#except it’s more of a pain response because it *is* probably giving him a new human body idk

[ponds-of-ink]

I’m trying to sleep, but mmmm the FNAF Animatic potential in “If You Want Perfection” tho.

That song is 100% “William Afton getting duped big time (for once)” energy— Especially in one section.

[thistle-wrote]

Husbands

cw: established poly relationship, anal, vaginal sex. Authors note: for the first time in my life, I get to give one of those ridiculous notes to preface my fic. as I was writing this my house was swarmed with BEES so I'm sorry if it's bad lmfao. John Price X Simon Ghost Riley X Reader.

“John?” John glanced over at you, his focus mostly on the newspaper in his hand.

“Yes, princess?” 

“Love, why is Simon in the guest bed?” You question him, you weren’t upset by any means, truth be told you love it when Simon comes over, even more when he stays for a while it’s just when John crawled into your bed last night he hadn’t mentioned Simon was with him.

“Probably because he’s tired.” John said not looking up from the paper, it was the kind of plain, dry statement you usually got from your otherwise adoring husband. You met his gaze with a rather unamused expression, a silent demand for an actual answer.

“Needed some love from baby girl, that's all, we had a rough go round this time.” He states, leaning back farther into his recliner. You watch him as he gives a slight wince at the pain in his side. You hate that. John was clearly feeling as though that statement was enough of an explanation, and for the most part, it was.

You understood little of your husband’s job beyond the simple and watered down explanations he gives when he comes back from missions, still, you understood enough to know they needed extra love and care for a while afterwards, Simon is no different except for the fact he’s easier to deal with.

You make your way down the hallway, feeling the soft new carpet that you begged John for beneath your feet, muffling your steps. You open the door to the guest bedroom to find Simon sprawled out on the small bed.

“Si?”  You cautiously speak, you know for a fact he is not sleeping, the man rarely sleeps as is but definitely not in a bed two sizes too small and especially not after going through God knows what.

“Honey.” You probe again, walking now fully into the room and sitting down on the white crinkly duvet next to where he’s lying. His eyes are open but still, you get no response, you look him over noticing the new cut on his cheek, the facial hair he hasn’t bothered to shave yet, the bags under his eyes, the way his blonde hair sticks up in every direction from tossing and turning all night.

You never have loved the way he looks after a mission, always worse off than John, you know that John just hides it better but you worry for them both.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby boy.” You mutter trying not to let the worry in your face show while brushing your fingers along the curve of his cheek, feeling the rough stubble that he will no doubt shave within a few days. He looks up at you, for a brief moment you can see the relaxed expression, like for a second he forgot about everything, everything but you. 

“I’m hungry.” A soft smile finds its way to your face. You lean down to place a soft kiss to his chapped lips.

“I’ll make you something.” 

As you cook you think of Simon, of John, you think of how lucky you are to not only have an amazing husband but to have the man in your guest bedroom. John doesn’t say it enough and Simon won’t ever admit it but the three of you have found a rhythm, this is Simon’s home as much as it was yours and John’s. It’s better when he’s home.

“Cookin’?” John asks after a few minutes, walking halfway into the kitchen and leaning onto the door frame.

“Yes.” You respond softly looking up with a smile, where John and Simon differ is mostly in the way that they treat you, neither one bad or wrong but different. John saw you, his little wife, as some sort of angel; he’s told you as much. He never asks or demands anything of you. You don’t work; you only cook or clean out of your own volition. To him, you’re more of a precious artifact that can’t be tampered with.

Simon is different, he’s a little more closed off, so you need a more aggressive approach, he’s learned over the years that your demands for him to tell exactly what he wants will be met with not hostility, but a soft hand and a loving voice, doing for him exactly what he needs. You’re sure that John wanted breakfast just as much as Simon did, but John would never ask for it.

As you cook, John remains in the kitchen, not speaking, but there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, it’s comfortable, loving, and warm despite John’s current condition he wants to be in your presence.

After a long stretch of comfortable silence, you speak again. “Simon looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.” You mutter. You know that despite him not always behaving like he does, John cares as much for Simon as you do. Simon and John have a relationship that is difficult to explain, not only in how John allows him into both your home and marital bed. But also, how John relies on Simon to take care of you when he can’t, to meet you at the petrol station to fill your tank when he’s closer, to call and check on you when his phone dies. John expects Simon to have the same kind of care for you as he does.

“He hasn’t.” John’s simple statement makes you stand on edge a little, you love Simon, John knows that. You know when they are gone doing things that they won’t explain to you, Simon has John to look out for him, but they are men. A pat on the back from John does not have the same effect that a tender embrace or a home cooked meal does.

Once the simple meal of toast, eggs, and sausage was cooked, you made John a plate, sitting in front of him with a small clink of ceramic against the granite island. He smiled, a wordless “thank you.“ as you made Simon a plate carrying it with you to the guest bedroom.

You didn’t bother with a knock when you entered the bedroom. You set the plate on the nightstand, then sat in the same spot you had previously.

“Sit up, love.” It’s a demand, a loving demand, but a demand, nonetheless. He does as requested.  You never wish for Simon to be wearing a shirt, but at this moment, seeing the bruise along his torso and the bandage on his arm, makes you almost wish he were wearing one. Your incessant need to mother your men at war with your desire to focus only on what you could control; you could control breakfast.

“Here.” You hum, placing the plate on his lap. His tired eyes find yours. As Simon eats, you don’t move, you just chatter, talking to him, as though he were responding you watch his silent nods as he shovels food into his mouth as if he would never get to eat again.  As Simon finished his plate you began to pick it up, taking it to clean when you felt a big rough hand wrap around your wrist.

“Don’t go.” His deep voice echoed through the room, not loud, or demanding but a clear plea. You nodded, understanding what he needed in that moment was not breakfast in bed or space but rather just your presence. 

You move over the bed, making a mental note to buy him a bigger bed for the guest bedroom since he’s the only one who stays in it. You cautiously curl up into his side, pushing your legs beneath the covers to intertwine them with his own. Simon wrapped his arms around you and sighed deeply.

It was a satisfied sigh. You let the large man manhandle you, allowing him to pull you where he sees fit with your head now resting against the inside of his shoulder and your fingers grazing along his tummy. He speaks finally for the first time without you prompting him to do so. “Missed you.” It’s quiet like a confession he doesn’t feel he’s allowed to make.

“I missed you too, baby.”  You don’t hold the same reservation about voicing your adoration for the man curled up next to you. A soft kiss grazed your lips as he pulled you further into his chest.

“Love you.” he murmured against your lips, your want to say it back was stopped by his mouth, continuing to move against yours, holding your arm, as if he feared you trying to pull away. Things with Simon have always been silent, actions rather than words. While he is silent, you are fully aware he is asking for something in the way his hands wandered from your arm to the small of your back, to your ass. 

A desperation to be close, close where your bodies can meld together. When his lips moved from yours to your neck you let out an involuntary little whine. His soft, loving kisses, turned into something more, an outlet.

“Si.” You whine out. He, despite being tired and drained from the past month, let out a laugh and an almost condescending chuckle, sure the sweet boy had been waiting for soft kisses and breakfast in bed, getting to cuddle with the captain’s missus but he was hungry and not for food.

You let out a little gasp when his hand slipped down the front of your leggings. “Si.” You repeated it again this time, breathless, longing.  He let out a groan when his fingers swept between your folds.

“There’s my girl.”  He said, his fingers gliding along your slick sex. You had no words left, no protests either. Already the world around you grew hazy, and before you knew what happened, your T-shirt and leggings were in a heap on the floor.

Simon took his time watching, touching, kissing. He drew orgasm after orgasm from your body with just the deep plunge of his fingers.

“Well, that’s a pretty sight.”  A deep voice hummed from the doorway. Normally, you would acknowledge the presence of your husband but the way your lover was working his fingers into you could make even the smartest of women feel dumb.

Simon didn’t respond, just glanced over through his dilated pupils, merely continuing as John crossed the bedroom sitting down on the duvet.  For a moment you thought he would just watch His lieutenant pull sweat noises from your lips, but you believed you may have seen God when his thumb made contact with your clit.

“Give us another, pretty girl.”  You weren’t sure in that moment exactly who the words came from; you were unable to respond. All you knew was that the words were being spoken to you. 

And you did, not that you could help it. It was almost instantaneous, the way your body tensed before releasing. You drenched Simon’s torso, you didn’t even realize what you’d done at first, you squirt so rarely.  Once their hands came to a halt, you blinked you opened your eyes. Embarrassment worked its way onto your already pink cheeks.

“I’m s…” Your apologies were instantly cut off. “Shut up.” The words weren’t mean despite the quickness and aggression in them. It wasn’t mean, it was desperate. Shirts were ripped off, pants unzipped. While you lay there heaving and trying to come down from your high.

There was zero protest from you when you were lifted from your spot on the bed. You were pulled to lay on top of Simon‘s chest. Even in your limp and already fucked out state, you had half of mind to protest simply because of his bruise. The words died in your throat though, as your husband knelt in front of you.

“Be good okay, Pretty?” John said, positioning your legs, pushing your knees against your shoulders as Simon held the underneath of your thighs. You nodded, both men seemingly took that as their go ahead.

Simon pushed himself into you, a sensation you had gotten used to throughout the years. He was big, but he likes your ass, so it’s not an abnormal feeling either. You whine and wiggle a little at first, but as he settles, your body got used to the stretch, as you tipped your head back John too, began nudging your wet hole with the reddened, hard tip of his cock.

John, however, did not give you the same consideration as Simon, there was no time to get used to the stretch. He plunged himself to the hilt, touching your cervix. In an instant it was as if everyone let out a sigh of relief, like this, despite the responsibilities and lives of every person, was exactly where they were all meant to be.

Both of your men began moving, each at their own pace. Each grunting and groaning. You don’t believe in heaven, it has always seemed an abstract concept. But this? This has to be it.

As they both rutted into you, you whined. “Don’t start crying on me now, princess.” John’s deep voice commanded. You obey as best you can. Simon squeezes on your thigh as he continues his relentless pace. The huffing and gripping onto his arms is all you can do to keep from screaming in pleasure.

They each continue with rapidly increasing speeds, speaking filthy things to you as they near their individual climaxes. “Milkin’ me fokin’ dry.”  The first words from Simon’s mouth in a while, an indication of just how close he was. 

John was not far off, his breathing was rapid, his grip on your knees nearing on painful. His strokes got harder, rougher. Then all at once you could feel him snap, you could feel the warmth of him spilling into you. His pace slowed as he rode out his orgasm.

Simon did not stop. Soon his pace too slowed as he filled you up with him. 

You all lay there for a moment, no one speaking. Just breathing in the comfortable, love filled space. You always know exactly what to do to give them the little TLC they need.

CoD Masterlist

[lovebugrry]

SPRING INTO SUMMER JACK HUGHES

summary as jack goes through his healing process, he can’t help falling in love with you

pairing jack hughes x athletic trainer oc

You weren’t in Vegas when Jack rammed into the boards, but you were present for the aftermath.

The immediate surgery Jack underwent after his collision with the boards was one of the things your mentor, Matt the head Athletic Trainer for the New Jersey Devils, used to teach you.

While you were in the process of training for your board exams, you were given the opportunity to learn under him because of your exceptional grades and performance at Rutgers University.

Although you’d loved the rush you felt on the sidelines of football games at SHI Stadium, nothing could compare for your passion for hockey.

In this office of the Athletic Training room inside of Prudential Center, you were completing an injury report for one of the players with a minor strain, when Jack knocked on the office door.

This appearance wasn’t irregular at all, Jack spent most of his time at Prudential Center in the training room now, while everyone else was on the ice practicing.

Being put in charge of Jack’s rehabilitation process had been something you were awaiting to have the responsibility of. Of course Matt had to approve everything you were doing, but it was nice to feel in charge of such a huge part of the team.

“Hey Bella, do you have a sec?” he asked leaning on the side of the open door frame.

You rolled out of your desk, and turned your chair towards him, “Yeah for sure, what’s up?”

You couldn’t deny that Jack wasn’t good looking, and the fact that you guys were close in age didn’t hurt.

“I was wondering if I could start doing more intense workouts, I mean my shoulders pretty strong now,” he said while moving his shoulder around, smiling.

Jack was probably one of the most stubborn athletes you’d worked with, all he wanted to do was get back on the ice and play hockey.

You gave Jack a knowing look, “Look Jack, it’s gonna be a while until you’re at 100% and that’s okay. You’re not a machine, you’re human.”

He walked closer to you, “I know, I just want to make sure I’m gonna be alright by next season.”

“And you will be, if you keep taking it easy and going at the pace your body is ready to. Forcing yourself to do things that hurt, is gonna affect you more in the long run,” you argued back knowing you guys went back and forth like this weekly.

Before he could reply, some players walked in, signaling the end of morning skate.

Getting up from your chair to attend to them you started to walk towards the door, “We can talk about this more later if you want, but it’s going to be the same answer every time.”

He had a fake pout on his face, while you continued, “Now come do your rehab, before I have to kick you out,” you joked.

Walking into the main training room, you were greeted with Dawson, Nico, and Luke doing their daily rehab.

While Nico was stretching out his leg, he started, “I think I messed up my knee during practice, doc,” he stopped his stretches and pointed towards his leg.

“First off, I’m not a doctor like I’ve told you about a million times. And second, let me see.”

Leaning down, you told him to tell him if the way you were moving his leg hurt.

While moving his leg, his silence was very telling about his condition.

“I have an inkling you’re lying to me so you can play tomorrow,” you said because you could tell he was in pain because of the way he flinched when you maneuvered his leg.

“Bella, why would I ever lie to you?” Nico said in a joking way, almost laughing.

You nodded your head laughing, “I’ll get you some ice for now, but I want to see you before the game tomorrow.”

After giving Nico his ice bag, and making sure everyone around the training room was doing alright, you headed back to your office.

When you entered, you were met with Jack in your chair, on his phone.

“Well you sure got comfortable, didn’t you?” You said, taking a seat in another chair that was next to yours.

“Bella, we’e good friends aren’t we?” Jack said, putting down his phone unexpectedly.

“I guess so? Why do you ask,” you said genuinely confused, he’d always jokingly called you guys “best friends” but he seemed completely serious now.

“Would you ever wanna hang out, like outside of this,” he said motioning throughout the training room.

You ruffled your eyebrows, “I mean, sure? I mean what would we do.”

“Whatever you want,” he said smiling widely.

Since Jack had ask you to hang out, two weeks ago, it felt like you guys had become a lot closer.

You’d both went out for coffee, hung out on his couch watching movies with Luke, and went on walks together. Honestly, he’d been a better friend than you thought he could be.

You couldn’t deny that your thoughts of a romance between you and Jack lingered around your mind, but he hadn’t made any advances and you didn’t wanna ruin your relationship.

While you were stretching Luke out on the training room bed, Jack watched intently doing his own rehab, “Bella do you wanna carpool tomorrow?” He asked out of the blue.

“I guess so, why?”

“I was thinking we could go get dinner after,” he responded.

“Okay, fine by me,” you said continuing to stretch out Luke’s leg.

When you entered Jack’s SUV the next morning, you looked back to find Luke in back seat on his phone, “Why is he sitting in the back seat?” You asked looking towards Jack’s tired eyes.

Before Jack could reply Luke did for him, “He made me get back here the second we pulled up,” he said clearly annoyed.

Jack kept his eyes on pulling out of the parking lot of your apartments, not acknowledging Luke’s attitude pointed towards him.

Later, after you’d finished up assisting Matt with everyone in the training room, you texted Jack wondering where he’d gone, and he quickly replied back telling you to go down to his car.

Walking up to his BMW, you saw him in the drivers seat, and joined him on the passengers side.

“Hi Jack,” you said buckling your seatbelt.

“Hey Bell, I was thinking we could go to this one Italian restaurant I like,” he said while putting his hand on the back of the passengers seat to pull out.

There was something about a man who knew they were attractive, but didn’t always feel the need to flaunt it, that made you crazy. Just the way Jack did simple things, that he probably didn’t even notice, that made you so attracted to him.

“That’s fine, whatever you want,” you agreed easily, “So why’d you even wanna go to dinner tonight?” you questioned.

Jack glanced at you and smiled, “Why can’t I have dinner with one of my best friends?”

You laughed at his sarcastic tone, “Sorry for asking, Mr. I don’t like going out during the season.”

“We’re not going out, we’re having a nice dinner.”

The rest of the drive was filled with you guys silently listening to whatever song you played on Jack’s phone. For a hockey player, Jack didn’t get many notifications on his phone. You weren’t snooping, you just happened to glance at his notifications.

Once you arrived to the restaurant, you entered and were met with a beautiful, clearly high-end restaurant.

“God Jack, if you’d told me this was nice, I would’ve dressed up more,” you said gesturing to your body adorned with straight leg blue jeans and a knit sweater.

“You look beautiful, come on,” he said letting you walk infront of him, with his hand on your back leading you towards a booth.

Once you sat down and skimmed the menu you looked up smiling towards him, “Damn, Jack this place is nice, do you bring all your girl friends here?”

“No, just you.”

When the waiter came to take your order, they recognized Jack, “Who is this lovely lady? You’re usually just here with your brother,” the man questioned with a thick Italian accent.

“This is Bella, Lorenzo.” Jack said replying to the waiter by name.

Once he took both of you guys’ orders the conversation between you and Jack flowed easily.

When there was a moment of silence Jack looked at you intently, “Could you ever see us being more than just friends?”

You stared at him, smiling widely, “I think I would like that.”

Once both of you guys finished eating while having quiet conversation, you quietly exited the restaurant and he drove you to your apartment.

When Jack walked you up to your apartment door, he spoke happily, “Thank you for coming to dinner with me tonight.”

“Thank you for inviting me, I had a really nice time.” You replied.

There was a few seconds of silence before Jack spoke quietly, “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d like that alot.”

Before you could take another breath, Jack leaned in and kissed you softly.

The kiss didn’t break before he whispered quietly against your lips, “You’re perfect.”

JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST — MASTERLIST

[evilminji]

Neeeew Concept~☆!

But I haven't abandoned my other babies! I am just Cursed™ by the cruel and fickle Idea Fairy!

A (Divine? They are unsure!) Spirit Beast SI-OC!

She wakes up. Very Shiny. Oh hey... I can float! ....kinda? Wibble wobble floaty baby. Smol mlem, tiny paws. VERY fluffy. Critically though? Very, VERY sharp teeth. Can bite through steel and stone teeth. DANGER baby.

Wherems't the FUCK am I?

Information pops into her head. Just... wasn't there... now it is? Like? SPECIFICALLY where she is. Down to the EXACT tree branch. Huh... well that's not normal. Hey, Brain Siri? The Fuck?

..........Okay, too vague. Trying again.

WHY am I here? "Reincarnation" wow. Helpful. What a ten out of ten, helpful response. She NEVER would have guessed that! Grumpy SI-OC is Grumpy. She ain't got no thumbs. Okay, WHY is she a... cat? Glowy? Antlered... wing... thing? A whatever she is! Why?

"A life well lived. This is a reward."

Hmmmm.... doubt, but okay, she guesses. Then? Something finally registers. In that long ass list? Of "Here Is The EXACT Place You Are"? She got the distinct vibe... whiff... thingy? The BRAIN THING or whatever, of her secret favorite Trash Novel! Has she been FUCKIN ISEKAI'D‽‽

"Technically, she's been reincarnated, but yes."

( ˶°-°) !! #panic

Quick! Wobble fly! Wobble fly like your LIFE DEPENDED ON IT! Her horrible, horrible, trash son might be being ABUSED! Hold on Binghe! Mama's coming! She promises! Hugs and no hell pocket dimensions for you! Therapy! Frank discussion about consent and reasonable harem sizes! AaaaaaAAAAAAA-!!!!!!

Except? Hold the phone. WHOMS'T THE FUCK? Is that DISGUSTING feeling man, deliberately trying to fuck up that child's spiritual veins? Can't he see that boy is in excruciating pain!? D:< Death from ABOOOOOVE!!! *echoing feline yowl*

Which? Is how Shen Jiu? Mere MOMENTS? Before his spiritual veins can take no more and fracture forever? Is saved. By... a flying... glowing? Kitten deer? With wings. It goes STRAIGHT for his Master's face. Draws blood. Is clearly trying to maul him to death.

And after what the man just tried to DO to him? He makes a split second decision to thrown in on the cat's side.

Except... they are a baby and a starved teenager. Against an adult Demon Cultivator. He's turning the tide. Quickly. But! SI-OC has the power of God and anime Brain Siri on her side! Is there anything she Can do? She asks. Anyone nearby who can HELP?

.....actually? Yes.

Guess who's visiting his cultivator girlfriend? Because these are public roads? And he's a fuckin Heavenly Demon with an impossibly good sense of hearing?

Tianlang-jun, Demon Emperor, Lord and undisputed master of the South... hears a tiny little voice, with a desperate and squeaky lil voice, scream for his help.

By Name.

He appears out of fuckin NOWHERE. To stomp this human like the ANT he is. Hello~ Children! You called this old man? ^-^ probably holding the fucker up by the neck as he's talking. Like? Aaaw. Look, Nephew! A feral, bite-y child! Su Xiyan would love one of those! He's just like her! *Shen Jiu, terrified but refusing to cower, tries to stab the Literal Emperor Of All Demons*

It's like a hissing baby cat.

He decides to take his New (Pet?) Human Child (no ^-^ not asking~) to Su Xiyan. Look! He rescued it! :D reward him with kisses! *shen jui slowly turns to stare incredulously at the cat that saved him* (look, she panicked okay!? They were LOSING! At least now we're alive! And no one can touch you!)

And like? By the time they get there? Shen Jiu already has like... the next 50 years of human/demon political relations planned out and is scheming to get FULL access to this man's library. Give. He WANTS it. Shen Jiu is go get Yue Qi, who's prayers while trapped in seclusion sent the cat (yeah, she completely ratted his ass out. Besides, can the PROVE she's lying?), take over the Demon court, and then have everything they could ever want. Forever.

It's adorable. Tianlang-jun thinks his scheming lil murder face is so cute! And? Aaaw~ did you poison my noodles? Precocious lil brat~☆! *obnoxious cooing noises* *shen jiu tries to stab him with his chop sticks*

But! That all stops? When Shen "I have suffered Pervs and know what they look like" Jiu gets ONE(1) look at the Palace Master talking to Su Xiyan and? *deafening mental alarms*

It's? Kinda? Obvious. When both the Spirit Beast and his lil stabby child? Break off mid-sentence to just... stare murder. Hackles raised. Only getting more murderous the longer they watch his love's "honorable elder" talk to her. Huh.... so that's NOT normal? It's something I should... look in to? Fatally perhaps?

Good to Know™

[yuurei20]

Is it true that Cater is a playboy? I've seen some people saying that he's a Playboy, but I'm not sure if its canon. Thanks!!

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question!

This was also mentioned a little bit in response to an earlier question about Cater's habit of flirting with people, which includes a compilation of screenshots of what is probably the kind of scenes that people are thinking about when they talk about Cater being a playboy!

But I think this might depend on your definition of "playboy" 👀

As of this post, the only canonical romantic relationship we have heard of in the game (on EN 👀) is Ace and his ex-girlfriend!

If your definition of "playboy" is "someone who dates a lot of different people," then "playboy" does not apply to Cater, as far as we know :>

What we do know is this!

His family moved around a lot when he was a child so, at some point, he started intentionally keeping his interpersonal relationships shallow rather than try to forge meaningful connections:

"That's why I always tried to be on good terms with everyone, rather than forge strong bonds with a chosen few. Like a circus performer who has a grand old time with people from around the world, and then packs up and moves on."

While never stated outright, it is a common theory that this is why Cater keeps Trey at arm's length during Wish Upon a Star:

Trey is already his closest friend, so Cater might be keeping up a buffer zone of secrets like what his true wish for the Star Sending is so that they do not become any closer, and their inevitable parting will be less painful.

Lilia tries to encourage Cater, saying that, in deciding not to get too close to any one person he may be the wisest one there, but Cater is not convinced that Lilia can truly empathize:

"Lilia's developed cherished relationships while living in the same place his whole life. There's no way he could ever understand how helpless I feel."

Another thing we know about Cater is that he might be feeling the loss of one, specific friend in particular! He tells Silver that he remembers making a friend at a new school one time, only to immediately learn that he would be moving away again the next month.

It is interesting that he mentions this one friend in particular--were they the catalyst? Was that the point when he decided that he would never get close to another person? We do not know 👀

If you are seeing "playboy Cater" coming from the JP side of the fandom, it is possibly because his speech patterns are that of a チャラい character on JP!

I think "flirt" is a decent translation for チャラい? 🧐 (It was localized as "shallow" on EN, and is the reason why Eliza rejects Cater during the Phantom Bride event.)

They are characters that talk/look flashy, seem shallow, and tend to flirt with everyone equally rather than picking someone specific to pursue. (Orange hair is common but is not required ww)

This survey of 3,324 people voted the top three チャラい anime characters as Moroboshi Ataru (Urusei Yatsura), Saeba Ryo (City Hunter) and Lupin III, to give you an idea of the チャラい character archetype ^^

And a common theme of Twst is: appearances can be deceiving!

Vil and Lilia seem to suspect Cater of having "a morose side that the rest of us never see" hidden by his sunny disposition, but Cater claims otherwise 👀

Much like Epel appears delicate but is actually the opposite and Lilia appears young but is actually old, it is possible that Cater intentionally acts shallow while actually he has a complex inner world--he is flighty not because he is trying to attract people, but because he is trying to keep them away.

More here! ^^

・Cater's Inner Life ・Cater's Childhood

To the original question: I do not believe that we have heard about Cater having any relationships (romantic or otherwise) at all except for one single friend from pre-NRC, which might not qualify him as a "playboy"! ^^

[readerhead]

Locked up feelings ode

summary: could you bear the pain in your chest of helping Seth with Summer one last time? Probably not, but you'll do it anyway.

pairing: Seth x fem!reader

warnings: trashy poetry written by me (if you think there's any other I should add, let me know please)

words: 3.2k

a/n: this is my first time writing for Seth and posting after almost two years (I wrote some things now and then but nothing finished or good enough) so don't be harsh on me, please! I just love unrequited (not actually) love stories and love Seth Cohen and his sarcastic ass so here's my attempted ode to that. As always, feel free to correct any mistakes because English isn't my mother tongue and I really really really hope at least one of you enjoy it half as much as I enjoyed picturing the scenes :)

----------------------------------

"You're going to this night's event?" Seth talked while you got some books out of the locker.

"My parents are making me, but we can ditch after a while and hang out." you said, closing the door and facing him.

"Of course... Yeah... Or you could help me out?" his puppy eyes and hand scratching his nape distract you a little.

"With what now?"

"You know, getting near Summer."

"Again with this, Seth? She isn't interested."

"She kissed me!"

"And then went back to ignoring you. You deserve better, someone who doesn't hide you."

"Maybe... But it's Summer." you raised your eyebrow. "Okay, one last chance and if it doesn't work I'll shut up about her."

"You promise?

"I promise."

The only thing you liked about these events was playing a little dress up. So when you were at the Cohen's, waiting for the boys to be ready, you talked with Sandy and Kirsten until they finally came out.

"I'm going with Marissa, she's out right now. Later, guys." Ryan almost always left you with Seth alone for Marissa, you liked him, but didn't get to know him that much.

"Are you coming with us?" Seth asked after gulping.

"No, I'm just here for a visit. In fact I have this fancy dress just for your view, after you finish enjoying the view I'm going to bed."

"Haha, so funny." his sarcastic response to yours made you stick your tongue out.

"My parents had to go early to talk business stuff and I didn't wanna be the first one there. You know what they say: good things take their time."

"Then you should've been early."

"And you should never arrive." Sandy and Kirsten didn't even bother to interrupt you two, just restrained to smile at your bickering.

When you finally arrived at the event you were chatting and having fun with Cohen, until he saw her.

"She's here." he was stiff and panicked.

"How do you want me to help you?" anyone that had heard you would know that you were full of bullshit and you didn't want to do it. Anyone except Seth Cohen.

"I don't know." he looked like there were a million thoughts running through his mind. "You know? In movies they make the other person jealous. I think that is the only thing I haven't tried."

"You want me to help you make her jealous? For that you'll need someone as outstanding as her."

" Oh, come on! You look gorgeous, you're hot and funny. She's definitely gonna get jealous!" you blushed more than when you saw him in swimming trunks a couple years ago when puberty hit him well. "Please? She's looking."

"One last shot. No more."

"Fine." you grabbed his tie, playing with it.

"You know, Cohen? To make this believable you'll have to relax." you passed your hands by his shoulders, giving a little massage. He relaxed. "I've always thought suits really make you a great ass." he laughed and blushed. "You know how cute you look when you blush? Summer's loss if she doesn't see it."

"You know she isn't near enough to hear all of this, right?"

"I don't know how to fake it, so I gotta actually flirt."

"Uh, okay." you have never seen him this red and nervous, not even the day he horribly went blank in the middle of a presentation.

"So, Cohen." your hands finding a new place in his chest, only the lord knows how much you've dreamt of that feeling.

"Mhmm?" he mumbled looking deep into your eyes, incapable of forming a verbal answer.

"What do you say about taking this to the next step?" he nodded fervently. "Was that a yes?"

"Yes- I mean- Yeah." he opened his mouth in shock when you brought him closer by his tie.

"Good, that's what I was hoping." you kissed him, you didn't like the feeling of thinking this was all because of the jealous Summer pantomime, but you forgot it the moment your lips and his touched. The kiss was a little sloppy at first, he wasn't very skilled, but it was so perfect you even dare to include a little tongue play. After a little you draw away leaving just mere inches between the two.

"There's no way anyone could've missed this kiss." you felt amazing under his gaze as if he was actually in love with you. "Not even Summer."

"Oh, right." you have to put on your best smile to not let him see through you. "You know what? I probably have to touch up my lipstick, why don't you see if it worked while I go to the bathroom?" your smile trying its best to cover your growing tears.

"Oh, yeah. That's a good idea, clearly. I'm gonna go. Now." the gesturing you usually find endearing now it's like needles in your heart. So you went away, trying your best not to run until you found a better spot to finally cry.

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry." you clean your tears the fastest you can, taking a mirror from your purse to clean a little bit of your now disastrous make-up.

"Don't be, Ryan. My ugly-crying loser butt is not your fault."  you looked up. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my little escape." he said, loosening his tie and taking a seat by your side at the stairs. "I'm still trying to get used to this type of... environment." you nodded. "So you wanna talk about Seth?"

"What about him?"

"You don't have to lie, it's pretty clear for anyone with eyes. Well, except for him. Also, the little stunt you both put out there made everyone know it."

"So everyone knows I have an unrequited crush, uh? How cool. Yay."

"Unreq-? Have you ever talked to him about your feelings?" he looked in disbelief.

"I tried. Once. A couple years ago. I had this date planned out. I told him that we should go to a nice, kinda fancy restaurant, I even dressed up." you made a pause to sniffle. "When I arrived at his house he was in his casual clothes and when he saw me he looked puzzled. He even had the nerve to ask where I was going after and I told him about the reservation and he laughed at it. He thought it was a joke. The idea of a date with me was a joke for him."

"That was clearly a misunderstanding." Ryan tried to make sense.

"After that something changed, I started going to parties and random dates with random guys just to not dwell on that and his crush on Summer started. All he could talk about was her. Next thing I know: I'm crying after kissing him because he went after her."

"I think you need to talk to him."

"I'm not going to, I'll just take some distance." you got up. "And please, Ryan? Keep a secret." he looked at you seriously and after a little internal battle he nodded.

After that event, you didn't have it in yourself to face Seth, so when he called for you to order take out and have your weekly hangout you lied saying you had a cold. It fit perfectly as an excuse to why you left early and to avoid him all weekend. But Monday came and, for your disgrace, your parents never let you skip class. So there you were, at your last class handing your English assignment. A poetry assignment. How ironic, the type of writing made to put feelings beautifully when all you felt were horrendous ones.

"This was the first part of the assignment. Now I'm going to shuffle them and give each one a random paper. The second and last step is going to be writing a poem copying your partner's style." this can't be happening. Your poem was really personal, you hoped it got to anyone but Seth. Hell, even Luke would do, but not him.

Your heart was racing as the teacher started handing out the papers. You've got one handed, some kid's who isn't important right now. You rushed to your locker, changing your books the fastest you could, hoping not to bump into Seth because in your mind he had it.

"Hey!"

"For fucks sake, Ryan. Are you suddenly Batman or why are you so sneaky?"

"I think the adrenaline is the one keeping you from hearing." you locked the door and gave him a look. "What do you want?" you said while starting to walk, he walked by your side.

"I told Seth I had to talk to you about a present I wanna give Marissa so you'll be my ride." you both passing the hall doors

"That's obviously not true, so apart from a ride, why are you here for?" you said taking out you car keys and walking to your car.

"I've got your poem." your heart stopped and you urged him to get in the car.

"Thank God it's you and not him." you sighed in relief. "Please, don't show him."

"I'm not, I just wanted to tell you your secret is safe with me. I saw how pale you looked when the teacher said the second part of the assignment. If Seth wasn't buying the whole being sick stuff I can guarantee you that now he does."

"I'm gonna bake you the biggest cake in the world, truly. In fact, I'm going to do it the moment I get home." you smiled and hugged him. "Thank you, really."

The moment you got home you started baking. What you didn't know was that in the next house a brown-haired boy was asking Ryan all details about you.

"How was she?" he was short to ask the moment he saw his best friend

"A little sick, doing better."

"Oh, thank goodness! I thought I'd have withdrawal effects if we didn't have our weekly date." Ryan gave him a look. "Date as in friends."

"Friends don't date. Why don't you just admit you have feelings for her?"

"I left my feelings for her the night she broke my heart."

"Remind me how'd she done that?"

"I was gonna tell her I liked her, here at the pool house bought flowers and everything." he sat on the sofa. "Then she got mad when I said I didn't want to go to the fancy dinner because I thought it was a joke. And she didn't know that I've had all of the evening planned, but it still hurts. Then she started to have interest in guys, started dating as if it was a I've-never-liked-you-Seth-take-a-hint kind of way."

"And then you started liking Summer?" Seth nodded. "As in I'll-try-to-obsess-over-something-else-to-hide-my-actual-feelings kind of way?"

"It's not like that."

"So when she kissed you, you didn't run to me to tell it was the best kiss ever?"

"That being a kiss Golden-Globes-worthy doesn't mean that."

"How about how you look at her? Or the fact that you have her name written all over your notebooks?"

"...It's not like that." Ryan gave him a pointed look. "Whatever, it's not like she likes me."

"Maybe she does, you don't know if you don't try." he looked at his shoes for a moment.

"By the way, whose poem do you have?"

"Someone, nothing you'd be interested in."

"Man, you're no fun."

"Whatever, I've gotta go. I have an actual date." Seth mocked him while Ryan left the pool house.

"Her. Liking me. Tsk." he scoffed thinking of the idea. He was going to leave when he saw a paper peaking through Ryan's backpack, maybe it was the poem. He could do a little laugh at some rich kid from the O.C. trying to be a poet so he took it. He froze when he saw your name, "nothing I'd be interested in, right Ryan?" he thought. The title left him clueless, "season's unrequited ode", now he needed to read it, how could he not?

You know I could, right?

I could reverse the days

make sun rise on west,

your boat on the bay,

that endless holiday rest.

I know you like it bright,

how shiny is her sun,

that you don't like my cloudy eyes

when they rain instead of run.

Would that be wise?

She's so fun and light.

So, how could I blame you?

Hey, I'm just your orange routine

the pumpkin you blew

huh, for that watermelon flavoured teen.

You loved short nights,

but I know you'll come back

to cozy blanket comic book times.

Even if you reminisce the not so dark.

Even with my heart as your crime.

Hi, I'm fall.

Hey, I'm falling!

Ouch, I fell.

Man, he fell.

Fuck, just not for fall.

Just a couple minutes after Ryan left you made your way to the Cohen’s. 

"Hi, Kirsten!"

"Hey kid! Is that for Seth? You can put it in the fridge."

"Uhm, this is actually for Ryan. Is he in the pool house?" the woman avoided asking all the questions she had in that moment.

"I don't know, I've just arrived. You can go check yourself." and so you did.

"Hey, Ryan! Are you at ho... Oh. Hi, Seth." the way all your muscles contracted when you saw him didn’t go unnoticed.

"Glad to see you're better." you left the cake in the fridge.

"Yeah, you know. With the right pills..." you shove your hands into the rear pockets of your jeans. "I should get going." you walked to the door.

"Is this true?" you turned around and saw for the first time the paper he was holding in his hand.

"What is tha... Wait, Ryan gave it to you? But he pro-"

"I took it thinking it was some random kid's bad poetry."

"Oh." you turned around. "Yep, I should definitely get going." you didn't know when he got so fast but in no time you feel a hand on your wrist.

"Tell me, is this true?" you turned to face him, but your eyes didn't meet his.

"Look, Seth. I've got my feelings hurt again and again enough. I don't wanna have to do this." you looked up to see his eyes.

"The truth. Please." his gaze was soft and you've never had the willpower to deny him anything, not even help with Summer.

"I-" you didn't know how to start. "It doesn't even matter. What do you want? Make fun of me for the rest of your life?"

"So it's really about my crush for Summer?"

"Seth, let it be. I don't want you mocking me, I have enough seeing you drooling over other girl!"

"There's no other girl."

"Oh, come on! It's always 'Summer this', 'Summer that' and-"

"I've never liked Summer!" he cut you off. "She was never an option, I only started that because you clearly never wanted anything to do with me, so I tried to make you think I wasn't in love with you when I clearly always had a crush on you. No, not even a crush begins to describe what I genuinely feel for you."

"What?"

"Are you going to make me say all that aga-" he was cut mid sentence, right when you understood he liked you and couldn't resist but to kiss him, this time it started more abruptly than the other, but then it became sweeter and with even more feelings noticeable than in the first.

"Hey, kid. Kirsten says that you were looki-" Sandy stopped when he saw your lips stuck to his son's, it seemed like today you were gonna leave every Cohen mid-sentence. You moved away as fast as you could. "Is this another stunt or can I scream 'FINALLY!' this time?" you were so embarrassed that you had to leave almost running.

"Good afternoon, Sandy." you said as you walked past him without making eye contact.

"Good job, dad. Good job." said Seth as he retired to his room.

"So is it for real this time?" he screamed after his son but his question went ignored.

You left on delivered the "hey" Seth texted you that evening because you were processing everything. You knew you'd encounter him at class, but you didn't have it in yourself to answer.

"Hey, can we talk?" Marissa approached you, which wasn't extremely weird, just not common.

"Of course. Do you need more pastries for the fair? I can bake some more." you assumed this was the topic based on your latest interactions.

"Oh no, you made more than enough. I wanted to talk about Seth." your demeanor stiffen with those words. "I know it's not my place, but he really likes you. Yesterday when I came home with Ryan he told us everything, he wanted me to stay because, in his words, he wanted a 'feminine opinion on the matter'."

"Uhm."

"I know we aren't the closest, but I've seen the way you pine for him and I can assure you he feels the same." she laughed a little when she remembered something. "Yesterday he was frantic when you didn't respond to his text, I really considered him having a panic attack from how fast he paced the room. Anyways, what I wanted to tell you is that maybe you should try talking to him"

"Thank you, Marissa. I'll see what I'll do." she smiled at you and went back to her locker, just for you to establish eye contact with a certain brunette you have been trying to ignore. Your face was warmer with every step he took in your direction.

"Hey." he said when he was finally in front of you.

"Hey." it was the most awkward interaction you have had in years.

"I wanted to talk to you but you ignored my message."

"I know. I'm sorry." you said truthfully. "Need a ride? We can talk in my house."

"Awesome." he said while you started walking. There was a thick tension all the time you were inside the car, you even rolled your window down for a little fresh air.

"So you like me?" you nodded with your eyes closed. "And I clearly like you, so why the hell are you ignoring me?" he asked the moment both of you stepped into the living room while you looked at his confused eyes.

"I'm not sure." he gave you the are-you-for-fucking-real look you knew too well. "I guess I still don't fully believe that you like me instead of her." you avoided his eyes while being vulnerable. "And I think I got overwhelmed when Sandy saw us kiss and I panicked and ran away."

"I meant every word I said yesterday and what I said at the event you kissed me, I genuinely think you are the smartest, funniest and most gorgeous girl I've seen in my life. And don't get me started on how hot you are because I could tell you how I discovered what was an erection."

"Seth!" you made a little fuss, your glassy eyes now with a shy smile in them.

" Better, prepubescent Seth would've hated me."

"More than enough information!" a quick pause made its way between you two.

"And as for my dad, I think he learned to knock on doors after that." you chuckled a little at that, his hands reaching to your cheeks to swipe the remains of tears you had.

"Maybe we can try it now, my parents won't come back for a couple hours yet..." he cupped your face and leaned in, for the first time the kiss was everything it had to be: calm but exciting and, specially, truthful. Even if the first part didn't last long as the passion of adolescence hit both of you.

----------------------------------

a/n: I always like to recommend a song that I think would fit with the fic and this time is no other than 'Girl Crush' specifically the version by Harry Styles.

[cher-rei]

Hi👋! I was wondering if I could request a Gavi x reader fluff fic which includes this prompt “I have no idea what I’m doing. Oh God we need a real adult to take care of you”? Basically reader is sick and Gavi says the prompt. I'm new to this blog so I'm not sure if this is how you take requests. Thank you❣️

deep breaths- pablo gavi [ P.G ]

but I promise you this. I'll always look out for you [sparks- coldplay]

pairing: pablo gavi x fem!reader

summary: taking care of you when sick brings more anxiety for gavi than he'd thought.

genre(s): established relationship, fluff, slight angst

[wc: 2.2k] masterlist

notes: I was sick while writing this and I swear I felt the words float off my screen because my head was spinning like crazy. but this prompt was cute as hell so I hope you enjoy it xx

the house was empty— all the lights were still off, except for the blue hue from the swimming pool's lights that could be seen illuminating through the ceiling to floor window in the living room.

a heavy sigh left your lips when you shut the front door, your sluggish strides heavy and painful as you made your way to the couch so you could catch your breath after today's stress.

you were drowning in university work and assignments and have been staying in the library for excessive hours after classes just to get a grip on whatever was piled on you. this was the fourth time this week that you'd gotten home late which gavi wouldn't be happy about at all.

so when you saw that his car still wasn't in the driveway when you pulled up you thanked the heavens and the fact that he was still at pedri's house. he hated when you over-exerted yourself which you were prone to— being the workaholic that you were.

he never failed to give you a heartfelt scolding whenever this happened, telling you that you needed to eat, reminding you to take a break and even resorting to forcing you out of your chair just to rest with him.

but today you weren't ready for that, not with the way that your head was pounding. when you sat down on the couch a wave of relief washed over you and the urge to succumb to the tiredness sat on your chest but you couldn't fall asleep... you just needed to rest your eyes for a minute.

there was excitement in gavi's strides when he got home, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and not let go until the following day. he just missed you that much to the point where he barely said bye to pedri when he left and got straight into his car.

it was 8:24 p.m. so he knew you'd still be awake, probably in the kitchen baking something seeing as it was friday. every friday you could be caught baking something to distress yourself with a smile and the music playing while you hummed carelessly.

but that wasn't the case today because the house was eerily quiet. gavi didn't like that one bit and immediately called for you, seeing as it was dark. but when he got no response his pace quickened only to find you sprawled on the couch still with your clothes on.

not again, he thought and crouched down beside you.

"amor I'm home," he whispered and nudged you slightly, earning a disgruntled moan from you while you took a bit to wake up.

he watched you sit up with slight worry and it was clear that you hadn't planned on falling asleep judging by your confused expression as you looked around, until you were somewhat coherent.

you looked at your boyfriend with a lopsided smile. "hello baby, how was your day?"

"are you feeling okay?" he asked, brushing off your question and put a hand to your cheek. he wasn't pleased with how warm you were and moved his hand your forehead but you tried to pull it off.

you were screwed, to say the least, because you were burning up. before gavi could even say anything about the matter you pushed the fact that you were fine and tried to stand up. horrible decision. a sharp pain ran through your head and you swore you could feel it in your eye sockets.

a painful groan left your lips and immediately gavi was at your side, his hand carefully around your waist for stability in fear that you were going to fall. "oh no. I knew this was going to happen."

hear it comes.

your eyes shut tightly while gavi rambled on about you being sick, saying that you should have listened to him and not over exert yourself because he knew how bad of a toll it took on you. you loved him, but right now was not the time for a lecture.

"pablo I'm fine." you kissed the back of his hand reassuringly but he couldn't help but feel horrible. "I just need some rest okay?"

"I think you need more than just some sleep baby. this--"

you shook your head slightly, looking directly into his eyes so that he could see that you were fine. "--I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going to sleep. there's no need to worry because I'm fine, okay?"

okay? as if. gavi could see right through you and even though he played it off, the second you hopped into the shower he was already halfway to the pharmacy with his phone in hand, his mother on the line for proper instructions.

he's never actually taken care of someone when they were sick before because funny enough he was always the patient. whether it be an injury or the flu you were taking care of him and now it was his turn to be just as gentle and patient until you felt better.

his mother asked him questions in and out— how high was your temperature? were your muscles aching? were you throwing up? all questions he couldn't answer that well because he just knew that you were sick and needed medication immediately.

"uhm she's hot...? I mean she couldn't walk so I guess so. I don't think she even ate enough to be able to throw up."

the panic in his voice had his mother stressing just as much but she stayed on the line until he got back home and wished him luck because she knew just how stubborn you were when it came to being sick.

when he got home you were sleeping, your eyebrows knitted together in discomfort which made him feel horrible. how was he supposed to take care of you like this? he didn't know what he was doing at all.

but gavi pushed it aside and decided to call it a night and left the bathroom light on just in case. he crept in beside you, making sure to place a soft kiss on your forehead that had gotten significantly warmer than last he checked but he didn't bother waking you.

it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, his arm loosely wrapped around your torso and it was a miracle that he didn't wake up because of all your tossing and turning.

beads of sweat began to form on your forehead and you felt light-headed but still tried your best to at least try and sleep. but you just couldn't, not when you felt this uncomfortable and were in pain.

at some point, you got up for some water to try and soothe whatever you were feeling but then the hot flushes started, and you were struggling to breathe. you were an utter mess, dizzily making your way back to bed while the floor spun beneath you.

short of breath you leant against your bedroom door— and the bang must've been loud because gavi began to stir awake, which was the last thing you wanted. he woke up to the empty space beside him and immediately shot up, his eyes squinted due to the bathroom light being on.

you watched his blurry figure get out of bed, not able to make out what he was saying by the overwhelming feeling of pain and discomfort drowning you. gavi pulled you toward his chest, his hand lightly touching your forehead and neck.

next thing you knew, you were sitting on the bathroom floor unable to catch a proper breath because you were so overwhelmed.

gavi was panicking— his heart racing as well as his thoughts because he just didn't know what to do. the closest he'd gotten to taking care of you was when you were on your period, and his routine had already been drilled in for the past two years you've been together.

he'd have your toiletry cabinet stocked, and your snack cabinet never emptied. your heating pads were always at the ready along with your tea. and your most important necessity— him. you took refuge on his chest in your moments of pain, his hand carefully places over your stomach to soothe the pain.

but this was different. he felt useless, watching you helplessly like a lost puppy.

"it's okay amor, I'm here," he said soothingly and set you against his chest on the bathroom floor, but not even the cold tiles could soothe your increasing temperature.

you fell limp against your boyfriend but fought the urge to break down. instead, a painful groan left your lips, one that had gavi holding onto you tighter in fear.

"it hurts," you croaked while trying to steady your shaky breaths.

"what hurts hm?" it sounded as if he was on the verge of tears and that had your heart shattered. gavi was paranoid by nature, especially when it came to you. so you couldn't begin to imagine what was running through him mind right now.

you took his hand into yours and put it on your chest. "everything. everything hurts."

gavi felt your shaky breaths and sat in silence, unsure of what to say— but he needed to get you that medication immediately. it wasn't going to have an immediate effect and he'd probably have to take you to the doctor tomorrow but as long as it soothed some of your pain.

he got up from the floor as delicately as he could, watching as you tried to sit up by yourself which wasn't what he wanted. "come here, angel." he picked you up with ease, cradling your body gently as you wrapped your legs around his waist and rested your head on his shoulders.

while he walked down the stairs he wondered how you didn't pass out on them on your way to fetch that glass of water. his mind flooded with thoughts like this until he made it to the kitchen and set you down on the island.

"pablo," you said breathlessly and your boyfriend immediately got through the last of your medication and set it down beside you, a worried hum leaving his lips.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and held the pills in front of you. you counted 4 and took each one as quick as possible, the water making no difference to the cooling of your temperature when it travelled down your throat.

by the time you were done, gavi had gotten a fresh cloth and began dabbing it on your neck and forehead. the two of you were enveloped in silence— your head spinning but your boyfriend's fingers resting on the small of your back, tracing small shapes on your skin beneath your shirt.

it was when you let your head rest on his shoulder that gavi felt the need to speak up, just above a whisper. "I have no idea what I'm doing right now."

your heart swelled at the sound of his half-hearted chuckle because for someone who didn't know what he was doing, he was doing a great job. he'd been so patient with you from the second he saw you lying limp on the couch. he held his composure and handled you so gently, taking the initiative and making sure that you felt at least somewhat better.

he didn't see it, but you did and were so grateful.

you left a light kiss on his neck. "don't say that amor. sure I still feel like passing out--"

"--are you serious?" he asked in shock, an upset groan leaving his mouth as he pulled away from you. "this isn't going to work."

"no baby--"

he was panicking. beating himself up for thinking that he could take care of you in this state, what did he know? he was only a child. "oh god, we need a real adult. someone who actually knows what they're doing."

you couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his rambling out of sheer panic. it was endearing in a way, your gaze softening at the innocent glint in his eyes because he was just so adorable. you urged him to calm down, your voice was soft and warm as you pulled him closer to you.

"are you not an adult, hm?" you teased with a smile and cupped his cheeks, and to your surprise, he said no without hesitation.

gavi proceeded to go on about how he still had you treating him like a baby, that you took care of him and that he was utterly useless when it came to helping you. of course, you strongly disagreed because you did feel better.

he stared into your eyes, trying to calm himself down while you reassured him. "do you not make me feel at ease? safe? comfortable? loved?" you kissed him on the cheek when he didn't reply.

"exactly, so stop being ridiculous."

gavi melted at your touch, sinking further into the crook of your neck for another moment before he took you back to bed so that you could get some sleep.

you rested your head on his chest, legs over his because you felt the need to be that close to him tonight. you felt sleep finally settle on your chest at the soothing feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

"I love you."

gavi's chest tightened at the suddenness. he shut his eyes and thanked the universe that you were in his life and kissed the top of your head. "I love you too, cariño."

[marcskywalker]

au where arthur first catches merlin using magic is when Arthur is injured come up with deep plot points here it's just the two of them out in forest, he's bleeding and slightly feverish, both getting increasingly desperate to find help.

Merlin tries his usual "perform magic while I distract arthur with a stick cause he is a 5 year old child" to heal/reduce pain for arthur he gets caught.

EXCEPTTT arthur thinks that it's the first time merlin is resorting to magic, and it's only because arthur himself is gravely hurt. He's oddly very touched by it and concerned about what this means for Merlin's heart, so he pretends and turns a blind eye (it's just one time nothing is going to come out of it. It's his bubbling fool, probably learned a trick or two from the druids or his sorcerer friend. He's not going around doing magic all day)

But, once he's seen it, he can't un-see it. The next time he's fighting off a bunch of bandits, he keeps track of merlin whose golden eyes are barely barely hidden behind a tree to stop a rogue 6 foot man from plunging his sword into arthur. Doing magic twice is dangerous territory, someone needs to warn his merlin about the dangers he's exposing himself to. And since he's doing all of this to protect arthur (and isn't that a thought!), it should be arthur's responsibility to have this talk with merlin.

"You've had your fun, Merlin. You can stop doing it now." "What?" "I know you get a kick off of breaking the law but magic is serious business-" "I have NEVER done-" "AND I appreciate you doing it for me. Truly, I do. But this needs to stop before we put ourselves in more danger. Alright?" "??????????????" "Good talk."

ofc merlin instead starts to see how much magic he can get away with (always saying that's a new trick he learned instead of something he knew from birth) since arthur doesn't seem keen on murdering/reporting him for it. except every time he does something, arthur looks like he's about to hyperventilate and pass out.

This continues for a while; Arthur will catch Merlin doing some magic mostly to protect him and he'll resort to giving a stern talk or begging or yelling at merlin to stop doing it. The longer this goes on, the cheekier Merlin gets and Arthur just gets more miserable.

He starts having nightmares of Merlin dying; sometimes caught by Uther, sometimes caught by one of his enemies. Other nights, he has nightmares of the magic corrupting merlin so much that the man beside him is unrecognizable (these are the ones that has arthur waking up gasping for breath with red rimmed eyes but you won't hear that from him).

something happens that pushes arthur over the edge to have a full blown breakdown in front of merlin

"I don't want you to corrupt your heart, Merlin. Not for anyone" the words are muffled between his sobs but Merlin hears them as though they're shouted from the rooftop, "Least of all for me. I'm not worth it. Please stop. I'm not worth it. Please. Please. I want you to be you. please... "

[seramilla]

More angst for the Homophobic Heaven AU:

The Exterminations, and therefore the Exorcists, didn't exist until thousands of years after Carmilla's fall. When they DID begin Carmilla and a few other Fallen Angels tried to fight back, only to be stopped and teleported away by Lucifer. He told them that the Exterminations were to cut down the sinner population, and while some of them questioned this decision, most accepted it.

Carmilla, on the other hand, was furious. And after the other Fallen have left, demanded to know which idiotic Elder decided that EXTERMINATION was a good idea. Only for Lucifer to tell her that SERA was the one who signed off on it. Carmilla refused to belive this, the Sera she knew and loved WOULD NEVER. Maybe she was just the one that the Elders put forth to negotiate the term? Yeah that MUST be it. Because if not... NO, her Sera would never agree to something this barbaric.

For Clara and Odette in this AU, I was thinking maybe they're Zestial's. After a couple of Beetlejuice Carmilla and Zestial get "acquainted" which results in the twins. They don't get together but they still remain good friends. Like an amicably divorced couple. He knows Carmilla is still in love with Sera and while he fills in the Father role for the girls, he makes sure to tell them stories that Carmilla told him of Sera, their other Mama.

"What do you mean Sera is responsible? She would never do this! I refuse to believe it!"

Carmilla stands before Lucifer Morningstar, king of Hell, embodiment of Pride, who is sitting on his throne, looking toward him as if he doesn't have the power to rip her asunder with a mere twitch of his claws. The amount of rage and anguish she feels at his words, the sense of outright betrayal and disbelief coursing through her body, give her a sense of bravery and defiance that any of the other embodiments of Sin simply wouldn't tolerate from their subjects.

But this is Lucifer. Her friend, her former comrade in arms, her brother, allowing her to show this much insubordination. Because he knows how she must feel, and it's not like he can fault her for it. Not one bit. Not when this news is so personal.

"Carmilla. I know this may be difficult to hear. But this information comes directly from the Elders. While someone may not be telling me the entire truth...until I hear otherwise, I have to work under the assumption that it's true."

"NO! It's not true! It can't be true! She's not that cruel!"

He's never seen so much anger in Carmilla's eyes before. Never so much raw grief and lack of composure; not from one of his oldest and closest friends. He can tell this is eating her up inside. Whether it's true or not, he can't say, but the news is having the likely intended effect on Carmilla. Heaven had wanted to wear them all down. What better way to do that, than for the source of the misery to be coming from the one Carmilla loves most?

Carmilla's companion, the demon spider Zestial, places a large, gangly black claw on the woman's shoulder. He's been standing behind her the entire time, trying not to get in the way of official angel business. He's only a Sinner, but Carmilla will rarely go anywhere without him, these days. Lucifer has permitted his presence, for her sake. He's quiet, studious, and well-behaved enough, for a Sinner. It's the least he can do.

Unfortunately, the ancient Sinner's attempt to comfort her doesn't work as well as he'd probably hoped. Carmilla steps forward, away from Zestial and closer to Lucifer. Getting up in his face. Breathing hard; pupils blown wide; for all the world like she wants to slap him.

She doesn't. It's not his fault. What good would it do, anyway? Squabbles among siblings is so beneath her. It would lead to nothing except more pain and anger between the two of them. It would accomplish nothing and make her feel even worse than she does right now.

She steps back again, her claws clenching even tighter together, and turns around to face away from him.

"I have some business I need to attend to," Lucifer says, looking up at her back that is now facing him, trying to distill the tension by offering himself a way out. "Again, I'm so sorry, Carmilla. You can stay here as long as you need to, to...compose yourself. I'll keep the others away."

Lucifer is gone in the time it takes to blink. He's teleported himself away from Carmilla's presence, not even bothering to use the door to his throne room. He likely doesn't want the others to catch a glimpse of Carmilla in her moment of weakness. She mentally thanks him for that, at the very least. Carmilla knows the way she's acting is very unbecoming. It's not like her at all.

But how is she supposed to act. When he...when Lucifer had...when he'd told her that news?

Without the presence of her king forcing her to keep it together, Carmilla's composure quite literally shatters. The woman can almost feel her heart being torn in two, as easily as someone might rip a piece of paper. With a sob of anguish, she falls apart, in every sense that a person can. Instead of collapsing onto the floor, which would be easier, she rushes toward Zestial, his arms already open and bringing her in to be sheltered by his heated embrace.

Carmilla cries, she wails, into the obsidian of his robes. He just holds her there, stroking her hair comfortingly, letting the long, loose strands flow through his claws like water.

Carmilla hadn't even had time to fix her hair this morning. That's how little she'd cared about the usual decorum of these angelic meetings. She'd told him she needed to talk to Lucifer right now, it couldn't wait, and he'd dropped everything, and teleported her right into the throne room with the seven Deadly Sins. Her and Zestial's presence hadn't exactly been...expected, but Lucifer had tolerated it. For her.

Now, as Carmilla's tears begin to soak into his robe, she grasps into the dark material with her claws, pulling a little too hard, until the fabric starts to rip. Zestial doesn't stop her, though. His robes have been through worse, and he's rather talented with a spinning wheel, so he'll just deal with it later. This is so much more important.

"How could she?" Carmilla weeps into his chest. "How could she, Zestial?"

"My dearest Carmilla," the old spider says, holding her closer to him with both arms. The hand on the back of her head strokes her neck. "We know not yet if the king spake truth, or if Heaven doth but jest with thee. Have faith, Carmilla."

"How?" Carmilla asks, bluntly. "How do I have faith in anything anymore?"

"When we are lost, and all doth seem hopeless, faith is all that remains. Heaven shall employ any wiles to make all appear for naught. Believe them not now."

Carmilla starts to calm. The smell of him, the smoke and ash wafting off the Sinner's body, is both familiar and comforting. She knows he speaks truth; Heaven cannot be trusted. It is not without precedent for them to say anything to drive a wedge between the fallen angels, or make it seem so hopeless, there's no use in fighting back. Carmilla is so embarrassed of herself. Like a child, she'd lashed out, and taken it out on Lucifer. Leave it to her oldest, dearest friend and companion to have more logic than herself.

Ever since she'd manifested down here, after Heaven had pushed her out, Zestial had been one of the few non-angels she's trusted. He's always been so different, more human, for lack of a better comparison, than any of her comrades that had fallen before her. They had changed too much, too drastically, for her to even recognize them at first. They'd lost their spark, their will to fight back...

Zestial, however, is a soul with as much wisdom as some of the angels in Heaven. He'd never lost his will to fight. In fact, it's one of the reasons he's lasted so long down here, and become such a powerful overlord. He knows when to show his hand, and also when to take a step back and assess. When to scheme, when to plan, and when to retreat. That's part of what she likes about him.

The fact that he's kind, patient, and loyal to a fault, is another reason. As well as the fact that he loves her so thoroughly, so passionately, and shows it, is yet another. She tries not to compare him to Sera, because they are absolutely not even remotely the same, but the way he holds her, kisses, her, makes love to her...it reminds her of her lost love, and the way she felt around Sera back in Heaven. But not quite. He is his own person, and had known going into this that there is still baggage there, that Carmilla still loves Sera, and yet...

He still holds her. Comforts her. Gives everything to the children they brought into the world together. Helps her keep that memory of Sera, a woman he's never met, alive for them, through his stories and fanciful tales. He doesn't have to do any of that. Gets absolutely nothing out of it except for Carmilla's endless gratitude and satisfaction. But maybe that's why he does it... Helping her and being there for her makes him happy. Carmilla doesn't think she'll ever be able to repay him.

Once Carmilla is calm, and she can look up at him with minimal new tears falling from her eyes, she can see his face is sad. But for her benefit, he smiles, ever so slightly, in that crooked, adorable way that he does. He pushes her hair behind her ear, away from her face, and then holds her cheek in his hand, to stroke it lightly.

"Fret not, Carmilla. All will become clear. Let us return to Odette and Clara. They are likely concerned for thee."

Carmilla nods. Once again, he's most likely correct. They'd left in such a hurry that morning, they hadn't had time to let the girls know where they were going.

"Okay," Carmilla says. "You're right. Let's go back."

Zestial nods in return, and then bends down, placing a final kiss to her forehead. It's not...romantic, per se, or platonic, either. It's somewhere in between. Or on a different plane entirely. It's hard to put a word to what their relationship is. But that's fine. They don't need a name for it. They are exactly what they need to be for each other, at this particular moment in time.

Pulling away, Carmilla wipes the remaining tears from her eyes. Then Zestial re-opens the portal, so they can go home to their girls, and rest off the stress of the day.

(Edit: Tagging @tanema123 cuz I know they love these two goobers, and who knows when I’ll dip my toe into Zestmilla again, Lmao)

[sirgogington]

My Word Vomit Response on the Shelby Situation

Main Situation: Last week Wilbur Soot from Lovejoy was accused of having been abusive towards his ex girlfriend Shelby. Shelby is a live streamer and last week she did a livestream about the signs of knowing if you are in an abusive relationship. She never stated his name, but from details given people started assuming it was about Wilbur Soot. A few days later Wilbur confirmed that it was him in an apology tweet on his Twitter account. The abuse had to do with painful biting, and manipulation. 

    I want to start off by saying I do believe Shelby's story. I don't think Wilbur is innocent, but I do believe this situation isn't as black and white as people are claiming it to be. 

    Former fans after hearing the story started unfollowing Wilbur and Lovejoy and saying what a terrible man that Wilbur is, and vowing to never listen to or view any of his content ever again. He's not just a terrible man, he has to be evil too. I may be optimistic but I do think most people can change for the better if they truly want to. There are exceptions, but I truly believe that Wilbur can. The internet wants to just label him as evil and not give him any room to do that. The new thing is "guilty until proven innocent" and that's super harmful as I will go into in a different post. The way people are spreading hate in a us/them mentality is not a mature way of viewing/handling this situation and does more harm than good. Especially when it comes to death threats and doxing which have been received by both sides.

   Wilbur is someone who had a hard upbringing, and has brought up at different times his struggles with mental health. On screen or on stage you would never know this about him, because he has this mask of being confident, well spoken, and joyful. Through these details Wilbur has shared we know that touring took a lot out of him mentally and put him in a bad place, but that he was seeking therapy and is probably currently still seeing a therapist to try and get better. He's shared in the past that when he first blew up on the internet he used alcohol to cope because of how overwhelming it was that so many people were consuming his content. From Shelby's stream we also learned that his living space was dirty and unhygienic and that he would make excuses for it. The details for me paint the picture of a guy struggling badly with mental illness and having a hard time caring for himself and his home. Someone who can hardly take care of themselves should not have been in a relationship. This puts a lot on the other person.  It's different if he were stable and then then his mental health crashed in the middle of a longer relationship, but not if your too mentally ill to begin with. I do deeply feel sorry that Shelby had to experience that, as it truly shouldn't have happened. 

   I went to school for psychology and know quite a bit about different types of mental illnesses. I am by no means diagnosing Wilbur, but I do think he shows signs of someone with Boderline Personality Disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder is an emotional disregulation disorder characterized by unstable mood, behavior, and relationships. People with BPD self sabotage and will frequently end up pushing people away because they don't think they're good enough for them. (In this case maybe he wanted to act so bad so she would leave him, which is very unhealthy). People with BPD also go through depressive episodes and can act impulsively. Without therapy it is extremely hard to cope with this condition but with therapy you can make great strides in changing. I think like most mental illnesses you are aware of the fact you don't like the way you're acting you just have a hard time controlling it. For instance for me growing up with anxiety I knew most of my fears were completely irrational but that didn't stop them from overtaking my life and still feeling anxious. Wilbur has written some really deep lyrics on his new solo album Mammalian Sighing Reflex and I feel like it reflects that he doesn't like the way he is and feels guilty about those he's harmed through it. Maybe I'm giving this man too much credit, but like I said I do believe most people are capable of changing for the better. 

   Shelby stated she did the livestream as a way to help protect other victims of domestic violence and Wilbur Soot himself. He might still be dangerous to the public, it's really hard to know. I know after my own situation with being manipulated I was worried about the guy going after other younger women like he had with me. I didn't want anyone else have to be in that situation so I understand where Shelby is coming from. I also know that if the guy in my life had ever posted an apology, no matter how good it was, that I still wouldn't believe him and have a hard time forgiving him. Bold take but I think his apology was at least decent. Could it have been better, yeah, but could it have been a lot worse, also yes. In his apology he admits to being the person Shelby was talking about. He states that her feelings are valid, and that he wants people to hold him to higher accountability, and that he was sorry for any hurt he caused. Maybe he isnt, but it's hard to know. Wilbur stated in a livestream from last October 2023 that he was going to therapy the next day, because of this we can assume that Wilbur has been going to therapy at minimum since October. In that same livestream he states that he showers once a day when he's in his "big sad", and that he has rented places all over Brighton. He is at least hygienic in this regard, maybe moreso than he was before. It could be a red flag that Wilbur has lived all over Brighton due to possible evictions whether that be negligence or noise complaints from doing livestreams.

   We'll never know how other content creators truly feel about him except for the ones that made it obvious. Of course most content creators are going to jump on the bandwagon and agree that he's an evil man. If they don't then they'll lose their platform because of all the hate they'd get. I do believe some content creators will still hang out with Wilbur secretly or still even remain his friend. But we'll never know. 

   For the people who are posting different video evidences of Wilbur supposedly showing signs of being abusive in the past this is what is called confirmation bias. If you believe someone is abusive suddenly you can find details in the littlest things to confirm your thought process. A lot of the clips I've been seeing have been of normal everyday behavior or confirmed bits. I've seen people say that Wilbur must have bit down really hard to leave bruises. In some cases people bruise more easily than others. I know I have random bruises on my body from nothing. We can tell that what Wilbur did however was pretty painful due to have to use a safe word. Getting bitten usually hurts. I've been bitten by a 5 year old at work and can't imagine how it would feel to be bitten by a grown man who intentionally bit down hard.

This could be confirmation bias as well, but when looking at the lyrics in Mammalian Sighing Reflex and at the album art it seems to tell the story of a man (Wilbur) who really messed up in a relationship and is feeling the pain from that, and has a lot of regret due to knowing he was the cause of her pain. He poured so much of himself into the album it's like he's bleeding out in front of the audience with the amount of vulnerability.

Analyzing lyrics because why not, using lyrics from "Mammalian Sighing Reflex"

"I get so drunk I can barely see." If this album is related to his relationship with Shelby, which I think it probably is, then maybe he tried to cope with the relationship failing by using alcohol, or sabotaged the relationship through drinking.

"A lot of friends have left my life, escaping my tractor beam of woe" Having a mental illness can make it hard to maintain friendships. This could be because it makes you so self-focused on your problems, or that people get tired of hearing about your problems. If you constantly talk about how sad you are, some people are going to have a hard time dealing with that, or get burnt out from having to keep on cheering you up.

"Fuck my life, you cared when I was sick, no one ever gave a shit.....you fought this war one-sided and asked me what am I doing this for." These lyrics seem to speak about how in a past relationship (probably meaning with Shelby), that she cared that he was mentally ill/in a low point and wanted to help him get better. The fight to help him get better was one-sided due to Wilbur not helping to get himself better. If he would have helped her then they "could of stitched my mind together."

"Never been the one for romance, never thought that I'd get married. Never been the kind to give a shared life a second glance, selfish prose." In Shelby's livestream she talked about how her and Wilbur talked about the possibility of getting married and having kids until he backtracked and said that he wasn't that way and changed his mind.

The song "I Don't Think It Will Ever End" is how his mind seems to work in cycles. He'll be sad, because he feels sad he hides away for a bit, but then he feels silly for hiding himself so he forces himself to interact with people. But then when forcing himself to interact again he feels sad, which he says is not a good feeling when you're supposedly in a good phase. He says as self-sabotage he gets silly. Wilbur is known for telling a lot of jokes, and maybe this is a way he masks his true feelings. Also for Mammalian Sighing Reflex it says the songs were written by William Gold (his legal name) and performed by Wilbur Soot (his stage name). Wilbur is who the internet/fans see him as and William Gold is who he really is. Meaning the way we see him online is the extroverted, charismatic, likeable guy we know him as whereas William Gold is introverted, self-sabotaging, nerdy, and a deep thinker.

     The internet gives us way too much information. We're constantly bombarded with more and more information. Before the internet and even in the earlier internet days you did not have this. People were not being as closely viewed and known as they are now. You have to be careful about every little thing you say, because God forbid you say the wrong thing and get canceled. It didn't used to be this way. The only reason you'd ever know anything bad about a celebrity is if they were in the news. I think most of the media we consume whether TV shows, movies, etc. have the potential to have us supporting "bad people". It would be overwhelming to look up every single person we had ever consumed media from and sift through what are lies and what are not about each actor, singer, etc. I get that people don't want to give a platform to people doing bad things, but it's almost impossible to know and to remove every single bad person from the content you consume.  Being a celebrity in general is hard. It's easy to become addicted to drugs, and experience toxicity especially celebrities that live in Los Angeles. Most become people they regret, but some change for the better too. I'm not saying people who do serious crimes should get out of jail because they can become better people. People in jail should remain in jail for serious crimes. Time will tell what becomes of him. If more about him is released or if he's able to actually make strides in his health like he said he would. We will wait and see. I really hope he can heal and get better. Even the most unlikely ones can change their lives. You can both support Shubble and hope that Wilbur gets better.

[strangersteddierthings]

No Regrets - Part Five

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

This beautiful fic cover you see below was made by the fantastic, wonderful and lovely @skepsiss <3 Thanks so much!!! I'm still crying about it.

He jolts backwards, the burning in his chest hurts, it fucking hurts but- but it doesn't? He pulls in a deep, shaking breath and feels no pain.

"Steve?" Nancy asks from off to his right, so he turns to look at her. She looks concerned, and scared in a way he hasn't seen her in years. (Except it's not years, is it? Not anymore, or not right now?) "Are you okay?"

He shakes his head before digging his palms into his eyes. He's dying, dying, dying- he's dead, he has to be. The Storms are so toxic and he-

"Steve," Robin's voice is accompanied by her hands around his wrists. She pulls his hands from his eyes and he lets her. He blinks at her worried face. "Steve, what just happened?"

"I-I was. I think... give me a moment" Steve says. Robin nods once, a confirmation, but she doesn't move away or release his wrists.

He pulls in another deep breath and closes his eyes to think. He's trying to remember. He thinks he promised to explain everything after... after Pennhurst? Yes, he remembers. Promised that after Robin and Nancy got back from their trip to Pennhurst, he'd tell them everything he knows. It's... it is after, now.

It was yesterday that Robin and Nancy went to Pennhurst and spoke to Creel. They learned about Creel, and the music. They still got found out as fakes; Steve didn't remember what caused them to be discovered last time to be able to warn them against it this time.

He still ended up being bullied into driving Max around. This time, though, he already had an hour-long loop of Running Up That Hill in his car. They'd let Max go to speak to Billy alone, like last time. The boys paced around the car and this time, when they realize that Max isn't responding, Steve's already loading the tape into the cassette player. He shoves it into Lukas's hands and tells him to put it on Max, press play, and to not stop begging her to come back until she is.

Steve saw he had questions, but Max was more important. She floated, and fell, and Lucas had caught her. Then...?

Oh, right. Then, he did explain, yesterday evening, after everyone had crowded into the Wheeler's basement. Went over Vecna winning, Hawkins becoming ground zero for the apocalypse. Talks about a future with a lot of loss, but won't say who, as well as the slow decay of the air and earth. That you could breathe the air for small moments of time, but long exposure would make you sick. That even though they'd finally killed Vecna in 1989, too much damage had been done, too many gates opened, kept opening with every new death by demo-creature. El alone would never be able to close off all the gates. They were working on trying to create a reverse of the machine below Starcourt, meant to close gates instead of open, but the world would probably be a complete wasteland before they could complete it.

No one had reacted well to the news, but the yelling was a minimum, which had been a pleasant surprise.

In the end, Steve had told them they needed more people, more help. That he was going to tell Wayne about the Upside Down.

He opens his eyes, now, and looks around. The place is small, familiar almost. Wood paneling and- The Munson's home. They're in Eddie's home. Because last night Steve had come over. He'd come over and told Wayne everything because he couldn't do this again. Not alone, not as the only responsible adult.

The Wayne in the future had been so willing to help, when Hawkins ripped open at its seams, and Wayne in the present was the same. He didn't- he didn't even call Steve crazy. He'd said he believed Steve, that some government lady told him they were going to pay for him to be in a hotel since his home was an active crime scene, but Wayne'd refused. Eddie wouldn't know where to call when he got out, and what if he just showed up and Wayne was gone- well, Wayne found that unacceptable.

Now, Wayne should be his way back from Indy in Eddie's recovered van with the Byers and Mike, and they're here waiting on a call from Eddie.

Steve's not dying, or, he's not anymore? Or maybe he is, and this is just. What the end is like? Getting to put an end to your regrets or something.

Whatever. It doesn't really matter what or why or even how. He knows what is in store for the future if they don't stop Vecna today.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm back," Steve says, opening his eyes to look at Robin.

She scrunches her brow. "Back?"

"Back from the future," Steve gives her a lopsided grin and in return she squints at him, leaning in real close to his face like the closer she is the more of his mind she'll be able to read.

"You're a different Steve. Again."

"What?" Nancy asks.

"Again?" Steve asks.

Robin scrutinizes his face some more before backing off, just a few inches. "Yeah. It was- Saturday, when you just walked out of our shift after Dustin and Max showed up, you were different then. Not. It was- you know how we were just talking about how if only we could combine, our love life problems would be fixed?"

Steve does, but only after having to think about it for a moment. It was so long ago, but it wasn't. Not for the Steve he's replaced, not for Robin in front of him. "Yeah. I remember."

"It's like I didn't realize how much we'd already combined until we weren't anymore. It was like... like you were a completely different person. I thought it was just, maybe, a reaction to learning the Upside Down was back. But you got different. More haunted."

"You noticed a difference?"

Robin scoffs, "of course I did. You're you but it was. This whole week it's been like... each day brings a new you. With different quirks. Except yesterday was still all the same old-new you so I thought- I thought maybe we'd succeeded. Fixed whatever it was that needed changed because you hadn't changed. But we haven't yet. 'Cause you're back."

Steve shakes his head. "No. No, we haven't. But this time- we'll have the manpower."

"No, I mean, I just-" Robin huffs, falling back onto her butt rather than staying in an uncomfortable crouch. "I just noticed, is all."

"Are we making it better," Nancy asks, "or worse?"

Steve looks from Robin to Nancy. "I-I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know. I don't- I don't know what we've changed. Or if it's been for the better. Because I don't remember."

"Oh," Nancy says with a nod, the look on her face morphing to one Steve knows means she's working out the puzzle of it all. He'll leave her to it.

His attention turns back to Robin, who has her head tipped back, looking at the unopened gate on the roof of the trailer. It definitely cannot be mistaken for water damage anymore. "What are you thinking about?"

Robin tips her head back down to look at Steve. "Exactly that."

"What?"

"Sorry," she says with a frown, "I was just thinking about how we can't- we don't really read each other's minds anymore. I know we should be worrying more about the end of the world but I'm just, just being selfish. Worrying about our friendship."

"You are the only constant in my life, Robin Buckley," Steve confesses, a fierceness to his tone he doesn't even recognize. "You have been, and always will be, the person I need in my life to bother even living it. I swear to God, Robbie, that if anything ever happens to you, I will walk into traffic."

Robin lets out a laugh. "That's a bit extreme."

Steve shoots Nancy a look; he can see she's in her own world. He stands then, offering a hand to Robin to pull her up. "Come on. I have something to tell you. A soulmate secret."

Robin's eyes light up with delight and he pulls her from the ground before leading her to the only place they can get privacy. Eddie's room.

It's two steps into the room that Steve realizes he's never seen Eddie's room before. Or, if he had, the memory of it is lost with the time line it happened in. In Steve's memory, the front half of Eddie's home gets obliterated, and when Eddie and Wayne went back to gather the things that survived the gate opening, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas had gone with the help pack it up. Steve had been helping fortify the high school.

It seems ridiculous, to be hit with the thought of never having seen Eddie's room, with the threat of the apocalypse still looming.

"Alright, secret time," Robin sounds delighted, and her voice pulls him from his thoughts. She shuts the door and turns, eyeing the bed skeptically. "Hmm, standing room only I think."

Steve huffs out a laugh as he takes in the mess of a room, a room that looks lived in and shows Eddie's personality and the things he cares about. Nothing at all like his own room at the Harrington house; perfectly clean and matching and devoid of anything distinctly Steve. "Like you ever make your bed."

The noise Robin makes is clearly offended, and she smacks his arm lightly with the back of her hand, "uncalled for! Unprovoked, even!"

"Yeah, well, you're judging a guy who's been in jail this past 48-ish hours. Not like he had time to tidy up," Steve says.

"I think the state of his bed -whole room, really- is not because he didn't come home to clean up. In fact, I think he just lives like this."

"At least his room looks lived in. I mean, look at all of this on the walls. You think he drew these?" Steve says, hand reach out to brush against a drawing tacked to the wall nearest him.

"Your room could look lived in, too, if you weren't afraid of a few tack holes," Robin replies, crossing the room. Steve watches her go, approaching the mirror and the guitar mounted in front of it. She examines the guitar before picking up the red yoyo atop the amp.

"And here you were worried about not being able to read my mind anymore."

She turns to him and gives him a quick, genuine smile before turning her attention back to the yoyo. "So, what's the soulmate secret? You really good with a yoyo?"

"What? No. I didn't even know that was in here," Steve says.

"I thought you knew the future," Robin teases as she gets the yoyo to successfully fling from her palm and back into her grasp. She makes a little pleased noise before she creeps around the room, gawking at all of Eddie's things.

"I know one, specific future that we are trying to change, if you'll remember. I didn't know you could yoyo."

"Neither did I- oh my God, there's an Alf costume in his closet!"

"A what- no, nevermind. You can snoop and-"

"I'm not a snoop."

"-and listen as the same time, so I just. I'm gonna say something and please know that I have had five years to figure this all out, and also know that the apocalypse has a way of putting things into perspective."

"Mhmm," Robin hums an acknowledgement as she moves back to where she picked up the yoyo. "Why does he have a pepper shaker in his room?"

Steve ignores her, choosing to believe that was just her thinking out loud and not actually asking him. "Actually, the apocalypse was full of surprises. And I mean, beyond the surprises one might expect. Like, so many of our old teachers are survival experts. Did you ever have Mr. Clark, that guy- wait, no. I had something I wanted to tell you."

The phone starts ringing in the living room. Nancy's out there, though, so neither of them move to the door.

"Anyway, this feels so... why am I so nervous about this? I mean, I've already told you once, but, uh, I. I'm a little worried, scared?"

"Hey, whoa," Robin has dropped her investigation and turned fully back to Steve. "What is it?"

"I like Eddie," Steve blurts, needing to get the words out. "I like Eddie, and I died so now I think this is my only shot, like last last shot but I don't even know if he'll still like me back and I'm, like, ridiculously nervous to see him because, and this is the soulmate secret part because-"

"Whoa, what, what!!? Did you just say died?"

"- you cannot tell anyone, but I'm the reason he's been in jail. I called Hawkins PD and told them where they could find Eddie, 'cause if he was in jail then he couldn't be blamed for Fred's murder, but I've never had to fess up to that because, like, Hawkins exploding and life becoming an actual nightmare for years made it not important. Like, what's a criminal record in the face of no surviving government?"

Robin is staring at him, eyes wide and face slightly pale and it's now that Steve thinks that, maybe, he's not doing as well with everything as he thought he might be.

"Am I... okay?" Steve asks himself out loud, and that has Robin throwing herself across the room to clutch at Steve, drag him into a crushing hug. He hugs back, trembling and finding it hard to breath.

"No, no I don't think you are," Robin whispers, squeezing tight.

"Hey, that was- oh!" Nancy says as she flings the bedroom door open. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"It's just a hug," Robin says.

"Right. Umm, the phone was Officer Callahan. We can go pick up Eddie."

"Right," Steve says, pulling away from the hug and pulling himself together. He can have his mental break down tomorrow. "Let's go get Eddie."

Provided if that, this time when he closes his eyes to rest, he'll wake up here and not. Well, either in the future or not at all.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @a-little-unsteddie @sevenmerrymagpies @steviesummer @queenie-ofthe-void @mycatsstolemybiscuit @lololol-1234 @synonym-for-strange @tchackdaw

[wildwinterlunas]

Ok I want to talk about Genji seeing Cassidy as a brother because I do think this has importance to Genji's arc. Specifically in Genji's journey in forgiving Hanzo and him realizing that not only Hanzo, but Cassidy too, have gone through a lot more then Genji himself realized at the time.

Let's start off with Hanzo, now it's no secret that Hanzo and Genji weren't close, especially later in life, but something I think is forgotten is that Genji was very unaware of what Hanzo was doing, how he felt and what he was going through. We see this in a few of their interactions;

Genji and Hazno, though they came from the same family, are from two very different worlds. Even after the amount of help Genji has gotten, when it comes to Hanzo he still seems to struggle a bit with understanding certain aspects of their past.

And though we don't see this shown at it's extreme with Hanzo, we do see it with Cassidy;

The first quote shows us that at the time Genji didn't really understand why Cassidy was upset, and when given an explanation (though simplified) he still didn't really empathize. Then the second one needs a bit more digging, see the first time we see Cassidy smoking in canon is in the Retribution after the Oslo attack and presumably after Liao death. After a traumatic incident. Now this may seem inconsequential but here's the thing, we see Cassidy and Genji banter in Retribution and we also see other characters be mentioned, so why would Genji not make a quip about Cassidy smoking if he had done it for awhile, or at the very least not mention at any point that Angela wanted him to stop.

To me the second quote from Storm Rising is Genji talking about a more recent development, or at the very least Cassidy smoking more frequently after Retribution (I don't blame him).

Now this isn't to blame Genji, during his time with both Hanzo and Cassidy he was going through his own issues, but it is important to note because Genji probably only realized what Cassidy was going through while he was with Zenyatta. Which would have lead him to think about other things he missed. Like the presure that Hanzo was under, the things about Hanzo that he missed before.

This point is even furthered by Genji seeing Cassidy as a brother because imagine the guilt he felt?

Imagine realizing you made the same mistake twice but with the second time you don't hold that same anger towards the person?

It also seems that Genji never really showed how much Cassidy really meant to him back during the first Overwatch. We also see that Genji takes a similar tone with Cassidy as he does with Hanzo, except with Cassidy it isn't just a short conversation but Genji seemingly wanting to help Cassidy deal with some of his issues and rectifying the mistake Genji made in the past.

And I honestly like the contrast this gives to the dynamic presented between Genji and Hanzo. From what I've found Genji and Hanzo only really have quick two line interactions, not only that but there more statements then Genji trying to help Hanzo through his issues.

And honestly I like this more then the common take of Genji being the one to help Hanzo through his issues, because Genji shouldn't have to. Yes Genji didn't notice the pain Hanzo was in, but Hanzo tried to kill Genji. It shouldn't be Genji's responsibility to help Hanzo. It's honestly why I like that Hanzo and Kiriko are being paired up more, Hanzo still does need someone to help him and it can't really be anyone new to him, so Kiriko is probably the best option.

Any way that's a little tangent from me today!

[irksomeartie]

well since i'm not likely to be posting anything new to ao3 for at least a couple weeks figured i might as well drop some sneaky previews here. so have a bunch of zero-context snippets from my several ongoing projects, in random order! i am not going to say which bits belong to which projects.

(under the cut for some suggestive content)

---

He’d really thought they had a good thing going. There was just something between them that instantly clicked, something that made them a great match. Maybe it was similar artistic sensibilities, or Rico appreciating Hawk’s wild lack of restraint when it came to tattoos.

Or perhaps it had been because when Hawk first wandered into Rico’s studio, a fresh-faced sixteen-year-old still getting used to his new persona, the man took one look at his – in hindsight honestly pretty shoddy – fake ID, immediately clocked it for what it was, then shrugged and pulled out the tattoo gun no questions asked except what he wanted and where he wanted it.

Hawk could respect a guy like that.

---

It was fucked up, but he had absolute confidence that he was probably the only person in the world who could get away with smacking Eli’s hand away when it reached for the bottle again and get a response no more threatening than an aggrieved, hissing kitten. All intimidating show, but claws too small and weak to do any real damage.

---

It wasn’t like he was going to be able to fight someone off in his condition, he couldn’t even sit up by himself, all he could do was just hope they didn’t take anything too expensive. Not that he actually owned anything that valuable. Maybe his laptop, it was a cheap, old model but presumably it was worth something right? But that was going to be a bitch to replace, more for the hard drive than anything else, all those work files he didn’t have backups for…

Actually, yeah, he really couldn’t lose that. Groaning and taking a deep breath, he was preparing to shout that they could take whatever else they liked but for the love of God please leave the laptop – or at least remove the hard drive and they could take the rest – when the intruder called out instead.

---

And her enthusiasm was infectious, even if he didn’t understand half of what she was talking about.

“-and then we made a blood sacrifice to Mother Earth, gifting her the unworthy flesh of an oil company CEO to satiate her desire for vengeance against humanity.”

His thoughts crashed to a halt as his brain caught up with the words coming out of Moon’s mouth. “Wait, what?”

---

Eli’s hands slowly pulled away from his back, fingers pressing into one last knot at the base of his spine as they left, leaving Miguel loose and relaxed and remarkably pain-free for once. It was rare he got to enjoy quiet, peaceful moments like this, so he was ready to fall asleep there and then, and he probably would have if Eli hadn’t chosen that moment to bring his hands back into play.

They landed with a nice firm smack.

Not against his back.

Unable to bite back his surprised grunt, Miguel opened his eyes and glared at the headboard, refusing to turn around and give his boyfriend the satisfaction of seeing the blush undoubtedly colouring his cheeks. “Carry a lot of tension in my ass, do I?”

---

Lightly smacking Hawk’s arm, Miguel couldn’t help laughing, even as he hoped his blush wasn’t too obvious. “Shut up, man, I just don’t like touching my eyes- no, stop that, fuck off!”

He turned his head away, but Hawk was persistently leaning into his line of sight with the most obnoxious grin and his finger hovering dangerously close to his own unblinking eye. “What, I’m just demonstrating-”

“Stop!” Grabbing Hawk’s hand and dragging it down to the desk where it was safely out of eye-poking range, Miguel took the opportunity to glare at him darkly. “Jesus, you know that shit freaks me out.”

---

He could already feel the judgement in Demetri’s unconvinced side-eye and the long, low hum he was drawing out to an unnecessary degree, he didn’t need him finding out just how deeply fucked Eli was – wanted to be-

No! Not going there!

---

Seeing the look on his face, Robby snorted and quickly explained, “He’s determined to take Ella to her first big rock festival, but he didn’t plan ahead so now he’s picking fights with scalpers trying to get tickets before next week-” Miguel snickered and muttered that that sounded about right under his breath “-he also said he’d be borrowing your wheelchair if he doesn’t get them. Something about trying the ‘make-a-wish trick’ again?”

Smacking a hand into his face, Miguel groaned and rubbed at his eyes harshly, trying and failing not to laugh. “I swear to God…”

---

Honestly, even if he wasn’t having the best sex of his life he probably would have kept this arrangement going purely for the access it gave him to Hawk’s shower.

Truly, the rich just lived differently.

---

He shrugged, stealing the last slice of barely-browned toast – plain, because Hawk was the kind of freak who thought that dry toast was an acceptable meal – from his friend’s plate. “I’ve had worse,” he said, before taking a deeply unsatisfying mouthful and chewing listlessly.

---

Hawk’s confidence was as hard and dazzling as diamond; flashy, deceptively deep, nearly impossible to scratch or chip. But, like a diamond, it was brittle.

Hit him in just the right spot and all that confidence would shatter into dust.

---

[rosequart]

really enjoyed the new spiderverse :) the kind of movie that makes me go "damn i love movies"

my initial non-spoilery thoughts

loooved everything about the opening sequence. gwen's watercolor world is so responsive to her state of mind, transitioning from pastels to darker shades to more water-drippy and impressionistic

the web-slinging/swinging sequences are so fucking cool. just watching miles move through the city is beautiful—the effortless way in which their bodies move along with the camera, the way the web looks; spiderman has never looked better. you just cannot do this shit in live action.

i never got tired or exhausted by the visuals (maybe except until the fight sequence on the rocket/vertical train thing, but that's more action scene fatigue) which shows how well the movie is visually paced

in clumsier hands the self-referential humor ("villain of the week") and multiverse explaining ("canon events") would've been such a pain, but it's implemented really well. they clearly know when to be comedic vs. serious. no "that happened"s here!

i think the first half of the movie is much better paced and themed—i really enjoyed the family drama and miles and gwen just hanging out. once they reach the spiderpeople HQ it starts to feel bloated

more plot/spoilery stuff under the cut

it's hard to discuss the themes because it's half of a movie—luckily i went in knowing that, i would've been upset if i didn't know beforehand lol

the vulture at the beginning was very cool. i want to see his leonardo da vinci world

fucking love the spot. a villain who desperately wants to be taken seriously paired with a hero who quips and doesn't give him the time of day, driving him further down the villain path. great stuff

the only live action bit i liked was with the convenience store lady from the venom movies...otherwise it was pretty jarring. i do not need to see crying andrew garfield in my animated spiderman movie

i was happy to see peni :) her characterization and design was one of the more disappointing things about the first movie so i'm hoping her larger role in the third installment will be more in the vein of edgy mech anime/NGE

the slow realization that miles ended up in the wrong universe was soooo good i felt so smart and shocked when it happened. "what's comicscon" indeed

this movie had like 5 different endings lol

the actual ending rubbed me the wrong way in the implication that a world without spiderman (read: law enforcement) devolves into Crime and Anarchy and i get that it's an easy way to mark the universe as The Bad Timeline but it still sucks imo.

...which is a weird contrast to the spider society where they're clearly doing a "miguel's strict law enforcement is harming him and everyone around him" thing but i guess the movie is just going along with the age-old good cop myth. also hated the direct comparison between the spider mask and a cop badge. overall i think the movie's stance on cops and law enforcement is a clear attempt at having their cake and eating it too (especially noticeable with spiderpunk's existence). unfortunately that's probably par for the course for spiderman stories and superhero narratives at large

so interested in what they'll do with prowler-miles. i'm hoping he has an important role in the next one

for me this movie really disproves the idea of superhero/multiverse fatigue

hope all the artists who worked on this get a nice and long vacation. because my god.

[nerdanelschildren]

A White Fire Within

(based on this post, because my brain would not let me rest)

~

Maedhros had lost track of how long he hung on Thangorodrim. It could have been days, weeks, months... he would not know. He knew nothing anymore except the sharp agonizing pain in his arm and the ache of hunger and thirst. With each passing moment, he wondered how many more moments like this he would have to endure before the darkness took him.

And then he felt something else. Something new. A presence near him, in front of him, watching him. It did not feel like Morgoth. It had less cruelty than that, less desire to see him suffer. It had more of a commonality, like a kindred spirit of some kind.

Maedhros blinked in surprise as he realized it felt fatherly.

The spirit floated in front of him, burning like a white fire. It had no distinct shape, but he knew who it had to be.

"A-atar?" he said. Or rather, tried to say. His throat was too parched for words.

Nelyafinwë, his father's voice answered in his mind. This is not over yet. You are not allowed to give up.

What do you want from me? Maedhros thought then. He directed this thought more specifically toward Fëanor. Although he had never used osanwë with a ghost before, he decided it was probably a similar concept.

I want you to live, said Fëanor. I want you to exact vengeance on he who has wronged us. I want you to persevere, and lead my armies - your armies now, since I am dead - against Morgoth Bauglir the Dark Vala, and I want you to keep going until he has surrendered that which he stole from us. But you knew this already, Nelyafinwë.

Maedhros groaned. Atar, look at me. How can I do any of that from here? It's over already. I lost.

If you give up, then yes, you have, Fëanor said.

Maedhros was quiet for a long time. He tried coming up with a response to that, and he could not think of anything, so he just closed his eyes and tried his hardest to ignore his situation. The fact that his father's ghost seemed to have shown up just to criticize him at his lowest point just felt like adding insult to injury, and he did not want to face it at the moment.

His body spasmed in pain and he flinched involuntarily. Then he sighed.

Atar... I am dying, he said. I can feel it. This is more than just despair, this is... I have been too badly injured and I have gotten no relief. I am beyond hunger. I cannot speak for thirst. I do not know how much longer I can carry on like this. After a moment, he added, I am sorry.

To his surprise, when Fëanor's voice returned, it sounded softer.

I know, Fëanor said. I am trying to offer you what small relief I can.

Maedhros blinked, in confusion this time. ... What?

I am nothing but a fragment of a fëa now, Fëanor explained. I refuse the call to Mandos, for I will not be held imprisoned behind cold walls while my sons carry on the war against our enemy. Still, I would rather not float around Beleriand as a useless spectral flame, and I would rather not see my eldest son die, not when he has so much potential yet to fulfill. Not when a part of my spirit may energize him again. Give him the strength he needs to hold out.

It took Maedhros a while to comprehend what his father was suggesting, but once he did, he stared.

You want to fuse your spirit with mine?

It would save your life, Fëanor answered.

But... What was he going to say? "But that's never been done before?" Creating the Silmarils had never been done before either. "But you might cease to exist?" Fëanor was already dead, and if he truly refused the call of Mandos as he said he did, this remnant of him would fade out of the world eventually.

Why? Maedhros asked finally.

Because you are my son, Fëanor answered. He sounded confused about why that was a question.

Years earlier, Maedhros would probably have looked for some kind of ulterior motive. Only minutes earlier, Maedhros would have argued that there was no point, since he was still chained to Thangorodrim and unlikely to free himself, and his brothers unlikely to be able to rescue him. But in that moment, Maedhros realized that he had been aching to hear exactly this: that Fëanor cared about him simply because he was Fëanor's son. In that moment, Maedhros suddenly wanted nothing more than to embrace his father and ignore everything else in the world.

Oh Eru, he had been so alone for so long.

Alright, he said through their osanwë link. What have I got to lose?

[throes-of-redemption]

"hey you": a submission to a departed blog

You'll never see this. You'll never post this. Unless they have Tumblr in whichever realm you exist in now.

I have regrets. The last time we spoke I was dismissive. I honestly didn't think it would be the last time we'd run into each other after a long absence. Well, it wasn't the first time either. But before then I was convinced I'd never hear or see you again. I was wrong twice. Fuck.

Anyway, since we last spoke I've felt like been an asshole. A selfish pervert with bad habits and boundary issues. It's disgusting.

At first, my decision to leave you alone was to protect my emotions.  We've already talked about it, but it was impossible to settle for just being friends. It was painful. You deserved better-so much better than me tbh. In retrospect, I wonder if you were trying to protect your friends from the heartache of your sudden loss. I suppose I felt justified in letting you go. I finally found someone to fill the void that you were never meant to fill (see, that already sounds dumb as hell cause people aren't responsible for filling each other's vacancies). Besides, reigniting our friendship might have caused unnecessary drama in my current relationship. Nonetheless, it felt right. 

Now that you're not here anymore it feels like I miss you a bit more all the time. I miss your new obsessions every month, and the way your eyes light up whenever you talk about some fictional character in some obscure piece of media only nerds like you know about. Shit, I logged back into Tumblr for the first time in like 6 years, and in less than 3 days I'm here scrolling through your blog checking out the last things you posted. I miss your queer fanfics and head canons. I miss the eloquent way you spoke when you read. I miss you tryna bake, even though I would sit there and eat them burnt cookies. I miss bickering about Star Wars v Harry Potter. I miss you teasing me about my cishet masculine insecurities. I miss the way you stood firmly against injustice and oppression, particularly your arch nemesis the fuckin patriarchy! I miss how you really didn't give a damn how anyone saw you or tried to squeeze you into their little box. I miss how you would drive people nuts just being yourself. I miss how loving you were even when you tried to hide it from the world sometimes. 

Remember that one time you spotted me on the bus all zoned out, and you sat right next to me and forced me to practice our lines for that play we were in? I was annoyed and happy at the same time lol. This year I did 4 plays. First one I did was HAIR up in Harrison, and you would've loved some of my cast mates. At one point we had a recasting...um..."crisis" to find a new Dionne. I couldn't think of anyone else but you. Except you'd already been gone for some eight months by then. That almost broke me. Oh! And one of them was this bizarre musical parody of Hamlet (I was hamlet btw). It made me think about hearing how you were such a talented Lady Macbeth in high school that the production was requested at Purchase Collage. So whenever I prepared to step on that stage, I thought to myself secretly "I hope she's watching and I hope she's proud." Honestly I felt that way for every show, but that's the one I wish you could've seen.

When you left it seemed like all of Mount Vernon came to see you go, probably a lot of people you didn't even like. But as each person got up to talk about their favorite memories of you, I realized as much as we talked and hung out, all I ever experienced of you was just a fragment of who you were. And I always knew you had heart issues, but I didn't realize just how sick you really were because you were so fiercely independent and full of life despite it all. As we left, my friend asked me how I thought I could honor your memory. I told him "By doing everything with as much passion and energy and purpose as she did." 

The problem is that when I had an opportunity to be friends again, I took you for granted. There was only one of you. Anybody similar to you by comparison was a bootleg with missing pieces. You were the genuine article: the Real Deal. I'll be processing the guilt of how things ended for quite a while longer than I should. I don't know if you were upset or indifferent, or if there's any slight that you held against me after we parted ways for the last time. But I hope, if it's okay with you, that I could take part of you with me in my journey through life.

You are missed, and you are loved.

Beloved (11/18/1993-6/21/2023)