an interviewer from interjecting their own beliefs about something when it's not true. Johnny surely held enough sway over Moz that he could be like, I want to have my own say, or I want to be included in more interviews. But he didn't.

And I feel like this is a facet of Johnny's infatuation that's frequently overlooked. Moz is forever portrayed as the one pining and the one scorned. Ignored by the one he wants the most. Yet Johnny was so blinded by his adoration that Moz was allowed to completely control his public image for 5 years. Another part of that control is Moz telling Johnny to become a vegetarian in 1984. Johnny immediately said yes. And continues to be a vegetarian, now vegan to this day. There was never any questioning Moz' influence over him. He was completely committed to Moz - it was the kind of total devotion that falls into idolism and obsession. Because why would you ever question the person you love more than anyone else in the world. Moz was right about everything in Johnny's mind, even when he was blatantly not telling the truth.

[my-current-obsession]

I VERY rarely do this kind of thing but I have to rant a little about this hp drarry fic. Mostly because I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about it, but said thoughts and feelings are very mixed so I couldn't bring myself to leave a comment since I don't want to come off as hating/critiquing, but I have to vent about it SOMEWHERE.

I really enjoyed it in the beginning, and I want to say I ultimately still like it. But I WANT to love it and just can't, because it frustrates me. Literally every person in this fic, including all of Draco's friends and even his mother, is on Harry's side of the situation. And that just isn't right.

I understand that "everyone" can see that Harry is in love with Draco and wants to be with him, which is why they keep trying to steer Draco towards him, but personally I think the conflict and onus to fix things is very much on the wrong person.

I don't care how obvious Harry supposedly is. There is a difference between being obvious and being explicitly clear. It should not be up to Draco to magically REALIZE Harry has feelings for him, it should be on Harry to clearly, explicitly tell him. If Harry wants to be with him so badly he needs to put his feelings into words instead of just implying things.

Because OF COURSE Draco wouldn't realize how Harry felt when he was so explicitly rejected before. Why the hell is it on the person who was hurt - possibly even heartbroken - to figure out that the guy RESPONSIBLE for that hurt actually DOES like him now so they can be together?

The entire conflict of this story comes down to Harry's inability to clearly confess his feelings and Draco's inability to understand them WITHOUT said clear confession. And that sucks because the rest of the plot and the character writing is SO fun and engaging, but I feel personally wronged by this conflict and the fact that literally everyone keeps trying to push Draco at Harry instead of seeing his viewpoint and going either "well, Potter screwed up and has missed his chance now" or just freaking confronting Harry and making it clear that he NEEDS to confess or Draco will never understand because he was so badly burned by him before that he's completely blind and/or willfully ignorant to the idea of Harry ever loving him, and no amount of just flirting will break through to him.

To be clear, I'm not inherently against fics where the conflict is just that the pining idiots won't admit their feelings. My frustration here is that Harry is BLATANTLY pining and making moves so clearly he wants to make something happen with Draco yet STILL doesn't do the obvious thing of just confessing. It's one thing to withhold your feelings if you DON'T want the other person to know or your relationship to change. But Harry DOES, which makes him sitting on his confession and getting hurt every time Draco doesn't notice his dangled hints upsetting.

Basically, one or both parties having a chronic case of Cannot Spit it Out is fine, but here, where one party is clearly pursuing the other but the other is oblivious? In general that's fine too but this fic has a REASON Draco is oblivious. I feel like it makes perfect sense NOT to expect/want anything romantic from someone who rejected you before, so since Harry made that bed now he has to lie in it.

Maybe it's a stretch, but this to me feels lowkey like victim blaming. It's clear that Draco liked Harry in the past and was incredibly hurt by the fallout of their one-night-stand, yet rather than sympathizing with him or trying to make the relationship happen on Harry's end, everyone in his life is just telling him to trust Harry now and that he won't be rejected. Which then led to him opening up just a little bit before a misunderstanding happened that led to him getting hurt and feeling rejected AGAIN.

I really do want to love this fic, but as someone who has BEEN hurt and rejected, I just don't understand how everyone in Draco's life can side with Harry. I don't understand why it's up to Draco to realize Harry loves him without being told, instead of up to Harry to verbally convey that.

[boymage666]

I survived the

WIZARD RACE

Anyways I'm gonna talk about it now. no readmore because mobile tumblr is dumblr, sorry.

So, only slightly relevant to anything, but I did the entirety of the game during the school day. Started around 11:30, but I didn't find my first charm until about 12:45 (I had to go to an assembly then eat lunch)

Finding the charms was a pretty fun challenge, the only one I didn't get on my own was the heart (thanks for that one @wizardgoblin )

had to take another break after submitting the charms because I had to get back to school, by that time 3 people were already done. No big deal to me, all I wanted was top 13. So I do my work for that class and open Tumblr again to start phase 2.

This is a good point to say I love codes and cyphers, so I was very excited at the idea of the next part, only to metaphorically fall on my ass because I forgot that the actual question was on the main post about the game. Once I found that again I copied it onto a sheet of paper so I could write out the sounds as I figured them out. And so the teacher of my next class wouldn't flay and crucify and sous ve me for using my phone, but more so i could write my thoughts.

This bastard. (affectionate)

That symbol right there caused me the most trouble of everything, I thought for a moment I was going mad because I couldn't find anything like it in the sample text. But you know what? I think it's better that way. Made me think harder. I was kinda skipping around on words while translating, going for the easy words first then the words that I felt would be important. Decided I would hold off on this word and skipped back to the line above it to solve the big word up there. Catchphrase. And the last word was "Weekly". I realized then that this had to be "Wizard".

I'm glad that the "z" sound wasn't in the passage, it made me think harder about the puzzle, and that was fun in hindsight.

(please ignore the blatantly mistranslated word on the second row.)

Unfortunately I don't have timestamps for exactly when i entered the maze, but it was probably around 3:40, as I remember realizing school was about to be over, which meant I'd have to drive home before finishing if I didn't get through fast.

MAZE SPOILERS AHEAD. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HAVE IT RUINED FOR YOU. DO READ IF YOU'RE STUCK AND WANT TO PLACE. IM NOT YOU MOM.

On the first page of the maze there were three options to choose where to go. I translated the first option, If I recall correctly it was scoundrel. Did not want to deal with that, the second option I couldn't translate immediately, so I skipped to the third option. Merchant. Sounds safe enough, I should go there.

So I did.

Reading the options, and knowing I was at a merchant, I decided to barter, and got an item. Cool. Sick even. So I move on.

[something] [STRENGTH] [STEALTH]

Decided to go stealth, and remembering how the merchant went, I choose the stealth option. Made it out with a cool gem. Encountered the dragon. Decided I didn't want to give up the candle and tried using the gem. Back to the start. Same path with the merchant, chose the option i didn't translate for the monster, and decided to try and charm it. Sandwich aquired. Not a good offering, back to the start. Merchant and gem? Close but no. Finally, I decided to try and fight the monster. It worked, and the item visually matched what I got from the merchant much more that the other items, sure enough, it was a good enough offering, and I got to move on.

Last part of the maze. 14 options, one was correct, spotted it immediately. Escaped at 3:57 pm ctz, day one of the race.

Honestly, I thought the game was fun! The maze was slightly easier than the cypher, for better or for worse, but that also could have been on me by refusing to try the other routes at the start of the maze. I can't wait to see what future events have waiting for us! Thanks for hosting this @wizardweekly

[ouroboros-hideout]

WIP WEDNESDAY WHENEVER

I got tagged by @theviridianbunny thank youuu!

ART

The Kurt drawing I started a month ago is almost finished so I won't show that as a WIP again lol. But I settled on what I want to draw next already and I am way to hyped by the idea (Cyberpunk/Witcher crossover)

WRITING

I write quite a lot lately (or try to). Manly oc stuff because I managed to get obsessed with Alyona. Welp.

Her character introduction for my AU is halfway finished, but I am overthinking if it got a little to shippy (I didn't intendet that in the beginning but it just happened and I like it hehe). Maybe I make my shippy stuff into something extra and name it after the ship to keep the actual AU "cleaner" bc it's not that important for the plot. I don't know! I can't organzie my stuff!

Here's a preview of the introduction tho. For context: It's a backflash and around 2073, the business in Dtown starts to bloom and she comes for a visit to see what the Colonel came up with (try not to cringe by posting your writing but cringe anyway):

————————————————————

A woman got out of the helicopter after them. Relatively tall, slim, athletically muscular, her short black hair was tousled by the wind, the sides of her skull were shaved short. She wore simple, military-style clothing. Cargo pants, lace-up heavy boots, a tactical leather jacket. Everything was kept in black and dark olive tones. If you didn't know any better, you'd say she was from here and it would be easy for her to blend in with the masses in Dogtown. One detail that made her stand out, was a multitude of thin scars that ran from the lower left side of her face across her nose and up to her forehead. Judging by the degree of healing, it was a very old wound. At least on the outside.

She walked confidently past her people, holding a bottle of clear liquid with an elaborately designed label in her right hand. Probably high-proof alcohol from her home.

After a few steps, however, she stopped abruptly and pushed the aviator glasses she was wearing down a little to look over the rim in disbelief and with a raised eyebrow.

"You look old, Kurt," she said blatantly, examined the man in front of her from top to bottom and continued to walk slowly towards the him, then took her glasses off completely and put them in the inside pocket of her jacket.

"It hasn't been that long since we last saw each other, has it?"

Her English was remarkably good when compared to other representatives from this part of the world who were usually up for business in Dogtown. However, she was unable to mask the slight accents common to the Russian language.

Kurt ignored her little teasing and tried to be professional.

"I'm glad you're here too." He couldn't help but welcome her with a thin smile." And it should be about half a year. The last time was in Laos during the negotiations."

Both slowly came to a halt in front of each other. Jago had followed the Colonel discreetly and kept to the background.

"That was six months ago already. Seems like I did good on suppressing the memories about that terrible place“, she answered shaking her head in disbelief.

"How was the flight?" he added tersely.

"Ah," she made a dismissive hand gesture. "Alright. I am getting used to traveling.“ She showed him the bottle she brought with her. „Here's your favorite. Don't worry, I've got more in the helicopter."

Without further ado, she pressed it into Hansen's hand.

For all the people standing by who were not yet familiar with Alyona and her way of dealing with Kurt, this whole encounter must have seemed incredibly strange. They all only knew him as the undisputed authority figure and nobody, except at most his old brothers in arms, would dare to talk to him like that. And even there were limits.

Alyona finally looked with interest at the man standing behind the Colonel.

„And who is the cute little cat? I don't think we've met yet.“

Jago's features froze completely and he didn't think he had heard correctly.

"The cute little... EXCUSE ME?" he replied with audible outrage in his voice.

————————————————————

And I still NEED to write her fucking lore down. I think I got it togehter by now.

VP (new to the list)

Just started to activly making pics on my console and would like to come up with a little series in the future maybe.

Atm I try to make pics for a fun Discord Challenge where I have to show a single day in the live of my V. Since I am still obsessed with a certain disctrict I thought I make it a "Dogtown Days"- Edition. I struggle with the limited set of poses but I'll figure something out.

Yea think that's it for now. I still have so many ideas for a lot of different things but I have to restrain myself and finish some things first before I get lost in my WIP-Limbo.

[asoiaf-essays-collector]

'Is anyone in the ASOIAF fandom outside of the 100 people on tumblr connected to reality?' You hit the nail on the head. They are not lmao. So much time has passed with no book content that these people are pathologically married to their 'metas' aka headcanons and think they know what GRRM will do better than himself. Also, it absolutely sends me how everyone outside of Sansa/J0nsa fans ignores the show because they didn't get their headcanons catered on a silver platter and all their theories got blown the fuck out of the water. I once saw someone say that ASOIAF discoursers will not stop aggressively ignoring the show and treating their theories as more canon that the actual tv adaptation based on years worth of conversations and notes between the author himself and the showrunners. People really believe those main character endgames came out of thin air as if a multi-billion dollar corporation like HBO wouldn't have clauses in place in the event GRRM shat the bed and didn't finish the books (which he did lmao) for him to give the writers his notes/outlines as to the ending.

It's sunken cost fallacy at this point and fans being extremely embarrassed they completely misinterpreted the kind of story they were reading. The fact that Sansa fans of all sections of the fandom got a vast majority of the themes and endgames correct is even more salt on the wound for these people lol.

Dear nonny, the thing that slips over the heads of fandom majority (pretty obvious thing) that both ASoIaF and GOT are very complicated and complex works with a lot of different circumstances around them that require at least a little bit analysis to understand.

It's very easy thing to say that that GoT was bullshit and not mention it ever again. It doesn't require this thing called thinking. And it seems that most people in this fandom took the easy way out of the reality. Because as we wait Winds of Winter it's just so easy to skip, for example, I don't know, Sansa's chapters and then go discuss with 10 000 anti sansa fans that she's so unimportant and stupid.

I really think we should see the fine line between giving show too much credit and not trusting it at all.

You know, back in the days, I remember seeing somewhere that D&D were given just a paper (or even a half of it) of those outlines. For this massive story with a dozen focal characters and 50 more characters that are also very important, just important and kinda important. With those peculiar connections through sometimes littlest events. And who knows which of those points they were given made it to the show end and which did not. I'm not saying they blatantly ignored the commandments by GRRM, there are a variety of reasons they couldn't just make it happen.

For example, what if the seemingly unimportant character D&D killed or wiped off earlier suddenly made it to the end - we know a bunch of them. Robb's wife, Doran Martell, princess Arianne, Young Griff - those are just the politically very important figures and those are just from top of my head.

Second reason not to trust the show in some instances is the pressure of the fandom that GoT was under at that point. Like yeah they couldn't change the fact that Dany that was previously established in the show as this big feminist progressive icon is suddenly big bad evil guy of the series. But I also can absolutely imagine them not being able to kill someone like Tyrion because killing both fan favourite #1 and fan favourite #2 was too much - although I don't think he's gonna end up dead, it's just an example.

That is also why I think it was impossible to end show with Jonsa. (1) for some reason fan favourite chemistryless Jonaerys (2) lack of any establishment that cousins can marry in Westeros and it is not viewed as incest and (3) therefore big bad backlash from fans they couldn't handle. Also it would have contradicted the badass feminist course they were taking with Sansa.

But at the same time - season 6 is the last decent season of the show. There are reasons to believe that big events happening there are gonna happen in the books - Battle of Bastards, doom of the Great Sept etc. Jon meeting Sansa too, btw. There is background for it, there were premises in the books.

So regarding the show - to see which show events are to expect and which are not a fan has to a) remember the circumstances around said event both from book and from show, b) remember the themes of the story and tools the author uses to show those themes, and c) understand and interpret them correctly.

Sounds like a lot of mental work, right?

So no wonder people just can't handle it.

Except for Sansa and Jonsa stans - because for us it is a way to exist in this toxic fandom.

You know the funny thing - as I was reading the books, I treated Sansa as a regular character. I liked her but not much more than the rest of the bunch. It was when close friend of mine said to me "Urgh, I hate Sansa" and I started the whole discussion "But why?" with them that made me feel defensive about her. And then I saw that the part of the fandom that likes Sansa have to do absolutely the same on the regular basis. And all of them are very nice people that have to do "you see that theme, and that happened because of that, and it correlated with that theme of this character, and the logic of Sansa's arc and etc" - regularly. I mean the database for every Sansa and Jonsa theory is huge, including every possible evidence - book quotes, themes, background, show clues, another characters arcs, interviews with actors and GRRM himself - everything. And all they usually get as a response are misunderstood events and misinterpreted themes - the nicest of them see Sansa as a cautionary tale (and don't they get the point? It was Robb who had the cautionary tale arc, and he didn't get the POV).

I'm sorry, the anwer happens to be so much longer than I intended. It's just that I have seen a lot of Sansa and Jonsa shit around here, I'm sure you have too. And I'm so sick of it, really. It's so unfair to the nicest people in this fandom.

And the sad thing, it won't be over after WoW and DoS are released (if ever). They won't be able to just shut up and admit their ignorance - even if the themes are catered to them by author himself in actual books.

Because guess what - there are GRRM interviews when he said that Sansa is important and discussed her themes. There are characters in the books that said that Sansa is important. And there are still takes that I see here "nah, Sansa's gonna stay in vale till the end, that's all she's good for"

[snowdrrops]

LET'S GET MARRIED, DAZAI

feat. ! double black/soukoku summary ! 4 years after fyodor dies. peace is restored. chuuya hears from a few subordinates that dazai is planning to marry. he intervenes.

Office gossip was not something Chuuya showed interest in. However, as he was refilling his third cup of coffee on Tuesday morning, he couldn't help but overhear a conversation going on between a few employees.

It went something like this:

"What?! There's no way!"

"It's definitely true, one of my friends even saw him at an expensive jewellery store yesterday! He was probably buying a ring to propose."

A gasp. "Hang on- isn't he turning twenty six this year? Does he really want to get engaged this young?"

A different voice joined the conversation. "I heard some of the seniors say that he used to be an executive here, and he was the youngest of 'em all!"

"Can't believe he turned his back on us, and joined that detective agency! Talk about a demotion."

Dazai was planning to get married? Which poor soul was going to suffer being proposed to by him? No, Chuuya couldn't allow something like this to happen to anyone in Yokohama. No matter what, he had to stop this! It was for the sake of the people! The moment the clock struck six, Chuuya was out of his office (unlike most days, in which he would stay overtime). He had a mission to fulfil, and he was going to get it done.

The trip to the Armed Detective Agency seemed to take longer than it usually did. The roaring of his motorcycle pierced through the tranquillity of the evening as he sped through the roads.

Upon his arrival at the agency, Chuuya saw what he needed to stop. A young brunette lady stood outside with one of her hands hiding her flustered face from Dazai, who was on one knee. Chuuya started storming towards them whilst trying to convince himself that he was just being a patriotic citizen of Yokohama and by extension, the whole of Japan. Whoever had the bad fortune of being in a romantic relationship with Dazai was going to suffer for the remainder of their lives.

Chuuya himself could testify to this. Seven years with that bastard and he was already experiencing the detrimental effects. His blood pressure had increased and he found his heart beating so wildly at times he thought it might burst!

"That was so convincing that I felt a bit flustered! You're doing great, Dazai. All this practice is certainly helping," the woman said, an approving smile on her face.

Chuuya halted abruptly in his steps.

Wait, what? Practice? He had been going at this multiple times? Exactly how many women was he planning on marrying?

"I've screwed up at many things in life and I really don't want this to be another one of those things," Dazai responded, getting up and wiping dust off his clothes.

"So, same spot again tomorrow?" the woman asked.

"I think I'm ready now," he responded, his gaze suddenly meeting Chuuya's. Of course the bastard would blatantly ignore his presence, what else was Chuuya expecting?

The woman had turned to him as well. Surprisingly, her eyes lit up, as if she had seen an old friend. "Chuuya, is it? Dazai has said so much about you!" She greeted him excitedly.

"Don't listen to anything that comes out of his mouth. It's all garbage," Chuuya replied.

She cocked her head to the side, puzzled. "He's only ever said good things-"

"Thank you for all your help today, Koharu," Dazai interrupted, rather loudly.

She bowed and gave him a smile. "Of course, see you when I see you, then."

Chuuya watched her retreating figure before turning back to Dazai.

"Who is she?"

Dazai raised his eyebrow. "Why do you want to know?"

"Do you plan to marry her?" was said with a tad bit more malice than Chuuya intended.

"I ask again, why do you want to know?"

"Don't I have a right to, as your ex-partner?"

Dazai seemed to consider this, "Hm, you have a point. I shall tell you then, that I have no intention of marrying her."

A surge of relief spread through Chuuya's being.

"I do, however, intend to marry someone else."

That horrible, bitter feeling was back in Chuuya's gut again.

Dazai smirked to himself, satisfied at Chuuya's reaction. "Shall I propose tonight?"

All that patriotism that had kept him going till this point was drained. Right now, Chuuya just wanted to head home and take a long, hot bath. "Do what you want."

"Why the long face, shorty? Just a second ago, you showed so much interest."

Chuuya wanted to kick him where it would hurt the most. "I don't care who you marry, Dazai. Gosh, why did I even come here?"

Dazai stepped closer to him. "I think I know why."

Chuuya blinked. Of course his annoyingly intelligent ex-partner could see through him like he was transparent. Chuuya wanted nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and demand an answer, for he himself could not understand his own actions.

"You didn't want me to be married, did you?"

Chuuya pulled back almost violently, his eyes wide and jaw dropped.

Dazai snapped his fingers. "And the reason for that is because whether you want to admit it or not, you're jealous."

"Hey, I could get married if I wanted to, too!" Chuuya snapped back.

Dazai gave a loud sigh and shook his head. "You're not jealous of me having someone to marry. You're jealous because you don't want me to marry anyone but you."

Chuuya felt like the temperature had dropped fifty degrees. He froze in place and stood rooted to the ground, Dazai's words echoing in his head over and over again.

You're jealous because you don't want me to marry anyone but you.

He felt like a ten ton truck had ran over him when he gradually came to the realisation that Dazai was right. The dots were finally connecting. The relief when Dazai told him he wasn't marrying that woman. The sickening feeling that flooded his insides when he learnt that Dazai did have someone he wanted to marry. Chuuya was in love without even being aware of it.

And the very next feeling that he felt was his heart aching, because the chances of Dazai reciprocating these one-sided feelings he had been harbouring were exactly zero.

"Chuuyaaaa, are you there? I'd like to practise proposing just once more."

These feelings had to be eliminated immediately. But first, he had to act as if Dazai was wrong about this. He needed to be calm and collected. Chuuya put on the best poker face he could muster.

"Go on. I'll be sure to judge you harshly."

Dazai took one of Chuuya's hands in both of his and got down on one knee.

The sincerity in his eyes was like taking a stab to the chest; Dazai was serious about this person.

This person who most certainly was not Chuuya.

"Chuuya, will you marry me?"

Those words made Chuuya want to throw up, knowing that they were meant for someone else.

God, it hurt a lot worse than he thought it would.

"Good luck with the proposal, Dazai. I hope it goes well."

Dazai gave him a blank look before he let out a laugh.

"Thank you, shorty. But I've already proposed."

"Oh? Did it go well?"

Dazai gave him a smile. "That's up to you."

"Stop joking around. You didn't propose to me-"

Chuuya paused. Blinked once. Twice.

Just like his first realisation, he took a while to process this one as well. Oh.

All this time, he was the one Dazai wanted to marry.

"You really are slow for someone who's a Port Mafia executive. What I am trying to say is-"

"Yes."

"What?" Shock filtered into Dazai's expression.

"Let's get married, Dazai."

•    .             .               ✦

directory

[saiyanandproud]

Why do you continue to leisurely visit Cyto if you're only there to 'observe' the timeline? Don't you feel the possibility of leading him on? You can only keep up the lie for so long before he figures it out.

...Or do you keep coming back for reasons beyond your self imposed mission? Have you grown closer than intended? Cyto is certainly fond of you.

Tease my muse about any crushes they have/you think they might have! -- Accepting

That was not a question she wished to answer.

She knew she shouldn't have kept visiting Cyto. Not in the way she did anyways. Her only mission was to monitor the timeline, to make sure it wouldn't escalate, ending with Cell ruling with fear and violence over Earth. And that, she did.

But she wasn't meant to get so close to Cyto. While she kept telling herself it was for a higher good, to make sure Cell's influence didn't manipulate his innocent spirit, she couldn't ignore Cyto was developing certain... Attentions towards her. And they blatantly trespassed the friendship department.

Spending time with him was pleasant; he was clumsily straightforward, and had a playful side Mariko liked to tickle now and then. All for the purpose of keeping him a good person, she kept thinking whenever she needed an excuse to visit him, but it never rubbed away the feeling that she was taking advantage of the situation. And the accusation of leading him on made her grimace with shame.

She couldn't think about it. She didn't want to think about it, and not only because she was dangerously close to fraternising with a potential enemy. It was also because she knew that, if she did, the solution would have been one and one only: aborting the mission and handing it to someone else before she got too personally involved. And maybe it was too late anyways.

"... I'm only doing it to make sure Cell doesn't take over the timeline with his obsessions of revenge. Also, Cyto is my friend. If there is anything I can do to make sure his father won't turn him in a tool, be sure l'll do it."

And she didn't want to add anything else to the question.

[stateofdreaming14]

Ok so there's this post that I've been thinking about a lot that basically amounts to 'i can't believe ppl actually care that Rose was 19 and the doctor was 900' and I've been trying to ignore it bc I don't care that much for starting fights over something like this (can't stress enough that you can go ahead and like whatever ships you want whether I agree with the ship or not. Go off) but, I do have many thoughts on it.

First off, I'm the type of person who just hates doctor/companion ships in general. It's a type of relationship where the dynamics of power are clearly unbalanced. The doctor is always the one in control of their adventures. If they want to go they have to be nice to him, and if they don't want to be stranded fuck knows where then they better listen to him (the doctor might not actually do that but he has threatened it at times like in Father's Day). He is also always the more knowledgeable one and the one they depend on to save them in the majority of situations.

When it comes to Rose in particular, her being incredibly young is baked into her character from the beginning. She is introduced as an aimless 19 y/o with no ambitions, no marketable skills, and stuck at a dead end job (which got blown up like ten minutes in). That's the very reason she wants to travel with the doctor. She feels stuck in this awkward time of her life where she has no purpose. Running away on some adventure, then, becomes her avoiding the growing pains of that precise time in one's life. So when she is forced back into her normal life, she doesn't see the point of any of it. She would rather give up everything and everyone (even her own life) to travel with the doctor. Reminder that holding the keys to the tardis is a big power the doctor has over his companions, and he can (and does) take the privilege away at any time. So for Rose, who gets self esteem and purpose from traveling with him, this power is doubled.

Not to mention that season one reminded us of her age constantly. The big emotional through line for the doctor (besides him dealing with time war aftermath) was his need to keep rose safe. He felt immense guilt at putting her into such dangerous situations. Whenever it seemed like shed died he'd say with great emotions, "she was only 19 years old, and now she's dead because of me. Because I brought her here" (not an exact quote but an approximate recreation of something he said often enough). The first season took her age very seriously. It was only season 2 where that stopped. Likely bc they couldn't pass up the chemistry between the two actors. (Of course even 9 and rose flirted often but they both insisted nothing was between them until the season end kiss).

And, of course, the show messed up by starting comparisons between her and Martha in season three. Martha by comparison is a woman with her life together. She has so many things outside of the doctor, which is why she's one of the few companions who chose to leave on her own. She isn't dependant on the doctor for her self worth. She has her life planned to some extent. The most she can complain about is a complicated family dynamic that forces her to be the mediator. Even more, she is defined by being mature, capable, and intelligent. This isn't a dig at rose btw, but that wasn't her at all. Her strengths were more in connecting with people, and it was often noted that she started to treat their travels like a game as time went on. She was often making jokes and highlighting the fun side of the adventures. All of her moments of going off on her own were characterized by her repeating things the doctor has said or observing things to tell the doctor later. There is even a part where 10 says that he wishes rose was there instead of Martha bc she would have figured everything out, much to the confusion of everyone who I've ever watched that episode with. It might have been the most delusional thing he ever said, and forced the audience to focus on how blatantly untrue that is. She would probably be flirting, making goofy jokes, or, at best, throwing out any idea that pops into her head until something sparked the doctor's thoughts. There is no way she'd be any better than Martha (who has already proved how capable she is by this point).

This isn't really supposed to be a hate post for any character or ship. But it is worth saying that it's perfectly reasonable to hate doctor/rose and also very reasonable to be squicked out by the age gap. Acting like ppl who dislike aspects of your ship are all unreasonable ppl who can't differentiate between fiction and reality is such a cope. Aspects of the ship are bad/weird. If you still like it regardless then just own it. Not everyone CAN just ignore certain aspects and enjoy it without thoughts. I'm sure there would be things I can get past that they can't. Just don't try to pretend you're so prosecuted for enjoying the main ship of three seasons that the majority of the fandom like just bc some ppl can't.

Anyway, rant over. Like I said, the post annoyed me but it's not worth fighting over so I probs won't even add tags. If doctor/rose shippers find it and get offended that's on them.

[thebrokenboy98]

08.04.2024

I've been pushing everyone away again. I'm not sure how not to. Every time something goes wrong, I just feel like I need to deal with it on my own. I have no desire to be the convenience friend, but for some reason that just seems to be the role I've been saddled with. Maybe it's because I push people away, maybe it's because I am easier to tolerate in short increments.

What's worse even if I wanted to, I couldn't accurately explain why I've been feeling the way I do. You tell someone your gut is never wrong and they look at you like you're insane. You tell someone you're tired of being alive, and they threaten to have you locked away, it's a never ending cycle.

Every time I sit down to write this it feels like my brain is melting but it's been about a week of the same bs.

I can't figure out if I keep convincing myself I'm replacable or if it's a reflection of nearly everyone in my life showing me how replacable I actually am. Whatever the shitty feeling may be, I need it to fuckin stop. Shit's like a hurricane wiping everything out every time even the littlest thing goes wrong. Especially lately with you and your best friend. I'm glad you've finally got a good friend. But I don't dig the, not even being a third wheel or even your bs "soulmate" ordeal, but just being blatantly ignored, and treated like I'm not shit when I do so much for the both of you. At this point I'd literally let any damn thing else fly, but I won't do the disrepectful bs. If I'm not shit, why the fuck am I doing this bs landscaping for you? Why do any of the shit I do for you or her? Why the fuck am I even still here?

[dredshirtroberts]

today is my mom's birthday. and i hate her.

i hate her for not being curious or sharing what she did know about our family's health issues. i hate her for not paying attention to her children when they needed her. i hate her for not paying attention to me for decades unless it benefited her. i hate her for having gotten a special super duper surprise birthday theme for her 51st birthday when the very next month for my Actual Milestone Birthday of turning 30 (which my family has always treated as special) i got BLATANTLY ignored on MULTIPLE points in the "evening of festivities" including WHILE EATING MY SPECIAL DINNER (which was a backup option because the whole plan for my birthday i had was thrown out for whatever SHE wanted to plan instead). as in i ate it almost completely alone in a different room because no one wanted to choose to sit with me. For my own fucking birthday.

i hate her for hating herself so loudly and specifically that i know why she doesn't like me. I wear her face better than she does, and she's angry she doesn't think she looks hot and I do. And I can't point out that i look just like her or i risk pointing a mirror at her and going "So you *don't* love me, because i look like all the things you hate". But if I point out I look like any of dad's family i don't because then i'm trying too hard to be a boy which she hates.

i hate her. i hate her for never taking us to the doctor. i hate her.

i hate her because she was supposed to love me. but she didn't.

and now that i've rescinded my love... now what?

i can't call dad if my tire blows out on the highway. I couldn't do that even before I stopped talking to them because of how far away I am now, but... now I really can't. All I'd get is a lecture on how dangerous i'm probably being (even if the reason for the car troubles is in no way my fault, it has to be my fault. it's always my fault.) and told to figure it out for myself once the panic is over.

i've never been able to call my mom for anything.

Ever.

she was never the person i went to. she couldn't be. she probably wanted to be on occasion, but she never did the work either.

In cutting my parents off, i really didn't actually lose anything. the amount of contact i've had with them since i blocked them everywhere last July has been about on par as what it used to be before i stopped talking to them - just without the anxiety of a potential reemergence of them into my life.

and i hate my mother. and there might be a hole in my heart (non-metaphorical, and also non-concerning, somehow). and i hate my mother.