#doesn't mean I have not gotten a question about if I 'read something new'

[cobragardens]

Notes on the Scene in Job's Basement

Crowley is not tempting Aziraphale here. He's experimenting on him.

Getting Aziraphale to sin, or even getting him drunk, is not Crowley's intent in this scene. Eating food, taking pleasure in food, drinking alcohol, and even being drunk are not sins in most of Judaism or Christianity (and they're certainly not sins in British Christianity, regardless of any church's doctrine). When Aziraphale turns down alcohol, Crowley just suggests he try food instead; so it's not important to Crowley what Aziraphale tries, but it is important to him that he try something.

This scene is also the first time (chronologically) we see that Crowley likes to drink and likes to be drunk.

We know from

and from

as well as from Book Omens and Word of God that angels have no instinct beyond curiosity pulling them toward eating or toward gender. From this we can reasonably presume they have no instinct toward Beverages either.

That means that in this moment--

--Crowley is very likely the only metaphysical entity he knows on either side of the divide, or even knows of, who has ever experienced a physical pleasure.

And he probably has some Lingering Questions about it, like we all did the first time a physical pleasure blew our minds. Like,

Is it this strong for everyone?

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I going to hurt myself if I do this, like, a lot?

And it's not like the poor creature can ask anyone, because the answers for humans aren't necessarily going to apply to him.

So when he sees an opportunity, Crowley gets that one angel he knows who'll talk to him to try a human thing, and then he watches to see if physical pleasure hits the angel as hard as it hit him.

And that's why he looks so creepily pleased when it does.

Apparently it is this strong for everyone and there isn't anything wrong with him. Now he can relax and get sloshed without worrying, and he even has someone to talk to about how rad human stuff is.

A Dip Into Speculation

We know because we're shown this isn't the first time Crowley has gotten drunk that, watching Aziraphale, Crowley understands what he's seeing. I think it's really interesting that Crowley doesn't laugh at Aziraphale at any point during this scene, and he doesn't correct the way he's eating, either.

Maybe it's because this is what it was like for Crowley the first time. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and woke up in a puddle of his own sick. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and didn't wake up at all, and there was Paperwork and he had to get used to a whole new corporation just when he'd got the hang of having legs in the old one. Maybe somebody had to show him how to use a fork or whatever they had going on for eating utensils in Ancient Mesopotamia. I distinctly remember having to learn as a small child to chew with my mouth closed. There is every possibility Crowley doesn't consider the way Aziraphale is eating to be worthy of ridicule because whatever Crowley did the first time was worse.

Maybe he wants to leave Aziraphale set up for later embarrassment over his table manners. Aziraphale was a judgy bitch about the wine.

Or maybe it's something like Let him have this one. There can be rules to it later; let him just enjoy it, once, like a little kid with both fists in their birthday cake.

Maybe it's desire. There is some textual evidence for this. Once Aziraphale learns to eat properly, the way he does it is very attractive, and we know Crowley loves watching him do it.

I don't think it's overreaching even to interpret David Tennant's physical performance of Crowley watching Aziraphale eat as one of sensual or erotic pleasure. I mean--

I'm not saying it absolutely has to be erotic, but it's not a reach, or even a full extension of the elbow, to read it that way.

There's another meta somewhere [I'll link it when I find it again; if you know this meta, please drop it in comments!] that discusses how this exchange in Job's basement is filmed like an erotic scene.

Like Crowley, we all want to kiss this face.

Aziraphale isn't eating prettily, but he's eating lewdly, ravenously, desirously, and it's lit like romantic sex, not like gluttony. Whether that's funny or poignant or hot may depend on the viewer. Here's how Crowley's handling it:

Srs tho, any frame of this scene could have been painted by Artemisia Gentileschi.

Or maybe--and this is my favorite of the available interpretations--maybe this is what it was like for Crowley the first time and he doesn't interfere because he wants Aziraphale to come out of this as someone who's had the same experience Crowley's had so Crowley won't be so totally alone in having had it.

[stxrvel]

the one where you stood there and watched (4)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.

Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.

Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.

There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.

“Yuna.”

Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.

But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:

“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”

Four pairs of eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.

“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”

Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.

The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.

“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”

You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.

“And what did she say to you, honey?”

Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.

“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”

Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.

“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”

Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.

“Why did you do that?”

“What did I do?”

“Sol told me it was your idea.”

“That's not true!”

“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”

Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:

“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”

The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.

“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”

“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.

Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.

“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.

“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”

Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.

If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.

Your friend finally softened her gaze.

“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”

“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”

Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.

“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.

There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.

“Are you still upset, noona?”

Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.

It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.

“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”

Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.

“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”

“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”

“And I can't handle both?!”

“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”

Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.

“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”

You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.

“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”

When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.

“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”

Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.

“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.

“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.

Seojun sighed dramatically.

“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”

Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.

“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”

Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.

“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”

Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:

“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”

Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.

“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”

“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”

Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.

“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”

Your mom nodded, not very convinced.

“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”

“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.

“… no…”

“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”

“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”

“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”

“That's an exaggeration, mom…”

“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”

“…I muffled a few words.”

A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.

“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.

“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.

“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”

“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”

You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:

“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”

-

“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”

Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.

But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.

That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.

“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”

Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.

“Tae!”

“Why are you doubting it?”

“I never said I was doubting it.”

Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.

“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”

“y/n!”

Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.

“Don't ever do that again.”

“Then don't ever doubt you again.”

“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”

“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.

“Honest...?”

“Shut up, Jimin.”

The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.

“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”

“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”

“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”

“Uh-huh…”

“Stop it, Jimin!”

-

He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.

So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.

A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.

“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”

“Who contacted you?”

“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”

Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.

“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.

“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”

Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.

Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.

Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .

But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?

“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”

He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.

Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?

“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”

Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.

It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.

Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.

The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.

“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”

Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.

“I've never asked you for anything…”

“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”

And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.

“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”

Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.

“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.

“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”

He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.

He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.

-

i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592@yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @butnotmontana @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @chaotickyrith @dreamerwasfound @darlingz99

[badgyalshii]

ITS NEVER OVER

Paul Atreides x Reader (always safe for POCS + Plus size)

1.1k word count i believe?

warnings! spoliers. light fluff. idk if i put language in here,

A/N: i love sad fics n this is my first fic in a longgggg time, i had to crack my knuckles and pop my back a few times for this one, but i hope yall read and enjoy and im so down to write a part two if yall want it or if i feel like it, i basically used to be the cory of tumblr (disappearing for like a month like nun happened😒) have a goodnight, besos😘

about?: immediately after paul offers to take the princess as his wife, your eyebrows furrow in confusion

Access part II here. I . II . III . IV .

Have you gotten stabbed in the chest? Or in the back. You couldn't tell, but you thickly swallowed. Hiding your tears and trying to focus on the fight between Paul and the unknown bald man, named feyd, but you couldn't even focus. Your mouth hung as tears brimmed your eyes, no one was focused on you and you were sure of it, thankfully.

You felt a hand cling onto your elbow giving a light squeeze before you heard a whisper in your ear. “Don't cry. It is only for the current circumstance. He doesn't love her” chani whispered, trying to seem not suspicious as she stood next to you. You looked down in return, a tear dropped. You looked up, and then you looked at paul. He betrayed you. He'd say he'd love you as long as he'd breathe, but where is he now? You had a bad poker face. Everyone knew it, but this was such a heated situation, nobody had time for the crying games. Paul looked at you, it was clear he felt for you, but he had to stay firm, stern.

Chani gave you one more squeeze before letting you loose and watching the fight. The man you loved. The man you took you away from reality to across the universe within one touch from under the sheets. The one who made your heart one, the one you'd share so many memories with. Are they lost now? How could he let you go so easily?

“My heart yearns, y/n” he whispered, the shared couple naked inbetween the sheets and the thin cotton of a blanket. You said nothing but looked him in the eye, drinking him in as his lagoon blue eyes pierced through your own. “We can't both be sensitive, Muad'Dib, you are the chosen. Legends say so '' you whispered against his soft lips as he touched your back softly rubbing over it. “What if it's not what I want?” “does it matter? You've made it so far.” you switch from each of his eyes and put your hands in his hair, soothing him assuringly.

He rubbed his nose against yours, “what if i lose you?” he muttered, breaking eye contact. “As long as we have love, nothing can be lost, paul '' you whispered. Such a desperate moment. Everything was so transparent. You lifted yourself and Paul sighed. “I love you” he said, aloud. “I love you more, so much more”

Did he? Did he mean it, at least. You were so desperate for an answer, but the sound of a stab pierced through your flashback, your breath quickened as fear slapped on your face ever so suddenly. Your chest heaved heavily as you watched, chani pinched you. You tried to maintain your strength as you watched Paul on the floor.

“This your pet?” feyd asked, pointing the dagger at you. Paul looked at you with no emotion. What was going through his head? You didn't know, but even more fear rushed over you as feyd continued closer, a sly smirk played on his face. He could tell that you were something important considering the dried tear across your cheek. “Your pet any important to you?” he still questioned, but paul remained silent. Only got up to continue the fight. You couldn't help but feel eyes on you, and you looked up from the fight to see Paul's new bride staring you down, a questioning look upon her face as she eyed you up and down.

The battle ended, and Paul won. You watched as everyone else bowed before you but you stood standing. Paul looked back at you, before turning away. Chani looked at you from her bowed stance. You remained looking at Paul before your people stood and Paul told them to lead the holy war. The only ones who remained in the room were you, Paul, the emperor, and the princess. “I will be back, stay” he demanded, he didn't use his voice as a command, but he looked back at you, and you were gone, he searched for you as he left the room, only to find you crying and against a wall, hand over your face to hide your tears.

“My love” Paul whispered, quickly pacing and lowered by your side. You only weeped in return, you couldn't even look at him. “y/n” he held onto you. “What have you done? Have I not given my all to you? Must you not love me?” you said through broken cries. “y/n, i love you, i will always for as long as i breathe. This is just protocol-”

“It wasn't necessary, I watched. I've watched you, standing behind you. Who are you? Paul?” you looked up at him. Your face said it all, the tears strolling down your cheeks. His hand remained on your arm and his other hand placed on your cheek. Wiping a tear. “We can't both be sensitive, I am chosen” Paul recites, using your own words against you. You looked at him in disbelief. “Paul” you sniffled, he pressed his bloody forehead against yours and placed both of his hands on the sides of your face, “i love you” you whined, fighting tears and fighting the cry that wanted to leave your lips. “I know, I know, I love you and I will come back for you, will you stay? Must you stay, wait for-”

“Wait for you?” you scoff, choking on your sob. “Are you insane? Wait for you, watch you marry a woman you don't even know, who doesn't even know you. All those times we've pillow talked, stripped naked and not only physically but emotionally. You confessed, paul, you did” you looked at him through your eyelashes. He had nothing to say, his lips remained parted, searching for a way to bring you such needed comfort, but he couldn't. He couldn't support you the way you needed to be, not anymore at least. “no tears? do you feel nothing paul?! i've loved you since the moment i saw you, i told everyone to trust you, give you respect, this is a smack in the face. thank you for wasting my time”

You stood and left Paul where he sat. “You know where I am. I won't be anywhere else. You come to me when you forgive me and when you're ready to talk. I'll love you for a million years, with you by my side or not, I have you in my heart. I place a piece of my heart in your chest too. Must you not deny me, I love our pillow talks, our soften kisses. The way your hair feels between my fingers. I will be here, I will” he finishes, as he watches you walk off. He slowly stood as he watched you look at him before you turned the corner. Not saying a word, but a silent goodbye. as you walked, you could hear a slam against the wall and a curse from pauls lips, but you must go, chani taught you better.

What he said was beautiful. You couldn't deny, but the betrayal stood close in your vision. You met with chani and she pulled you in for a long hug. “It's okay to feel how you feel, but for now, we have places to go” she placed a hand over your heart ¨strong heart, strong mind¨ she spoke in language and placed her pointer finger on your forehead where pauls blood lied. You only nodded and she led the way to the new path of life.

[dedalvs]

When will humankind learn the lesson of its hubris and begin to heal itself? Also can you recommend any undergraduate or graduate level resources (textbooks etc.) for learning about fiction? I already read Writing Fiction by Burroway. Thanks in advance

January 14, 3182. Make a note of the date and return to this post when it comes.

To your second question, I've never read anything on writing fiction, only writing in general. I've found something valuable in every book on writing, even if there were things in the book I found less valuable. For example, I read Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg, and while there was much of it I didn't care for, there are some passags that have stuck with me 22 years later. When it comes to writing guides, I think the best thing to do is read what interests you while understand that what you are really doing is building your own writing guide inside you. You're absorbing what you find personally meaningful and using it to create your own personal styleguide that, like it or not, you'll be following for the rest of your life. Rather than rejecting that, and trying to decide which text will be the text that tells you how to write, embrace it, realize that you are going to do what you're going to do, and then try to work within that framework. That is, if that's what's happening, how will you approach a styleguide? What will it mean to you to read a very didactic text (i.e. "All serious writers must do x; no serious writer every does y") vs. a loosey-goosey one (e.g. "Dance naked in the garden of your creativity and allow your flowers to bloom!")? What are you looking for in these texts and what will you do with information or strategies that you find valuable?

Returning to Writing Down the Bones, I have to say I found the book to be mostly woo. It was more a kind of self-help/empowerment book than a book on writing, in my opinion. But there is something in there that I'm sure I'd heard before but which finally resonated with me. Specifically, it was the way she articulated that it really, truly doesn't matter what you put on the page when you're drafting. Drafting is not the time to reject. Even some idea comes to you that you find absurd, illogical, thematically inappropriate—whatever. It's not the time to push it away. Indeed, it's wasted effort. Editing and revising is the time to question. If you're writing, you shouldn't let anything stop you—even your own brain.

Why it took till then for this idea to take root, I don't know. It could be how she worded it. It could be that it came at the right time. Perhaps I was more open to new ideas when I was reading this book. It may also have something to do with a transition that had taken place for me in writing. After all, when I started high school, I was not regularly using a computer (we'd only just gotten a computer that stayed at home). When I started writing, I wrote by hand—on paper. It's a much, much different thing to edit and revise when you're writing on paper than it is on when you're working on a computer! I mean, digital real estate is cheap. When you're writing by hand, it can literally hurt to write seven or eight pages—and then to discard them in editing! Right now I'm working on a novel draft where I've decided an entire section needs to come out. If I'd written that by hand?! I can't even imagine.

I guess the tl;dr of it is I don't have a specific text to recommend. Rather, I encourage you to look around and grab anything that interests you. In doing so, though, I encourage you to approach it differently, focusing on what in it you find valuable, without either wholly rejecting it or feeling you have to follow it to the letter like an Ikea manual. I even found something valuable in C. S. Lewis's The Abolition of Man, which I honestly can't believe I read.

If you'd like some fiction advice that may be generally useful no matter what you're writing, this is what I can offer:

A valuable skill to hone is being able to read your work as if you have no other knowledge of it. In other words, you need to be able to read your work like a reader. One of the most difficult things to do with fiction is to cut. You usually have a lot more characterization, a lot more plot points, a lot more detail, etc. than end up on the page. The important question is if you cut something, will the reader notice? Will it actually feel like something's miss it, or will a reader never notice? Mind, I'm not saying that as a writer you can't tell if something is superfluous, or that anything you cut will be superfluous. I'm saying sometimes even if you cut something important a reader will still get the impression that what they are reading is whole and unedited. That isn't a good thing or a bad thing: it's a neutral thing. The question you'll have to answer is what is this whole that the reader is getting, and is that whole something you're satisfied with?

Get multiple rounds of feedback from many different readers. I say this not because it's vital, because beta readers are important, because you have to have multiple perspectives on your work, etc. None of that. Getting feedback from many different readers is a form of self-care on the part of the writer. I was deathly afraid of feedback as a young writer. I welcomed praise, sure, but anything else felt too painful to bear. This changed when I took a short fiction class at Berkeley. Suddenly a short story of mine wasn't getting one round of feedback: it was getting fourteen. And not just from the professor, but from fellow students. This was a minor revolution for me in terms of accepting feedback. If I were to take, say, one round of feedback, certainly there would be some praise, but there would also be notes like "awkward phrasing", "why did x character do y?", "this is unclear", "too much description", etc. These things would burn me. I would seethe reading them, and it would hurt so deeply. But! Imagine that one of them circles a paragraph and writes "too much description" and then the other thirteen readers say absolutely nothing at all about that paragraph—maybe one even puts a smiley face next to it. THAT puts the criticism in its proper context. Maybe your writing isn't too bad! Maybe there isn't too much description. Maybe that particular reader just wasn't vibing with it, and maybe that's okay. And then let's look at it from the other perspective. Say thirteen out of fourteen papers have a sentence marked and all of them say things like "huh?", "what's this mean?", "confusing", etc. Guess what? The sentence is probably confusing. And for some reason if everyone's saying the same thing it hurts a lot less. It means, yeah, you probably made a little mistake, and that's okay. It's not one person singling you out, and it's not the case that they don't know what they're talking about. I can't emphasize enough how freeing it is to look at reviews of your work if you have a handful or more to draw from rather than just a single good friend.

It's okay to write the fun part first. You may have a plot device you're really excited about, but to get there, you have to introduce your characters, have them get together, have them go to a place, meet someone else, etc. And it may take time and energy to write all that. You may feel pressured to get through that before you get to the part you really want to write. You certainly can, but you do not have to. I don't know if younger writers can appreciate exactly what it means to have a computer. You can write a little bit now and literally copy and paste it into some other document later. Try doing that with a typewriter! You can write something like "Insert paragraphs later of characters traveling to x location". You can even drop a variable in there so it's easy to find with the search function later (e.g. "ZZZZZ insert scene description here"—now you just need to search for "ZZZZZ"). You can put it in a different color on the screen so it's easy to find when scrolling. You can paste a freaking photo into your document! It's extraordinary what you can do with a computer that you couldn't do in years past. You've got a ton of options. But most importanly, when your work is done, no one will know what order you wrote it in.

In fiction, nothing has to happen. Villains don't have to be punished; heroes don't have to win; characters don't have to have a specific arc that comes to some conclusion. Honestly, one of the tropes (if you can even call it a trope) that I find most frustrating in sequels for movie franchises is after the characters are introduced, they take a few character and assign to them the major story conflict, and then for the rest, they give them a mini arc. It's like, "Mondo 2: Exploding the Mondoverse sees our hero Larjo Biggins take on new villain the Krunge as the very core of the Mondoverse is threatened with destruction! Also, Siddles Nuli learns its okay to be left out sometimes and she shouldn't get her feelings hurt, and Old Mucko learns that even though technology is advancing, sometimes good old fashioned common sense is just what the doctor ordered!" If you get to the end of your story, and you feel it's done, you don't have to panic if you suddenly realize we don't know whether Hupsi ever made it to Bumbus 7. It's okay if Story A is resolved but Story B is not.

I don't care if you used Trope A in your new story even though you used Trope A in your past seven stories and neither should you. Seriously, you think anyone was complaining when Agatha Christie put out another mystery novel? "Oh. Mystery again, huh? Gee, we were all hoping you'd write a book about the struggles traditional fishing villages are facing in the wake of industrial modernization." No we fucking weren't!

I hope you find some of this useful. Whether you did or not, though, be sure you enjoy what you're doing. If you are, you're doing the right thing.

[koolades-world]

hello ^^

was wondering if youd be able to write something about the demon brothers (and maybe diavolo too) with mc whos a little dumb? as in they forget a lot of stuff (what day it is, where they put something only a few seconds ago, etc) and dont know a lot of things even if its obvious. theyre also a bit gullible and fall for fake news or scams a lot. basically a bimbo/himbo type of mc.

hi!! yeah sure thing!

actually went to google if there was a gender neutral version of bimbo himbo and apparently there actually is

presenting: thembo! haha I love this term

enjoy :)

Thembo/Himbo/Bimbo Mc

Lucifer

very protective of you

can't help but internally smile whenever you forget your train of thought or asks him what today's date is for the third time

if there's an unreliable news source that keeps finding it's way into your hands he sees personally that they mysteriously goes out of business

gotten surprisingly good at finding things you lost, like he'll just move one thing out of the way and what you're looking for will be there (big mom energy here)

Mammon

he's a himbo himself tbh

you're cut from the same cloth so you can be silly together

100% both of you will ask each other the time, check your D.D.D., and only leave that situation with what percent it's at so you have to check again and still don't have the time

you match each other's energy so well it's meant to be

Levi

he's not quite sure how to feel at first

he gets overwhelmed by the amount of questions you ask, but once you start asking questions about his games, you're instantly close

he doesn't mind repeating himself since you actually care about him

sometimes he forgets everything besides gaming so he gets it

Satan

if Mammon is your birds of a feather flock together, he's your opposite attract moment, even better than Lucifer

he always makes sure to let you know if something you've heard is fake or not and always makes it a lesson even though despite you listening, never seems to stick but that's ok he still loves you

however he loves how you embrace all of the things he loves even if you don't fully get it, like all the more complicated books he reads for fun

it's alright he has enough brains for the both of you lol

Asmo

sometimes he's very himbo so he has solutions to your problems

gives you a cute little invisible ink pen that activates when you stand or sit in spots you're in a lot to write on your arm with since regular ink isn't cute (solomon made it <3)

always asks you if you have everything before you leave the house with a checklist, and when you got home

please make sure to thank him!!

Beel

he also has the same oblivious nature, but he's more dense while you're more airhead

if you put your heads together (and with a little help from belphie) you can usually figure it out

will help you look for your D.D.D. while the both of you use the flashlight on your D.D.D.

ultimate duo fr

Belphie

he thinks you're so silly but tries to keep any playfully mean comments to a minimum

sometimes he can't help but poke fun at you but afterwards he always tells you he's sorry and tells you you're pretty

straight up puts tracking devices on important items that you handle everyday so that if you lose something, you can easily find it again, such as your toothbrush and textbooks

Diavolo

another sorta himbo, since he seems like he has no idea what he's doing but actually is very aware

if you lose something and really can't find it, no worries! he can just buy you a new one or have the Little D's search for it since they'll do anything to help you out

very understanding and sweet about it since he kinda gets it

the both of you can embrace this lifestyle together

[wordsarelife]

—bigger than the whole sky

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: you get bad news and theo is conflicted about it being his fault

warnings: sad, but ends in (kinda) fluff, trauma, mentions of war

theo was watching you as he always did as you sat at the avenclaw table, chattering with your friends.

his friends were used to that weird habit of his, it seemed like wherever you went, theo was close to watch over you.

"what is it with you and that girl?" mattheo's voice made theo raise his head.

"y/n?" theo asked surprised.

"of course, y/n" blaise rolled his eyes next to him. "what other girl could he possibly mean? all you ever do is stare at her"

"we're friends" theo shrugged. it was true. you guys weren't the best friends in the world but would occasionally meet up on the astronomy tower since you had run into each other there in third year. theo had recognized the book under your arm and you had spend and hour sitting and talking about it.

you often came there now to exchange books and read in silence or talk about them after you had finished them.

"yeah, looks like it" draco said sarcastically as he watched theo's eyes glide back to your form.

"just admit you're in love with her and they'll stop bugging you" pansy nudged the tall boy next to her and theo just shrugged.

"i don't know"

"you don't know, what?" draco asked with a raised brow "you don't know if you're in love with her?"

theo nodded his head and his friends sighed simultaneously.

"how can you not know that?" enzo spoke for the first time "have you never been in love?"

"just because you fall in love with every girl you see, doesn't mean we all do" mattheo joked and enzo frowned at him.

"i'm just not sure, okay?" theo said defensively, without taking his eyes off of you "and even if.. it would never work"

without theo noticing, pansy smiled at him, as he watched his eyes light up as you noticed his eyes and raised your hand, waving at him. "how do you feel around her?" pansy asked softly.

"warm" theo simply said, before he continued "when she looks at me, it feels like the sun glazing my skin during the summer. and when she laughs it sounds like the wind moving the trees. i have the need to keep her safe all the time, even though i know that nothing will happen to her here"

"i think you have your answer, mate" blaise said and theo had never noticed him sounding so sincere and serious. he looked between his friends. they all spotted a similar expression, atleast until his eyes fell on pansy, who looked like she was about to cry.

"that was beautiful" she muttered, while she snuffled her nose "why don't you ever say things like that about me, draco?"

draco's eyes widened in surprise, before his face spotted an expression similar to betrayal, as he turned his head to look at theo. "thanks, mate, for raising the bar to the sky"

pansy slapped his arm and draco's eyes were back on her again, just like theo had already turned his head back at you, not even hearing a word of what draco had said.

you threw your head back, laughing at something the girl next to you had said, before you turned your head and raised your eyebrows in surprise as an unfamiliar owl landed on the table in front of you.

theo raised his eyebrows too. he watched as you ripped open the letter and your eyes scanned the paper. he could not read the expression on your face and was wondering what you were thinking, when you quickly muttered something to the girl next to you and stood up, rushing out of the hall.

"was she crying?" blaise asked surprised and theo quickly remembered seeing a few tears slipping over your cheeks.

and then he knew what letter you had just gotten.

"a ministry owl" he said for his friends to hear. he didn't have to further explain. they all knew what that meant

"oh" pansy said and all color vanished from her face. "do you think..?" she left the question unfinished and theo just nodded.

"where do you think she'll go?"

"i know where" theo muttered "but i'm not sure that i should be the one to comfort her now"

"what? why not?" mattheo shrugged "you clearly love her"

theo looked up from the table and his friends noticed the hint of tears in his eyes "what if it was my father? i can't possibly try to comfort her, when i'm one of them, can i?"

"you're not one of them" pansy shook her head "you're not you're father, none of us are our parents"

"that doesn't matter. there's a war brewing and when it comes down to it, i'm on the wrong side"

"you're still her friend" draco argued.

"draco is right and that you're conflicted on all this shows how much you care enough to not let your beliefs come between you two" pansy said.

"go" enzo nodded.

theo stood up from the table and walked out of the hall in a quick step. he took two steps at once when he walked up the astronomy tower. just like he expected you were already there.

you were staring down to the grounds of hogwarts, while quite tears ran over your cheeks. they were reddened just like your eyes and despite it all, theo thought that you were incredibly beautiful.

you turned around when one of the floorboards made a sound when he stepped closer, but quickly relaxed once you noticed it was him.

"hey" theo muttered, before he sat down beside you. "is it alright if i sit with you?"

"you already are" you shrugged, but there was no malicious intent in your voice and theo relaxed.

you sighed, before you pushed the letter from the ministry in the taller boys direction. theo's eyes scanned the words on the page.

"they burned our whole house down" theo looked up from the paper when you started speaking. "they didn't find my parents once the aurors arrived. they're not sure if they could flee, or if the death eaters took them"

"i'm sorry" theo muttered, while he folded the paper. "i hope they're alright. i wish i could do something"

"you've come here" you said softly, before you moved closer to him and put your head an his shoulder. theo reluctantly raised his arm and then gently rested his hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer.

"do they know who did it?"

"mmh?"

"do they know which death eaters—“ you sat up suddenly and theo fell silent.

you frowned at him, scrunching your eyebrows together as you thought about what he was implying with that. you were not stupid, you knew that many of your classmates parent's were involved with the wrong people.

theo just stared at you blankly, while you did the same. neither of you said a word, before he tried to look away.

"what are you talking about?" you asked, bringing his attention back to you.

"nothing, i just--"

you could read the sadness and regret in his eyes. he looked like he was personally at fault for whatever had happened to your home and family.

"you think your father could have done it"

his eyes widened when he heard the anger in your voice. he watched as you stood up from the floor and walked to the middle of the tower.

"y/n" theo muttered, as he rose to his feet and followed you. he was interpreting your anger in the wrong way. "i'm sorry, i know that i--"

"that you what?" you said angrily as your turned around to look at him. "this is not your fault, theo. you don't get to think or say it is"

theo raised his eyebrows as he realized what you were really angry about. you weren't angry that both of your lifes had been dedicated to opposing sides through the acting of your parents. no, you were angry that he thought he was somehow to blame for something that had been decided before he was born.

"i don't know what i can do, y/n" theo said helplessly "i want to comfort you, but how could i when there's a chance that i'm a part of what caused your hurt" "you're not part of any hurt, theo" you shook your head "what's happening out there has nothing to do with you and me"

"but what if it has?" theo gulped and tears shimmered in his eyes "what if the war comes and we have to kill each other"

"i won't let it come to that"

"how can you know?"

"i don't know anything, i just know that right now, all i want is for you to hold me"

theo looked at you for a few seconds and you weren't sure if he would just turn around and walk away, but he softly nodded his head, before he opened his arms, so that you could step inside.

after a few minutes, you softly stepped back and took his face in both of your hands.

"i don't know what's going to happen to us, theo" you whispered as theo watched you closely. he felt the warmth of your hands on his cheeks and your touch felt so familiar that he wasn't sure if he could ever live without it. "all i know is that we will not become the victims of our parents decisions"

theo nodded and you did the same. he softly kissed your forehead, before he brought you back to his chest and just held you for what felt long enough to fix anything that had not yet happened to you.

[djarinova]

candles and cuddles

spencer reid x gn reader

Spencer comes home from a day out in the city and finds you feeling overwhelmed and tired, so he helps you get the rest you need to recharge yourself. content - fluff, comfort, cuddles words - 2.2k

The keyrings rattling outside in the hallway stir you from your thoughts and you smile briefly, knowing that this means Spencer will be walking through the door any second now. You can hear him struggle to get the key separate from all the keyrings, and you can’t help but feel giddy. Despite the fact that you know he likes to keep his keys fairly free and accessible, he still uses all the keyrings that you’ve gotten him from the various trips you have taken, both with and without him.

“I bought this really cool book. Come and read it with me?” Spencer asks, his voice alerting you to his presence, now inside your shared apartment.

You look up from your spot on the sofa, tilting your head to indicate your question. 

“Would you like me to explain what the book is about?” His voice is gentle; in the same way a hot bath can soothe achy muscles, his voice soothes the aches in your soul.

You nod your head in response, straightening your back and stretching your legs out in front of you. You had been sitting in the same spot for the last few hours, waiting for Spencer to get back from town. He had been out shopping and had stopped for lunch somewhere with Derek, leaving you to fend for yourself at home for the afternoon. You’d managed to get a couple of the chores done from the long list you’d given yourself, but for some reason once the dusting in the lounge was completed you had found yourself almost completely devoid of motivation.

“Are you sure?” He pauses before adding, “are you okay?”

He puts his bag down without looking at the floor, and steps towards you. His eyebrows knit in worry and confusion, your lack of words seemingly causing him to be concerned for you. 

You clear your throat before speaking. 

“Yes I'm sure. I'm okay, I promise.” You give a small half smile to try and back up your words, and to try and convince Spencer, but by the look on his face you know he doesn't believe you. Goddamn profilers. 

“Did you have a good afternoon?”

You hope that asking him a couple questions will help to ease you back into talking, but your voice is very small when you first speak, and you assume it's because you haven't spoken out loud since he left. 

“Yes, we did, thank you. Derek was unhappy about being dragged around to all the small, dingy bookstores, his words not mine, but I think he forgave me after I bought him lunch.”

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, it does sound a lot like Derek, he loves to tease Spencer. Even more so when they’re both out shopping and Spencer is trying to buy new books, he’s said to you before that Derek finds his need for over checking and going back and forth a million times between stores a little excessive sometimes, all to ensure the perfect book is bought, but you know Derek only means it lovingly. He'd never say or do anything hurtful towards Spencer intentionally. 

“That sounds about right.” You answer with a laugh. 

Spencer is right in front of you now, having removed his scarf and coat, leaving them untidily thrown about on the nearest chair. 

You feel the sofa dip under Spencer’s weight, and you can tell by his short sigh that he wants to ask you if you're okay again, but you speak before he's able to. 

“It's okay Spence, I really am okay. Just tired I think.”

Spencer nods, willing himself not to keep prying. He knows if something was really wrong you would tell him, he just needs to give you some time first. He has come to know your ticks and quirks quite well now, the two of you had decided to move in together almost a year ago now, and you had been friends long before your romantic relationship started, so he is familiar with how your brain works. 

He watches you as you shut your laptop and place it on the table, his eyes following your hands as he shuffles back into the sofa to get comfortable. As you lean back Spencer puts his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. You let out an audible breath of relief at the contact, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer. 

“Do you want to take a nap with me?” Spencer asks, squeezing your shoulder with his hand. 

“Spence, you know I'm not good with na—”

“I know, but resting can help with feelings of exhaustion, even if you don't actually fall asleep. It's important to let yourself rest in order to help boost your mood, and resting can also help reduce stress and improve your creativity and motivation.” He pauses, tilting his head to look at you, before adding, “I don't want you to burn yourself out.”

Spencer punctuates the end of his sentence with a smile, and you can't help but smile back. The ways in which he wants to help and look after you never fail to make you happy. 

“Okay,” you agree, “let's go to bed for a bit.”

You can tell Spencer is happy you said yes by the way he jumps up almost immediately, extending his hand toward you and practically pulling you to your feet. You let out a laugh as he drags you to your shared bedroom, watching as he struggles to hold your hand and get the room organised enough for you both to relax on the bed comfortably at the same time. 

“Spence, it's okay, I'll sit.” 

He looks at you as if he'd forgotten you were still attached to his hand, almost as though he'd become so used to your presence beside him that he hadn't even thought to let your hand go, even if it meant he'd be able to organise the room better. 

Spencer had long considered you a part of him, almost since the very first moment he had met you. The way you seemed to light up the room as soon as you entered, your smile was warm and inviting, and your voice… He had never heard anything like it. He hadn't turned around upon your entrance on that first day, he knew that Emily had invited a friend to the bar, but he was focused on watching Derek play pool against Rossi. Although, more accurately, he was focused on telling Derek the precise ways in which he was bound to lose the game; the way his stance was wrong, the way his hold on the cue was wrong and how he was breathing at all the wrong times in order to make the perfect shot. But as soon as he heard you introduce yourself to JJ and Penelope his head had whipped around, his eyes falling on you immediately. There was no mistaking his feeling in that moment, he needed to know you. 

And he hasn't lost that feeling in all the years he'd known you, it had grown and changed as the two of you had become more and more familiar. What once was needing to know you, had then changed to needing to hear you, needing to see you, and now, needing to be near you.

Even as he gently let go of your hand and watched you quickly sit on the edge of your bed he wished he was nearer to you. He wished he could feel your soft skin against his, and feel your chest rise and fall with your breathing.

His longing made his organisation an entertaining thing to watch. His steps were hurried, his feet tumbling over each other and you were surprised he hadn't fallen head over heels yet. You placed your hands on the bed behind you, leaning back onto them slightly as your eyes followed Spencer around the room. He was caught in his own world and luckily didn’t notice your staring, although you could feel your face heat up at the thought of him catching you. He was focused on clearing the bed at first, he had moved the scattered papers and books left there from your morning in bed, and had moved them onto the chair beside you. Next he had ensured all the curtains were closed, only left open the tiniest crack to allow some of the air to flow in from the open window. He had then flicked off the main overhead light, choosing to turn on the warm bedside lamp on his side of the bed instead. And finally, he fluffed up your pillow, turning to you when he was done and extending his hand towards you, stretching it as far as you could in a bid to get closer to you.

Smiling, you accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and lead you towards your side of the bed. He had left your favourite green fleece blanket at the end of the bed, and as soon as you laid down he wasted no time before placing it over your body. You smiled, wiggling a little to get comfy. Spencer checked the room one last time, as though he needed everything to be perfect for you, and paused. You weren't sure what he was doing. At first all you could see was his back as he rummaged through a draw, but it didn't take long for you to realise his idea once he turned to face you. He was holding a matchbook.

“Which scent?” He asks simply.

“Hmmmm,” you tilt your head and purse your lips while you think. “I don’t know, there’s so many— Oh! How about the white jasmine and sandalwood candle you got me last week? I haven't had a chance to use it yet.”

Spencer nods, and wordlessly walks to your bedside to light the candle. He smiles as he watches you slowly close your eyes, happy that you’ve given yourself some time to rest.

“Spence? Are you going to continue watching me, or are you going to come and join me under this blanket?” 

His smile widens to a grin at your words.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m coming.”

And, true to his word, after barely a minute he is next to you. 

You curl your body towards his, lifting your neck so he can slot his arm underneath it. You can feel Spencer bouncing his foot ever so slightly underneath the blanket, and you smile, leaning further into his chest. You hadn't realised how tired you had been, but you feel it now. You take a deep breath, wanting to relax yourself even more. You can smell the outside on Spencer’s shirt, a fact that, although is not unsurprising, does make you a tad disappointed. Until you met Spencer you never realised how addicting it can be to be enveloped in a partner’s smell, you never realised that a smell could make you feel so relaxed and so calm. Draping your leg across Spencer’s body you take another not so subtle sniff, trying to smell that familiar mix of vanilla, coconut and coffee.

“Are you smelling me?”

You bury your face in his chest before answering, and you feel Spencer squeeze your arm.

“Yes.” You whisper.

“You like how I smell?” His question is genuine, but his voice is small—almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

You crane your neck upwards to look at Spencer.

“Yes.” You whisper again, with a smile on your lips.

You feel your cheeks warm as Spencer looks at you, you think he must be looking for a sign of teasing on your face. 

When he doesn't find one he pulls you even tighter against his chest.

“Thank you.” He breaths, the words barely perceptible. 

You smile, wrapping your arms around him as best as you can from this angle, and you feel his other arm lay on your side. His touch completely surrounds you, and you can hear his heart beating in his chest. The rhythm relaxes you, and coupled with the candle and the dim lit room, you find your eyes beginning to feel heavy. You know sleep is not far away now. 

“I love you Spence.” You whisper. “Thank you for looking after me.”

Spencer watches you as you finish speaking, he loves that he was able to help you this afternoon. And, despite your regular insistence that you can't nap, he feels your head go heavy and he can hear your breathing change. He knows you must be practically asleep now, but he doesn’t mind, he always has his thoughts to keep him company, and luckily when you’re in his arms he knows it will always be the good thoughts, and never the bad ones.

“I love you too, baby.” 

Spencer’s voice is quiet so as to not disturb your peaceful rest, but he hopes you hear him. He hopes you are able to hear what his actions say to you.

I love you, I love you, I love you

You mean everything to me

[peaches-and-creamm]

LOVE LANGUAGES!

a/n: thanks 🎥 nonnie for requesting sm! means a lot! hope i do ur requests justice 🙂‍↕️

also i read throu this once and saw how much i did acts of service/gift giving LOL

and nonnie if you're seeing this i'll most likely do the other request you asked for!

featuring: Megumi, Nanami, Toji, Yuta, Toge, Yuji, Satoru, Suguru

warnings: breeding kink in suguru's, fem!reader in suguru's and gn!reader everywhere else!

MEGUMI'S love language would be 🥁🥁

quality time with a sprinkle of words of affirmation!

✎ it's no secret Megumi prefers the idea of "together alone", aka just sitting in the same room each of you doing different tasks or even just scrolling on your phones. (you don't even have to be near each other, honestly-)

✎ one of his favorite activities to do with you is when it's later at night and you're sitting nearby him while he just rambles on about random facts he finds interesting.

✎ the fact you'll just sit there, smiling at him like an idiot while you hold him close to you as you listen to every word he says- even asking him questions about whatever it is he's talking about makes him feel all fuzzy.

✎ at this point you know every little thing that's going on in his book he sometimes likes to read outloud to you, saying his theories or random things that happen to contradict themselves in whatever it is he's reading currently.

✎ a lot of the time he'll awkwardly just clear his throat and apologize for rambling, but each and every time you compliment him by saying you love his voice as he speaks about anything he's passionate about he thinks he falls harder for you(if that was even possible-)

NANAMI'S love language would be🥁🥁

acts of service/gift giving!

✎ Kento really appreciates coming home from a long day and being surprised by the fact the kitchen was clean when he was supposed to be the one doing it- or the smell of something cooking in the kitchen flooding his nose the second he opens the front door just, he just. he really likes it, ok?

✎ He knows he isn't able to be there for you a lot of the time (missions, teaching, ect.) so if you ever come home and he's somehow there before you you best believe there's some sort of little trinket on the table waiting for you.

✎ He's not one for pda all that much but you bet your ENTIRE ass that if he sees you after a long day he doesn't care where you two are because he is about to just hide in your arms while you rub at his back.

✎ And god forbid if he ever returns home and sees how excited you get to show him some random trinket you saw in the store- handing it to him and claiming it reminded you of him. He's literally teared up before over this- (don't call him out though he'll deny it-)

✎ Has an ENTIRE shelf just dedicated to random shit that you've gotten him, and if anyone even looked at it wrong he'd almost get offended (once again, don't call him out-)

TOJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁

acts of service and gift giving! (home made gifts bc bro BROKE!)

✎ ok so we know the dude's kinda a jackass but he does NOT skip out on just randomly giving you just absolutely HIDEOUS homemade gifts.

✎ like? how does he even MAKE them so ugly ?? isn't he good with his hands....??

✎ anywayyy, he'd probably kill anyone(like, actually kill them-) if they ever tried insulting the fact you gave him an ugly stuffed animal that you said reminded you of him

✎ like "why does a grown ass man have a stuffed animal of an ugly monkey...?" then boom, they just got punched in the face

✎ do NOT interrupt this dude when it comes to anything you need. he may be pretty 'cold hearted' but he strikes me as the kinda guy to just stand in front of you if you even slightly squinted from the sun.

✎ he'd get a fucking plank of wood if there was a puddle so you don't ruin those new shoes you've been so excited to get.

✎ so tldr; he'd grovel for you for SURE- and if anyone questions if he loves you they're going home with a black eye 🥰

YUTA'S love language would be 🥁🥁

words of affirmation/physical touch!

✎ ok let's be completely honest here- the dude's just everything starved. So when the two of you started dating (with A LOT of long months of convincing Rika to not obliterate your entire bloodline-),

✎ he was basically just all over you- though it did take a while for him to actually realize it was OK to want to touch you, that you actually liked it, that you weren't just pretending to enjoy it to spare his feelings or something.

✎ as much as he loves going out on dates with you (he'd spend all the money in the world just to see how your eyes sparkle whenever he buys you a new dessert you've been wanting to try-)

✎ his ideal thing would just be the two of you- his head on your chest listening to your steady heartbeat as you caressed his hair- your nails scratching at his scalp every now and then.

✎ and there's been MANY times he's just started crying into your chest while you hold him- just because you remind him how much you love him, how proud of him you were- you would go on and on for hours if it's what he needed to hear.

TOGE'S love language would be 🥁🥁

words of affirmation!

✎ he just needs to know it's okay that he can't talk to you- that it's okay that at night when the two of you are alone holding each other close that it's enough that he's just there with you.

✎ toge loves whenever you compliment him- especially when it's about the marks on his face/tongue.

✎ the way you'll pull down the zipper of his uniform just to plant a kiss against each of his cheeks makes him melt.

✎ compliment him on literally everything please! he loves it so much and it means so much to him- like way more than you could imagine

✎ sometimes(ok, basically nightly-) he'll just be laying in bed, flushed face in his hands while he repeats the compliment you'd given him that particularly made him want to just get on one knee and propose on the spot

✎ I stg this guy is just a big baby- hold him and tell him it's ok and that's all he needs to make his day better tenfold.

YUJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁

physical touch!

✎ I feel like it's so obvious that if you spot him from the corner of your eye you better believe he's about to full sprint to you in excitement and squeeze the ever loving SHIT out of you

✎ he's a spinner for sure- picks you up, spins you around just to hear how you giggle before complaining about how he's making you dizzy

✎ there's rarely a moment where he doesn't just want to squeeze the hell out of your cheeks, and he just fuckn LOVES to squeeze both his and your cheeks together while he tightly hugs you.

✎ if you're in bed together his face is always buried in your shoulder, laying gentle kisses against your skin.

✎ if he isn't being gentle and loving with his kisses he just grabs you by your cheeks and just SMOTHERS your face with kisses.

✎ also he thinks it's really funny to steal some lipstick from either you or nobara just to run up to you and put a FAT kiss against your forehead- leaving a hard to get off mark lasting for hours

✎ he insists on using the waterproof ones because he thinks it's funny to see you walking around with a mark on your forehead because of him-

SATORU'S love language would be 🥁🥁

gift giving(as if that wasn't obvious enough- rich lil asshole)

✎ he does NOT care where you are, what you're doing- NADA

✎ he's runnin' up to you just to shove a shopping bag in your face and proudly putting his hands on his hips while he waits for you to open it.

✎ a few times you were too busy to open one of his gifts and he literally just opened it right in front of you and went "LOOK! LOOK, IT'S THAT BRACELET YOU WANTED- LOOKKK!" like a toddler trying to get his mom's attention.

✎ it always ends in a giggle and a "you need to stop buying these things, you're enough of a gift as is."

✎ he'll pretend to listen but at this point you know better than to believe he'll genuinely stop giving you random shit that reminded him of you.

✎ like what do you mean this ugly shirt that was WAYY too expensive that's also too big reminded him of you??

✎ what do you MEAN you had a mental breakdown because the shirt is a light color and you spilled wine on it and there was a stain that didn't want to come out-

✎ so tldr; DON'T LOOK AT SOMETHING IN THE WINDOW OF A SHOP. HE WILL BUY THE FUCKING STORE-

SUGURU'S love language would be 🥁🥁

words of affirmation/gift giving receiving-

✎ he's on his hands and knees for you- NOPE- don't care if he's supposed to be the leader of this wacky ass cult- you're the only person who's aloud to even remotely give him any sort of order to do somethin'

✎ he likes to give you gifts also, but barely to the extent of Satoru- he prefers handmade gifts over anything store bought. But that's just because he's used to everyone buying him whatever he wishes.

✎ so it's a really nice change of pace whenever you bring him a new origami animal you've been trying to master.

✎ he even has a little table by where he sits up on the little stage, your little art projects resting on them as "beautiful decorations done by my lover."

✎ ^ that's what he says anytime someone asks them about it. he'll happily ramble about how excited you were to gift him each one.

✎ he's addicted to praise, it's actually kinda crazy at this point-

✎ you made a breakfast a small child could've made? he's kissing the ground you walk on for blessing him with a meal in the morning-

✎ plus- if you ever do anything for the girls just know he's about to give you an amazing gift- that gift being his cock while he overly praises your motherly actions.

✎ maybe he'll make you an actual mother just to see how much your loving actions change..

M.LIST!

[pianokantzart]

Seeing @keakruiser making AUs in a bullet point storytelling format inspired me to take a crack at my own AU that I've been thinking about for a bit. What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? Essentially The Super Mario Bros Movie, but with the brothers' roles reversed. So, without further ado...

The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 1)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 ________

The beginning is much the same as it was in the original Super Mario Bros. Movie until they are separated in the warp pipe, with two exceptions: 1. When their van breaks down, Luigi's first instinct is to take the tool kit and try to fix the motor (mechanic Luigi, my beloved). But before he can get a good look, Mario insists that there's not enough time, and heads to the job on foot. Luigi closes the hood of the van and follows him. 2. After Mario leaves the dinner table, the focus goes to Luigi's conversation with his dad rather than Mario holed up in his room.

"What did I say?" "''You're bringing your brother down with you'?" Luigi asks, finally able to get a word in now that his uncles have shut up. "Why would you say that?" "Luigi, be honest. How much did that commercial cost? How many new clients has it gotten you? Huh?" "It's only been a day! And Mario'll figure something out. He always does." Luigi insists, taking his brother's plate of pasta and picking it free of mushrooms. "I just want to help him out along the way."

Pio sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't hide in your brother's shadow your entire life, Luigi. One of these days you're gonna have to man up and start making your own decisions." Luigi doesn't answer, he simply finishes removing the mushrooms from Mario's plate, and gets up from the table to deliver the food to his despondent brother.

After Mario and Luigi attempt to save Brooklyn, after they end up in the warp zone, and after they are ripped from each-other's grasp, Mario is dragged into an unsettling looking pipe surrounded by purple smoke and overgrown with gnarled branches.

Luigi flies onward, emerging from a pipe inside what looks to be another sewer, not too different from the one back in New York. No sooner does he regain his senses does he find himself dragged away by a powerful blast of suction. Flying backwards through the air, he stops suddenly as his back clogs the nozzle of a strange vacuum-like contraption being carried by a little old man.

"Oops! Sorry, Sonny! I thought for certain you were gonna be a ghost!" the old man apologizes, releasing Luigi from the vacuum's suction with a flip of a switch. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device that loosely resembles a hand-held vidoegame console, reexamining the numbers flashing on the screen. "When my readings showed that pipe 983 had suddenly reactivated, I thought for sure King Boo was trying to use it to send his band of ghosts to Sarasaland!"

Before Luigi could ask one of the thousands of questions on his mind, the old man introduces himself: Professor Elvin Gadd (E. Gadd for short.)

Luigi introduces himself in return, then asks about his brother. He tells the professor about their situation in detail, describing the warp pipe that Mario had disappeared into.

E. Gadd tsks sadly and shakes his head. He explains that particular pipe leads to "Evershade Valley," and though the valley used to be perfectly habitable, ever since King Boo shattered The Dark Moon nobody who has set foot in that land has ever returned.

"Wait, what do you mean? Who's King Boo?" Luigi asks "Well! You truly are out of the loop!" E-Gadd chuckles, "Then again... I remember how little I knew when I first arrived in this world." He continues to talk while leading Luigi through the underground, casually clearing a path for them with the powerful blowing and sucking functions of the vacuum. "King Boo is nothing less than the lord of ghosts! He is the master of illusions, the reigning tyrant of the undead, the loather of all living flesh, and– at the moment– the sole ruler of Evershade Valley."

This description unsettles Luigi. He retorts that if that's the case, he has to get to Evershade Valley as soon as possible. As frightened as he is, he's never been so frightened that he couldn't help his brother out of a tough spot, and he knows Mario would do the same for him in a heartbeat.

"Well! In that case I suggest you stick with me for a bit. And keep those tools with you." The old scientist gestures toward the tool bag Luigi had dropped on the ground in the mayhem, "I may have a few uses for them."

Just as Luigi comes to the question of where they are currently, Professor E. Gadd opens a sewer cover and leads him out into the middle of a big bustling coastal city in Sarasaland. Think the Daisy Circuit from Mario Kart, but way larger and more crowded (and missing the romantic statue of course.)

Luigi struggles to keep up with the elderly scientist, who weaves his way effortlessly through throngs of turtle men, snake monsters, insect soldiers, giant sentient heads made out of stone, and a vast array of other strange and fascinating pedestrians.

"Stop your dilly-dallying, youngster!" E. Gadd eventually calls, getting fed up with Luigi's slow, bewildered pace, "I've got a meeting in The Birabuto Kingdom, and my train– our train– leaves in fifteen minutes!" "Birabuto Kingdom?" Luigi asks, allowing himself to be shoved along, "What's that? What about Evershade Valley?" "So impatient! Do you think I'd send you into such a place unprepared??? No no, first I'm going to perfect my equipment, then I'll help you find your brother."

E. Gadd purchases their tickets and they board the crowded 64 Express. Once seated, Luigi's eyes are immediately drawn toward the window. He stares out, deep in anxious thought as the train chugs along, traveling from the coastal city into a desert landscape.

Then, we switch over to Mario. Standing up and dusting himself off, he looks around to find himself in the gloomiest place he'd ever seen... for the little he is able to see. There is a thick purple mist hanging in the air, and the path before him is shrouded in the branches of a forest long dead.

Loudly calling out his brother's name on the off-chance he was somewhere nearby, Mario follows a light in the distance until he stumbles across a lone boo. More confused than frightened, and feeling a little sorry for the white specter shyly covering its face, Mario bends down for a moment to examine it, assuring "hey, don't worry! I won't hurt you, I'm just a little lost is all."

Suddenly, he is ambushed by a colorful trio of ghosts: a greenie, a slammer, and a hider. He tries to fight back, but every time he attempts to shove them off or swing his fists he phases right through them.

His attackers knock him around a bit until Mario succeeds in slipping away. Now in a panic, he continues rushing toward the distant light, far faster and more recklessly than before.

Eventually, he gets close enough to discover the glow was coming from the lit windows of an old mansion. He enters and – for the little good it will do – shuts the door behind him.

He wanders the halls for a long time, roaming from room to empty room, all the while haunted by the shadow of something following him. Something big.

At last, he reaches a towering portrait room. Unlike the rest of the mansion it is teeming with life, full of frightened faces pressed against picture frames, begging for help.

Mario is frozen in a moment of fear and confusion, but quickly snaps out of it. He rushes to the nearest portrait– an image of a strange little mushroom man– to ask what is wrong and what he can do.

Before the toad can give a coherent answer, the eerie presence that Mario had felt when he first entered the mansion casts a looming shadow over him.

He turns around and raises his fists in helpless hopes of defending himself. The candles of the surrounding sconces go out all at once, and in the pitch black darkness a cacophony of cackles fills the air....

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #10: Kurapika (HxH)

He is completely dumbfounded by you

Like how did you end up working for the Nostrade family?

How did you even manage to become a hunter?

You have to be faking, right?

I mean nobody just loses Neon's new diamond earrings.

Nobody just trips and takes a whole countertop with them. (Marble countertop if he may add)

Nobody just forgets they can use nen?

"What's your ability?"

"Sometimes if I squint real hard, I can see in the dark."

"Your nen ability????"

"Oh! Don't remember!" 😃

Finds out you are in fact not faking

It kinda reminds him of Leorio

But at least Leorio could read and doesn't have the attention span of a goldfish.

Sometimes he swears he can hear your single braincell rattle around in your head when someone's shaking you in their frustration.

It worries him why you were hired to be a bodyguard

Mainly because the Nostrades had been very thorough selecting candidates.

And you were here before his team got selected.

So Kurapika has a hunch.

He'll make Melody ask you questions and check your heartbeat for lies.

And every ridiculous answer you gave was true

Which irritated him a little

He didn't want a braindead idiot to get in the way of his goal

Buuuuut his opinion of you changes for the better after his fight with Uvogin

He came back feeling defeated, even though he won

The blood on his hands was icky and he had gotten no information out of the ordeal.

The only thing he left with was an even worse hatred for the Phantom Troupe.

The very same people who didn't remember they had massacred an entire clan.

He arrived at the hotel when mostly everyone had left.

Everyone except you and Melody.

He eyes were still that scarlet color, not bothering to hide them.

Then he felt arms wrap around him and went to lash out, wanting anything but to be touched right now.

Except his movements stopped completely

And he became completely calm and relaxed.

"Your eyes are really pretty like this, but I don't like you mad. Just calm down a little, okay?" It was you.

And why had you said that to someone you barely knew?

Why were you trying to comfort him?

And why had he let you?

He realized this was your ability: controlling emotions. Or at least altering them.

It was...nice

He hadn't been hugged in a while.

And yours was warm.

The scarlet at last fading away.

"Thank you for that... I appreciate it."

From then on he's seeking you out.

With melody, he has to be cautious with what he says.

He doesn't want to say anything that would frighten her or complicate things for himself.

But if he's talking with you, he could say just about anything and you'd listen.

You would have no clue what he was talking about, but you would be there.

And it was like talking to a wall

Except the wall brought temporary joy into his very dark and devoid world.

A bright light that couldn't be darkened no matter what thanks to your naivety.

And maybe it's endearing when you trip on air in public and say-

"I'm stumbling over my success."

Maybe it makes him smile when you ask about his nen chains and narrow it down to 'a portable prison.'

Maybe he does want you to fill the silence he's used to with ramblings about 'why vases are too fragile these days.'

He may like you, but his motive comes first.

His clan's eyes will always come first

However, he can't stop himself from indulging with what might be a happy future with you.

Especially after seeing you cave someone's skull in with one punch during a task from the Nostrade family.

He's so relieved that yes, you had great physical strength and a useful ability.

It means he'll let you follow him to fulfill his vengeance against the Spiders

He only babies you when it's something serious.

Like if you're about to chop your finger off while cooking.

He's running into the kitchen and taking the knife from you.

"Y/n, what do you have?"

"A knife 😃😃😃"

"NO!"

Or if you're about to get hit by a car because you saw something cool across the street.

He's using his chains to pull you back, and then proceeds to lecture you for the next ten minutes.

But anything else?

No. You can figure it out.

If you're lost, you'll find him eventually.

If you swapped out the pepper and salt, he's laughing, but hopes you learned your lesson.

You brought the wrong item at an auction?

Good luck explaining that to Neon and her father

Doesn't buy you fancy things because he knows you don't care about stuff like that.

Instead, he'll leave you little notes where he knows you'll find them.

He tried to take you to a nice restaurant for dinner claiming it was to 'Keep up the Nostrade's Appearances'.

It was just him being a little embarrassed to admit it was a date.

And you know what happened?

You two got kicked out because you kept breaking the fancy silverware and plates.

But it did make him laugh to see you try to hide the evidence under the table cloth

Calls you: my love, dearest, sunny, little clown, baby (derogatory), and if he's feeling playful-mighty warrior.

He has trouble communicating, so having a stable relationship is difficult.

But he tries, even if he's not there all that much.

Won't feel jealous, but instead a little insecure that you would get bored and leave.

Even if he knows you're a fool with a heart of gold and would never do that

It's just the part of his brain that has to consider every possible outcome.

But if the way your eyes light up every time you see him, even if it's just been five minutes, is anything to go by....

Then he has absolutely nothing to worry about.

Kurapika just hopes his pursuit of his clan's eyes don't scare you away or dim the light you bring with you.

UP NEXT: Monkey D Luffy

MASTERLIST

An: Sorry it took longer than usual, the fucking heat is draining and it makes me lazy 🫠

[g1rlr0b1n]

Look guys!!! It's G1rlR0b1n 💖💖💖 (bet you didn't know this is what my handle meant lol)

Yet another commission by the super talented @tamdrry!!! (this was done a while ago I just hadn't gotten around to posting it)

So, there was actually a fic that was supposed to go along with this but... I never got around to finishing it 😭

If you want to see what I had planned to write you can check it out under the cut. 👇

One of my personal headcanons is that Damian is nonbinary (or trans but for this particular story, just nonbinary for now)

Anyway, he starts to discover this after spending a lazy afternoon with Cass and Steph in Cass's room.

They're cleaning out her closet and think it'd be fun to play dress up with her little brother. He relents because he likes feeling included and he enjoys their company and doesn't 'want to mess this up'. They're several piece swaps and a whole makeover in when the girls finally settle on what they have decide is the perfect 'fit. Damian turns to see himself in the mirror, mini skirt, crop top, fish nets, combat boots, smoky cat-eye, glossy lips, and he just…freezes… doesn't react… until he does. He starts to cry and flees from the room. The girls don't know what to do but they run after him. He nearly knocks Bruce over in the hallway, then the girls come storming after and he stops them.

Bruce: what's going on?

Steph (she looks worried): we were just messing around, we didn't mean to make him cry!

Cass (also upset and crying herself): we didn't mean to hurt him.

Bruce: ok, let me talk to him. Go back to your room, we'll chat in a bit. Try to calm down, ok?

The girls nod reluctantly but turn and go back to Cass's room. Bruce had long suspected that Damian may be having a difficult time with self-discovery from little things he's picked up on and from when he was at that age himself. he had a feeling something like this would be coming sooner than later, after all, emotions and individuality were not traits looked highly upon by the League of Assassins… or (he admits) with the Batman. he knocks on his door and when there is no answer he peeks in. Damian is sitting on the carpet in front of his floor length mirror.

Bruce: hey chum

Damian:

Bruce: can I sit down?

He says nothing again but scootches over slightly

Bruce: you wanna talk about it?

Damian:

Bruce: Cass and Steph think they've upset you.

Damian shakes his head: I'm not mad at them. (He emphasizes the word 'them')

Bruce: are you mad at yourself?

Damian nods but says nothing else. Bruce pulls him into a hug and he allows it, buries his face into him, cries, and Bruce just holds him there. They say nothing else until Damian finally let's go an eternity later. Bruce tells him he won't make him talk about it and he won't make him explain himself to the girls but he is going to tell Cass and Steph that he isn't upset with them unless he would like to do it himself (he'll tell them nothing more than that, he emphasizes). Damian's not ready to face them, he tells his father he can relay the message, and he does, later once Damian has asked to be left alone. The girls are relieved, they don't ask questions, they respect Damian's privacy. It's one of the reasons why Damian loves them.

A week later Bruce takes Damian to go to a fashion show with him, he goes because his father has been nagging him to put more effort into him public persona long before this anyway. There he sees androgynous models wearing mashups of typically male and female clothing and something starts to click. He feels seen for the first time but the feeling is uncomfortable and he begins to sink into himself, Bruce pulls him into his side, and he doesn't pull away.

Another week goes by and Damian comes home to find a large box on his bed, tied up with a large red ribbon. There is a tag that just reads, "fighting evil by moonlight". He opens the box and there is a new Robin uniform inside reminiscent of one of his favorite characters, Sailor Moon. The tears he cries are from happiness this time.

[eeveecraft]

The Fracturing and Decline of the Tulpamancy Community

Why am I back? Well, I've been thinking about this for a while and a friend of mine just discovered the Tulpamancy stuff. If you're reading this, you know who you are. Still not happy that you found out, but it got me thinking about some stuff I want to write down.

So, some of you may know, #RedditTulpas, the official r/Tulpas Discord server shut down like, a few months ago. The Tulpa.info server got shut down back in 2023, and there's also the debacle that happened with Tulpa Chat several years ago. Basically, all of the largest Tulpamancy Discord servers get shut down for whatever reason once they hit a certain point. The main reason why tends to be drama driving the staff to their wits end, which eventually leads to the server being shut down for the well-being of the staff's mental health.

I mean, I guess there's Tulpa Central with its 1,300+ members, but even though Kopase (eugh) isn't the owner anymore, it's still a server that deliberately excludes other forms of Plurality, and I don't think communities like that should be encouraged to exist. Because let's be honest, that's just thinly-veiled ableism and ignores how Tulpamancy techniques can help disordered systems function better. Oh, that and the fact that other plurals can have tulpas, too.

I also want to bring up how r/Tulpas has drastically declined in quality; we are especially cognizant of it because we moderate that subreddit. There's a lot of low-effort, redundant, and sometimes low-key unhinged posts on the Subreddit, and there is very little actual productive discussion. Most posts there nowadays are just questions, many of which have to be removed because they're already questions that are answered in the FAQ or so basic that they should be asked in the pinned post.

With Reddit specifically, I think a factor in this decline is the direction Reddit has been going with trying to become a publicly traded company, especially with their API changes essentially killing third-party apps. That, and Reddit gleefully giving away all of its user posts to OpenAI with no ability to opt out. We ourselves only check Reddit to moderate the subreddit nowadays because of these changes, and we wouldn't be surprised if others followed suit.

However, this doesn't discredit the general trend we've seen with the larger Tulpamancy communities just declining or outright dying.

The Tulpamancy side of Tumblr has been pretty quiet for several years now with the only major Tulpamancy-specific blog besides ourselves really being Sophie's and maybe Caflec's, and we're hardly active in terms of making posts (we just don't have much to talk about anymore).

There was also the Tulpa.info Mastodon instance, Tulpas.social, but that died pretty damn fast. Plural Café closed invites the moment we tried recommending it to others and has been gradually falling apart, too.

My point is: there's hardly any actual large gatherings of Tulpamancy systems anymore. I remember in one of my Tulpamancy Help videos, I explained how the community became fractured, but I think it's gotten even worse. Like, don't get me wrong, I don't think the community should be a monolith; niches exist for a reason. However, there's something just... disheartening about seeing gatherings of 1,000+ Tulpamancy systems just getting dissolved; thousands of people conversing, exchanging ideas, and helping each other just... separated.

You're probably wondering, "Well, if you're complaining about it, you surely have some kind of solution, right?" Well, not really. it seems to be a cycle tied with the general makeup of the community; enough people in the community just seem to be drawn to petty arguments and drama that takes a toll on the people who manage these communities. So for larger gathering to exist, the people need to be palatable. Otherwise, as new communities form and people flock to them, the same people that caused the downfall of the others before will follow suit. And to be frank, I don't quite have a solution in regards to getting people to stop gravitating towards and starting mentally-taxing drama. That's up for the individuals inside the community to figure out, let alone want to change.

So, what's the conclusion? I guess it's just that I believe the community is heading towards some kind of recession, a dark age of some kind. And that makes me sad to extent because the more Tulpamancy spreads, the more its techniques can be used to help people. There's a reason anthropologists and psychologists are studying Tulpamancy, especially with the interest in its possible therapeutic applications. Despite that, I want to be optimistic and hope that eventually, the community finds its stride again instead of fading into further obscurity.

7-15-2024

[spacexseven]

tunaaaaa I've been reading ur Childe Thing sooo much that I've been thinking of I Love Amy aus nonstop. its a problem. in honor of bsd s4 im gonna rapid fire a couple out for the Bsd Boys!

lets talk dazai. I feel like this could go a lot of ways with him. like, if its ada dazai, you probably don't really get the sense that something is kinda off with him until you're a bit too deep to back out. he seemed so sweet when you first met- fuckin weird, but sweet! no harm in trying to help him win over a crush, right? for pm dazai, you obviously know hes fucked in the head the second you meet him, so you agree to help him out of a fear of what he might do to you if you dont rather than a sense of altruism. either way, its kinda hard to notice him getting a little overly-attached to you just cuz of how naturally obnoxious and clingy he is. even if he starts to escalate you might not get it cuz hes pretty fast and loose about LITERALLY kidnapping you and tying you up in his apartment/mafia holding cell right off the bat (gets very pouty about you "ignoring" him). doesnt help that hes so out of touch with his own emotions he probably doesn't even know he has a thing for you for a whiiile. trust me tho, being nice to him and taking care of him when hes sick or injured WILL wear him down. you'll only kind of get it when you try to give him some new pointers on his crush and he seems to just get? annoyed? mutters something about you talking about someone else while you're SUPPOSED to pay attention to HIM. or when he keeps being weirdly affectionate with you in full view of X when hed usually forget you exist as soon as he sees them. or you woke up chained to a chair (again) but this time hes perched in your lap and scolding you about avoiding your "boyfriend" before shoving his lips against yours. couldve been any of these occasions really.

cant BELIEVE I didn't think of gogol the first time I talked about this this is almost EXACTLY what yes doing to sigma rn. when this fuckin 6'2 clown terrorist traps you against a wall and starts questioning about why you were talking to "his darling", you are 10000% sure you're gonna die. almost gives you whiplash how fast his tone changes once you convince him you have NO interest. all smiles all of the sudden, picks u up under the armpits like a cat to right ur posture and pats you on the head, declaring that you will be his magicians assistant for a while! you do not have a say in this, if you'd like to keep your skin. while you feel bad about aiding and abetting this stalking case, you get the sense that hes. not ever gonna actually make a move. kinda just Wants To Stalk. goes on about how he cant let himself be tied down like that (whatever that means). he does talk about just murdering his darling a lot but you've managed to convince him that thats unnecessary baggage connecting them to him so hopefully that keeps him sated until his goldfish-esque attention span finally moves him onto a new target. and it does! the problem is that its you. I think that once he realizes he likes you, he's just gonna vanish. poof gone. hes had a lot of fleeting obsessions with ill-fated darlings before, but youre something new. hes never actually gotten to know someone before! ugh. hes caged by his feelings for you, but the despair hed feel from killing you would be a cage all its own! frustrating!!!!! maybe if he just leaves and never thinks about you ever again this'll just go away like all of his other crushes. doesnt work. expect him back in a month, snuggling into your neck and babbling inane about having missed you. he tied you up again so youre just gonna have to let him do that. its fine youre used to this with him.

really wanted to do this with chuuya and fyodor too but im scared of them being OOC help me.

- 🩹

omg so this turned out to be Very Long :O quick context for any1 who is unfamiliar w i love amy—it's a webtoon (highly recommend btw) where the yandere character starts to fall for her 'target/rival' instead of her initial love interest. for more info + the childe version, check out this post.

cw: yandere characters (dazai, fyodor, nikolai), stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, obsessive behavior, threats of violence to reader. (this whole post came off a little silly instead of serious But mind the cws anyway!)

this is best read with a male reader (to keep it consistent w i love amy) but there's no pronouns used or descriptions for reader, so do as you like. also, reader makes morally questionable decisions :>

(pm) dazai is to be avoided at all costs. that was the rule you put down for yourself after witnessing one of his very public threats to some poor pedestrian who had bumped into him. the dramatic coat, the blank expression, the natural ease with which he handled the weapon in his hand—everything about him was just...alarming.

however, despite all your efforts, he's obstructed your path home with a deadly glare and a hand in his pocket.

according to dazai, he did not appreciate your recent conversation with X, (as he claimed, they were too popular to spare most people more than a few friendly greetings—so why were you having a full-fledged conversation with them?) who were you, even, to get in his way? you sputter out some excuse, some explanation as to why he misunderstood the situation and it was all just work-related, and fortunately, he seems convinced, at least enough to relax his hold on you and shift the blaring malice in his stance to something less frightening.

obviously, you couldn't refuse when he offers you what he calls a mutually beneficial proposition. you help him get closer to X, and he won't kill you! win-win, don't you think?

the thing about dazai, you soon learn, is that despite the murderous energy he gives off, he's painfully annoying, more so than frightening. it almost feels like you're dealing with an obnoxious child, with how he's constantly whining and tugging at your sleeve and complaining about how useless you're being.

and it also makes you wonder if he's ever really had a friend, because he's got some strange expectations for you. he's all too possessive, too paranoid, and expects you to be perfectly fine with it. you consider telling him that he's not supposed to hold you hostage every time he thinks you're spending "too much time with someone else", but after the 4th attempt, you've understood that there was no getting to him. at least he stopped with the threats to your other friends (well, he promised you that he'd stop), and that seemed like the only thing he was willing to compromise on. he doesn't ease up on the breaking-into-your-room-to-visit-you stunt, either, especially when you're "ignoring him". despite all that, maybe out of some form of pity, you still help him out. you drop off food when he's sick and try to explain that imprisonment is not the key to a healthy relationship. you hang out with him even if you're terrified of all the mafioso you come across when you visit the hq with him, and after all of it, you're mostly convinced that he wasn't going to kill you anytime soon. in fact, the two of you seemed to be building an unusual friendship.

but when he comes to visit you one day when you're sick and actually knocks on the door and texts you beforehand, you tell him that this would be the best way to approach X if he ever hears that they're sick. though you're expecting some excitement, or some self-satisfaction for improving a little, instead of looking excited, dazai looks frustrated. for the first time, he looks genuinely...upset. and when he asks you why you can't appreciate that he was looking out for you and not X, you're left at a loss for words. you're not sure if this was a sign that he was starting to learn not to cross your boundaries or a warning that he was beginning to like you a little too much

and things only get stranger. he becomes more observant, asks you more questions about yourself rather than X, and even starts holding your hand in full view of X. when you mention that X was really looking forward to a new movie coming out and that he should try to ask them out, he gets upset by your suggestion, grumbling about you paying more attention to X and only caring about them instead of asking him if he wants to see the movie with them. so, unsure of how to respond, you echo his question. he beams at you and happily declares that he only wants to watch the movie with you.

somewhere along the line, it happened that dazai himself started to realize just how much he liked you, and he spirals out of control. the already overwhelming physical contact turns more intimate, with dazai holding your hand at every possible moment, pressing himself as close to you as humanely possible without squeezing the air out of you, and sitting on your lap whenever the opportunity presents itself. he stops responding to anything that isn't an endearing pet name and introduces himself as your boyfriend. X seems to be eradicated from his mind, as well as anyone that wasn't you, though it feels as though you're the only one that has a problem with this change. dazai takes to it naturally, seamlessly inserting himself into your life.

"what's wrong?" dazai's sprawled across your lap with the biggest grin on his face, the remote in your hand long ripped away by him, "come give your boyfriend a kiss~"

you've...heard of fyodor. it was more overhearing whispers shared between people, but the mention of his name seemed to intrigue everyone who heard it. you've heard that he was a mysterious man who walked into the city one day and never left, and you've heard that he was the owner of an expensive casino. you've even heard that he had a tendency to stand on top of rooftops at night, but you've heard tons of variations and rumors. one statement, however, rang true in everyone's ears.

fyodor dostoevsky was taken with X.

that was putting it lightly—obsession was exactly what it was. though X was clearly unaware of what was being said, because, as they assured you one day while you walked out with them, fyodor was just a friend! and he was a very interesting guy, with some strong beliefs. he wasn't some criminal mastermind! all he did was keep to himself. and that, as they confidently declared, wasn't a crime.

but you had reason to not believe X, after all, it wasn't them at the receiving end of a laser focused gaze and a creepy smile. (it scared you so much that you ran home and ordered a burglar-proof lock for your door the same night) and it also wasn't them who sat down across from you while you were having your breakfast in the café nearby. anyone would have been better than who it was.

"hello," fyodor waves a fork at you, his fingers positioned gracefully on the silver cutlery (and of course, you think bitterly, he was evil and beautiful. just your luck), "i hope you can spare me a few minutes."

he wasn't asking, but you melted at his soft tone. for all people loved to talk about him, why hadn't they mentioned how hard it was to take your eyes off him? awkwardly, you take another bite of your food, nodding at him.

he asks you about X, though it's more of an interrogation disguised as casual conversation. he easily waves around his fork, smiles at you with an unnerving expression, and stares at you a little too long. by the end of it, your food is finished and his fork is placed neatly back onto the table and you've sustained no injuries. better yet, he finally seems to have (reluctantly) removed your name from his hit list.

what you weren't expecting was for him to start seeking you out. you get strange looks when fyodor waits outside your workplace with an umbrella—your umbrella—leaving you with no choice but to walk with him unless you wanted to get home soaked. he lists off X's habit and asks you to add on to his list, ignoring your reply of "that's just creepy". he tells you that he wants to respect X's privacy by not using cameras to spy on them so will you answer him or should he use the cameras? and what else could you do then?

at the very least, he didn't seem serious about attempting to kidnap or imprison X. he seemed fascinated by them, if anything. like he was...studying them. being with him wasn't as bad as you'd though, no matter how much you hated to admit it, despite the foundation of this friendship was built on how amusing he found X. if he was in a particularly good mood, he'd even offer to help you out with your struggles in the pursuit of love. his ideas, however, were all sure to land you behind bars with a retraining order to boot. when you voiced your opinion to him, he only smiled and told you that he knew a thing or two about breaking out of a prison cell, much like he was recalling upon a fond memory.

the only good thing about this strange arrangement was that fyodor was really nice to look at. there was something mesmerizing about his every action, even the slight quirk of his lips or the way his hair fell on his forehead. the ease with which he slipped on his hat (which, by the way, what was with all his not-weather-appropriate clothing? was he not sweating?), and the commanding air around him. so while he spoke seriously about X and his distaste for most of the human population, you tuned him out and focused on admiring his pretty eyes and how his lips wrapped around his fork and—ugh, you were starting to sound as creepy as him. but honestly, you had a feeling he already knew that you found him attractive. fyodor was far too good at reading people, far too perceptive to let something as obvious as your attraction to him slip.

your mistake was foolishly believing that you'd be safe as long as you didn't act on those feelings.

it felt strange, however, when he started reaching your usual table first, having already asked for your go-to meal and watching with thinly veiled delight as you stared down at the hot plate. and it's your coworkers now that get stared at, your friends who get the silent threat of a fork pressed against smooth skin, and you that everyone whispers that fyodor dostoevsky is taken with.

the meaning behind his increasingly strange behaviour doesn't really hit you, not until you've bumped into X again, who you haven't seen around in a while.

"i see that you and fyodor are becoming good friends now," they grin, "i'm almost jealous of how quickly you warmed up to him."

long fingers reach to caress your cheek before a perfectly poised hand places itself on your shoulder. fyodor's unmistakable voice replies in your stead.

"we're friends? is that what you've heard?" fyodor dips his head down to lock eyes with yours, "why don't you correct them about that, darling?"

you should have trusted sigma when he told you that nikolai gogol was bad news. as he clarified, so bad that, coincidentally, the ministry of justice hq was moved away at least by two states when nikolai came to visit.

but how were you to know that he was in love with one of your acquaintances? and how were you to know that his idea of love was this frightening? just when you were making your way back after a lukewarm conversation about work with X, you were slammed up against the wall by a person with a top hat and a coat and an honestly terrifying expression. then nikolai, as he later introduced himself, started grilling you with questions, ruthlessly asking about why you were with X and why did they smile at you and where does your family live, after which he happily told you about his many previous experiences with torture and how he would love to show you.

you're not sure what convinced him to let you go, whether it was your trembling legs or your teary promises that you had no interest in X in that way, but here you were now—alive, terrified, and offered the position of 'magician's assistant' (though the magician himself refused to tell you why the position was open for so long) and all it took to land the increasingly strange job was to talk to X and listen to nikolai threaten to torture you in graphic detail.

(among all the crazy people you had seen around here—that so-called 'world's best detective' who snatched your bag of candy right from your hands, that other person who started doing push-ups in the middle of the road, and someone giggling holding a bag of lemons by the port—you thought that nikolai definitely fit right in. not that you were going to tell him that)

while the position wasn't exactly what you wanted, nor were you too keen on spending more time around nikolai, something about the glint in his uncovered eye and the hand gripping your shoulder told you that you really wouldn't want to reject his offer. contrary to what you may have assumed, assisting nikolai only meant becoming a partner to his criminal activity, which revolved around stalking X, talking to them to find out all the information nikolai can't get by stalking them, and stalking them even more to find out any more details that neither of you could get. (you've considered helping out as much as you can, leaving hints in the form of obscure drawings of nikolai and danger symbols, but later, when you catch sight of X waving to him, you realize the message did not come across the way you intended it to)

fortunately for them, (and for you. at least now, you won't be behind bars for assisting in abduction) nikolai seems to have no interest whatsoever in pursuing them any further. sure, he keeps books filled with information about X, and buys their favorite drink alongside his order, but he doesn't seem to want to do anything more.

while you could care less about why he does whatever he's doing, already chalking it all up to the fact that he was off his rockers, nikolai decides to enlighten you all the same. when he excitedly rambles on and on about freedom and feelings and why X must now die, you pretend to listen, never actually telling him that nothing he said made any sense to you. still, after insisting that he won't be very free behind bars either and that if he really didn't want to be tied down by his feelings, he should actually distance himself from them instead, it appeared that you finally got him to understand, and he hesitantly agreed to listen.

for the most part, everything is great after that. your life returns to normal, with no top hat wearing, cane wielding magician in the vicinity, and no more having to invade someone's privacy. and it was great! really! even if it was a little bit boring without nikolai's spontaneous plans (maybe that time in the amusement park was pretty fun, even if the only reason you had to go was because X was going there with someone else, much to nikolai's horror). there was something both unsettling and addictive about the crazy adventures nikolai swept you on, though it was for the best that he disappeared.

but then nikolai came back…acting a little odd.

his clinginess and a sudden desire for physical affection set off alarms in your head, though he acted like this was perfectly normal. at first, you told yourself that this must be some new jealousy plot—maybe he got this idea from a tv show he watched over his 'break', but he hadn't asked you if you wanted to be part of this ploy (not that he ever did, really).

and your suspicions only grew when he refused to let up on the act, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. his trips with you became increasingly frightening, and his grip on you increasingly tighter. he takes his new position by your side, not at all focused on X anymore, and instead observes you with the same look that was fixated on X not too long ago.

it only hits you that you've become his new target when you find yourself tied up to a chair, with him seated right in front of you with his face up to yours. the exact scenario you convinced him not to put X through.

"your advice sucks, by the way," he pouts, "i tried staying away but i couldn't stop thinking of you! don't be too upset, alright? we can have even more fun now that we're together!"

[xf-cases-solved]

i made more x-files words with my brain, wrote them down, and then put them on the internet for you to read and process into meaning with your own brain, if you're so inclined. cancer arc angst for those who are always sluts for s4 like me

click on the following link to consume my words: She Still Has Her Hair

[cw: suicidal ideation and descriptions of illness/hospitals/ivs/pain medication]

here's a snippet:

She hasn't lost her hair, and that's so much worse.

If she had lost her hair, maybe he would have noticed how bad things have gotten before now. 

Because that's what you think of when you think of cancer patients, right? You picture bald heads and missing brows above sunken, darkly circled eyes. You picture tears in the bathroom as the buzz of a razor shears away the remaining tufts among the patchy surface of a scalp. You picture each fallen strand as another inch marched toward a headstone. When you see a cancer patient with no hair, you know that they are Sick with a capital S. When a cancer patient with no hair shows symptoms of their illness, it doesn't come as a surprise.

However, Scully hasn't lost her hair, and so when she calls him at eleven fifteen on a Sunday night—voice a cracked windshield about to shatter into a million pieces, and a sob lodged in her throat like a chicken bone she can't cough up—he's taken by surprise.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

She still has her hair.

But "Mulder, it's me" has never sounded so frail before, and it terrifies him almost more than the voicemail she left on his answering machine two, nearly three years ago; the one that ended with the sounds of a physical fight filled with cries for help before being abruptly cut off, leaving nothing but horrible questions and no answers.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He'd been dozing on the couch with the lights of a muted infomercial dancing over his face, but at the sound of her voice he is instantly upright and alert. When she doesn't answer right away, he presses, more firmly, "Scully? What's wrong? "

"I was prescribed a new medication at my appointment Friday afternoon, and I can't..." Through the receiver he hears her take a steadying breath. "Supposedly this medication is meant to have a less nauseating effect on patients, but in roughly seven percent of cases, it has actually been shown to increase nausea in certain individuals, leading to severe emesis which eventually culminates in dehydration, presenting with symptoms such as dry mouth, lightheadedness, infrequent or oddly colored urine, confu—"

"And are you one of these patients in the seven percent?" Mulder asks, interrupting her clinical recitation that he suspects is her way of keeping herself detached from her own experience. Scully's silence is answer enough. "When was the last time you were able to keep something down?"

"I don't know," she says quietly.

"More than twelve hours?"

"Yes."

"More than twenty-four?" Nothing. "More than thirty-six?" She's silent. "Scully, you haven't been able to keep down food or water for over thirty-six hours?"

"It started early yesterday morning. Before sunrise, I think."

"Is it just vomiting? Is there anything else going on?"

"I..." She trails off, and Mulder suspects her innate desire to never show a shred of weakness to anyone (but especially him, for some godforsaken reason) is currently at war with the part of her that's spent the better part of two days all alone on the bathroom floor. 

"Tell me, Scully. Don't try to lie or sugarcoat it, just be honest."

"The medication, in conjunction with the physical act of vomiting, has led to a fairly severe case of myalgia—muscle pain—that began and is most prominent in the neck and upper back, but which has since spread to... to... oh God, Mulder"—the crack in her voice is heartbreaking—"it hurts everywhere. Everywhere . I'm in so much pain and I haven't taken a piss in over a day and every time I throw up my head pounds so hard my vision goes white. That's not hyperbole, Mulder, these headaches are quite literally blinding, and what if it's not the pain causing it? What if there's new tumor growth affecting my optic nerves, and this is just foreshadowing for what's yet to come? I don't want to go blind, Mulder, what am I going to do? I can't work if I'm blind. I can't do anything. I don't like the dark, and everything in my body hurts, and I just want it all to stop. Please help. Please help make it stop, Mulder, I hurt so bad." 

By the end of her venting, the sob that had been stuck in her throat has been set loose, and she's crying freely now, pouring out her heart in a way that would probably sound like full-blown bawling if she were strong enough. As it is, her weeping comes out in a strained wheeze, like the squeaky whistle of air sneaking through a small crack in the window when the car is speeding down a highway. 

"Please," she begs again, and the way she speaks reminds him of what it was like to wake up with a stomachache in the middle of the night as a kid and cry out for his mother. It reminds him how desperately afraid and alone he'd feel until his mother was finally roused by his calls, and padded into his room with sleepy eyes and a soft voice so as to not wake up his sister in the room next door.

Maybe, he thinks, it doesn't matter how old you are—that no matter what, being sick by yourself will always be your loneliest moment.

"I'm grabbing my keys right now, Scully, I'm on my way out the door." He jingles the ring of keys in his hand by the receiver of the phone so that she can hear their little chime and hopefully be comforted by it. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," she whispers, no longer crying, but Mulder suspects it has more to do with a lack of physical strength than anything else.

"I'm gonna have to take you to the hospital," he warns. He's sure she expects as much, but it would be easier to get the fight out of the way now if she's going to be resistant.

It's a testament to how utter dogshit she must feel when she says nothing more than another melancholic, "Okay." Somehow, her agreeing to seek help scares him more than if she were refusing. 

"Hang tight, Scully," he tells her gently. "I'm coming."

[useless-catalanfacts]

Bon dia. I am writing in English to make sure I get the feeling just right. Maybe this is not the right forum, but please know I'm asking this with nothing but respect and love. So, a few years ago I basically lost everything, and I ended up in the hospital as a result of a suicide attempt. For over a year I was convinced that I was never going to be able to leave my bedroom again, but after a lot of therapy and a small return to normality my friend managed to talk me into a super guiri coded trip to Barcelona. It was my first time being abroad since childhood (I'm Scandinavian). I don't drink alcohol nor do I like crowded places or heat, so while the group I travelled with did classic tourist shit I took some random train out to Terrassa, Cerdanyola, Sabadell and basically just found shadow or museums or some place to read. I had learned some basic Catalan before going, and I noticed that people really enjoyed that. Just by ordering tea I felt like I made friends, and locals offered to show me around or give me special tours of the museums etc. I've never felt more home, and I think I decided already there and then that this is where I wanted to be until forever. I live outside of Girona now, I'm decent in Catalan and I just started my PhD focusing on the political history of Catalonia. I'm a politically active leftist, and have really found a community here. Now, to my question: I want to get a tattoo, haha. I want to get something to honor my new home and celebrate this journey, plus also express some political alignment. When I ask my catalan friends they just laugh and ask why I would want to have a symbol of their "shitty" (said lovingly) country on my body. Their reactions make me worry it might seem like fetishism or appropriating, even if they mainly seem to find it funny. I would love to get a tattoo of the flag (maybe super simple, as in four lines and a star. Or even four lines that simply have the cutout of a triangle to show its the Estelada) but I worry I might be sending signals I don't fully understand. I was considering Montserrat or some other more... physical symbol. But a lot of them carry religious symbolism and that's not really what I'm getting at. I don't know. Maybe the very idea is disrespectful. I simply just need input from someone that's a) not my friend that will just laugh and b) knowledgeable in Catalan culture and codes. So if you have a take, I would be so happy to hear it. Thank you so much for your time.

Wow, thank you so much for all your respect, and I am very happy that you found a place to feel at home here ❤️

It would not be disrespectful at all nor signaling that you don't understand; all the opposite, it's a deep show of appreciation. I think your friends find it funny because it's unusual and, as you said, because they're your friends and friends always joke around with each other.

I honestly can't imagine anyone feeling like a tattoo like the ones you mentioned are disrespectful, fetishism nor appropriating. First of all because you have full knowledge of what you're deciding to tattoo and you are doing it from a point of appreciation, celebration, and also connection with an important part of your life. The only case I feel it's laughable is when people don't know what they're getting (for example, a friend showed me a TikTok where a foreign girl had gotten the tattoo "Besòs Mar" after the metro station in Barcelona for said neighbourhood at the end of the Besòs river —a neighborhood that doesn't have the best reputation, to put it lightly— and was showing it off pronouncing it badly and claiming it means "sea kisses" by her Google-Translate-level Spanish lmao. That's just stupid and will get her made fun of, but it's in every way all the opposite of what you're talking about).

All the options you mentioned seem completely okay to me. As always, everyone (especially Catalan people in this case) is welcome to add their opinion in the comments, but as I said I seriously can't imagine anyone taking an issue with it. I think people's reaction will be more of a mix of "wow!" and "aww ❤️".

I've been thinking of more physical symbols, I could think of a sickle, in reference to the reapers/els segadors, who were the poorest agricultural workers and marched to Barcelona in 1640 to kill the viceroy and to revolt against the monarchy that was restricting Catalonia's historical rights in favour of the king in Castilla. As you'll know, the reapers have become a symbol of Catalonia since then, and the folk song created during that war ended up becoming Catalonia's national anthem.

Painting Corpus de Sang, by Antoni Estruch i Bros (1907) which represents the Reapers' uprising in the Catalan Revolt (Guerra dels Segadors).

You could also do the shape of another mountain (Montserrat was a good shout but I understand the point about religious elements), you could do the Pedraforca or the Canigó, though the Canigó's shape isn't as recognizable and even less outside of Northern Catalonia. Maybe there's some place that you remember from your first trip or from your time here that you've enjoyed, or that you've seen often, a building or something else that you can do its silhouette.

I don't know, I'm saying ideas but the ones you mentioned in your ask were already good 😊

[rae-and-mezo]

Can you do when yn treats the house elves like their her children and the boys (ominis,sebastian, gareth,and amit) or the girls (poppy,natt,imelda, and Anne) get jealous or you can put whatever reaction!😊 please do this I'm begging 😭

A/n: I love this!! Some of them are shorter because I didn't know how to expand on their general opinion. I tried so hard to not repeat myself!

Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakkar, Poppy Sweeting, Natty Onai, Imelda Reyes, Anne Sallow

Sebastian:

Honestly, he's kind of annoyed.

Like the treatment of Elves is infuriating, sure, and he agrees with being kind obviously. But do you really have to cancel a date because Ticky the Elf wants to perform a dance for you?

And why do THEY get forehead kisses every day and he only gets them when he's sitting down? Maybe it's because he's just tall but HEY.

At first the elves are scared of him, and he hates it. He goes out of his way to show he means no harm but didn't intend to get roped into the mess.

Why do they want him to come see the room MC had them decorate in the room of requirement?

Why the hell is one asking him what MC prefers: Vanilla or Chocolate? They want to make her a cake? Okay...but he expects a piece.

Slowly he comes to love them as MC does, like a dad with a kitten.

Ominis:

My boy is...confused? But delighted.

The Gaunts had a house elf! Her name was Cinder, and she was more like a mother than Mrs. Gaunt. He always treated her with utmost respect and the way his parents treated her made him sick to his stomach.

His whole Hogwarts career he has tried to be very polite to the elves, letting them know someone cares.

And when you show him your army of elf friends, he is delighted!!

Asks them all their names and some more general questions.

One of them learned a new song or something of the like? He is listening with a patient smile on his face even though it is the worst thing he has ever heard.

They don't really understand his blindness actually. They're supporting but ask him tons of questions. I think Ominis would really like educating them about how he experiences the world as long as they aren't being patronizing.

He adores listening to you interact with the elves!!

He asks them so much advice and input on how to show Cinder he appreciates her. Like...does he give her a gift? Will this upset her? Is this too much?

Also, he remembers like everything. Tries too at least. You come into the common room late, telling him about how you were helping an Elf read a muggle book? He asks you if you've gotten to his favorite part. That particular elf tends to like the romance novels, and chapter nine is when the hero gets the girl.

In short, he loves the elves almost as much as you do!

Garreth:

He's so dumb. I love him.

Coming from a poorer family, Garreth had never seen a house elf until Hogwarts. They were strange creatures.

And then you have a whole crew?? Okay, but he wasn't expecting it.

He...he has trouble seeing them as sentient beings. I hate to say it, but he does! Of course, he respects all they do for the castle, but at first, he doesn't understand why you like them so much. He treats them not unlike a pet.

You tell them to be polite and introduce themselves, and he is so weirded out by each one introducing themselves and shaking his hand.

They pick up on his hesitation and come to you with their worries and after a lecture from you, Garreth is ready to try again. Reluctantly, but he is.

Is it possible to embarrass yourself in front of a house elf? If it is, Garreth does it. He's so scared of saying or doing something wrong that he ends up embarrassing the hell out of himself.

He grows to see them as they are: intelligent and sentient creatures that have a lot to offer. After a while he is comfortable enough to give them high fives in the hallway, or gift them things (mostly prank items, and then he has to teach them it is meant to be funny and not an attack-)

Amit:

He honestly has learned not to think twice about anything when it comes to you.

So, when you ask him to meet you in the room of requirement and you're surrounded by elves? A little strange, but it doesn't deter him from asking if you got all the notes down for DADA.

The elves scatter when he speaks, running to look like they are working. It surprises him, and even more so when you hush him as you coax them all out.

They do NOT like him at first because he comes at inconvenient times and how are they supposed to prepare you hot chocolate before bed when you're off looking at star charts??

And meanwhile poor Amit is working hard to get their seal of approval because anything you like he does too. It's very important to him!

Well one day they mention that they like the Gramaphone and the pretty music but the Gramaphone isn't working as of late. It gives you an idea, and now Amit is standing in front of a mini crowd playing his little violin heart out.

The elves kinda overwhelm him with how many there are and how needy they are to you, but it amazes him how you are so patient with them.

If there is a house elf language, he is learning it. Both to impress you and try to win over your little army.

Basically, he is slightly intimidated by the elves, but he loves you so he tries his best to get along with them. He definitely is no longer taking the food at dinner for granted, that's for sure.

Poppy:

She's so sweet.

At first, worries that the elves might have malicious intent because of how often they were pulling you away. But quickly she realized it wasn't the case.

The elves already adore her as she has always been incredibly sweet to them. Plus, in third year she saved a baby house elf which sparked her interest in them as more than servants.

She's more like their friend than parent, though, she thinks it's incredibly sweet how loving you are towards them.

Gets them ALL christmas presents. every single one. Doesn't tell you about it and holds you when you're overwhelmed by the kindness!

They will all follow her around, and she responds to every one of their jokes and makes sure she never leaves them out of conversation.

Makes funny faces at them from across the hall just like she would any other friend and it makes them feel welcomed.

After late nights in the vivarium, Poppy is dragging you to the kitchens. Even though you don't have to be dragged there. You two sit on the counter and recount your adventures to the elves while they busy themselves making you a snack. If there are dishes to be done she offers to help even if they decline.

Natty:

Always up for some adventure! Finds the elves fascinating honestly.

"Theoretically, if a master gives you a sock to wash, are you free? Can you choose your own clothes? Wait, if you can, are you allowed to shop for them? That would be so-" "Natty..." "Right, sorry."

She treats them like she would treat anybody else tbh. In her home country, she never had house elves and the concept of having someone thanklessly serving you makes her sick. So, she does her best to show her appreciation.

However, the elves will NOT take time she wants to spend with you away. They want to talk to you? Fine, but Natty is there too.

Tells you later how cute you are when you're interacting with something you love.

She gets the elves to help make you a GIANT Christmas present.

She and the elves see each other as equals and are friends!

Imelda:

Another jealous one. Omg.

Sure, elves are mistreated. It's wrong. But maybe they deserve to be kicked around a little when they KEEP YOU FROM QUIDDITCH PRACTICE!

Would never harm the elves or speak harm about them, but they have come to recognize her glare meaning "Hey, it's MY turn with my partner."

One elf in particular is pretty snippy and Imelda gets into fights with him almost every time they see each other.

Oh, the elves know to keep your broom in pristine condition. It seems to make you happy that it never needs work, and they have an agreement with Imelda. A polished, clean, and ready broom for your nightly rides means another hour where she doesn't come in and bother them.

She is NOT above coming into the kitchens just to annoy the house elves. They unfortunately know this.

Imelda would never ever see the house elves as anything less than what they are, but she doesn't hesitate to use her advantages.

She taught a group of the younger elves to swear. You still haven't quite forgiven her for it.

Anne:

I love Anne sm :)

Your relationship with the elves...doesn't surprise her in the slightest.

She doesn't understand, as Elves aren't anything special in her eyes. They're sentient creatures that have feelings and thoughts, just like humans do. Why would she treat them differently than anyone else?

The elves are very sweet, but c'mon. She was going to teach you to garden Hemlock without poisoning yourself!

Honestly, she doesn't mind that you baby them, but she definitely has sat you down and explained they don't need babied.

Admires you and how you treat them! Just doesn't understand it, that's all.

Admires you and how you treat them! Just doesn't understand it, that's all.