#how is this supposed to be the best series

[xinganhao]

a peek into the process that was making catch you when i can.

(1) vernon x rockstar!reader was largely unnamed for the most part. i only figured that it at least deserves a title when i revamped the series masterlist, but the answer was pretty instant.

i start (and end) the story with vernon and reader saying a variation of 'catch you when i can', which is established in part one as "something exchanged as often as 'i love you'." i feel like it captures the struggles of a long-distance relationship very well. it's also a shameless reference to the iconic leonardo di caprio and tom hanks film lol:

(2) this wasn't supposed to be a series, honestly. part two was my attempt to cope with svt's new york shows, and i was convinced that i would end it with the cliffhanger of rockstar!reader accidentally posting vernon on her main instagram. but the verse just wouldn't let me go— hence, the full-blown smau.

(3) the 'vernhow' style headcanons for part three are probably my favorite style of headcanons not only for this series, but also my entire blog. getting to play around with it was so fun. buried in it is the crux of what would eventually be the ending: "Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe."

(4) when i first referenced john mayer's Edge of Desire in part three, i wasn't quite thinking of his 2010 hollywood bowl performance just yet.

i revisited it when i was facing intense writer's block for the final chapter and everything flowed easily after that. part five is best read with that version of the song playing (linked as suggested listening lol) because i wrote nearly the entire thing while looping the track.

↳ this part in the song reminded me of how part four's headcanons were entirely about vernon's definition of 'fight', and how— despite his willingness to keep going with the relationship— it's ultimately a two-way street. it doesn't matter how much one tries. if, at the end of the day, the two of you aren't in it together? then the relationship will end. plain, simple, harsh.

↳ in the first part, the headcanons touch on vernon not being a big believer in "long-distance relationships or relationships in general," which all completely change after he starts dating reader. the real clincher, though, is how vernon spends much of part five being a 'terrible' ex: unable to go without contact, still supportive as ever. as the song goes: he's scared you'll forget about him.

(5) part five intentionally uses the first nine or so panels from an outsider's perspective. i wanted to really drive home the struggle of their public relationship and how it might have taken its toll/strain on the couple. it's what eventually inspired the brief headcanons, ala-he said, she said.

(6) i almost made vernon specifically reference romcoms with airport reunions in the finale, but i didn't want to isolate readers who might have not seen said films lol. the movies that would have been referenced were love actually (2003) and serendipity (2001).

(7) my top three panels in no particular order are—

was obsessed with a panicked vernon going "my gorgeous princess wife babygirl" + very characteristic of him to suddenly swoon when one of his favorite bands is brought up + something about vernon wanting a do-over on his 'hard launch' is just. #real.

(8) Black Eye is first mentioned in a part two headcanon where reader performs it in a speakeasy in front of vernon. it's posed as the moment that vernon realized he might he in love.

this makes it all the more cruel how reader unwittingly jokes that Black Eye is a breakup song in part five. i chose to conclude the series on the track's anniversary for no other reason than me needing a specific deadline to wrap stuff up lol.

(8.1) i think i do recall having some of Black Eye bleed into the work, which might be evident in the following lyrics & consequent story parallels:

running 'round the whole city looking for someone -> ties in to part two, where the headcanons are based on how vernon and reader feel about new york city i can't stand the quiet/is anyone out there? is anyone out there? -> best encapsulated in how vernon continues to contact reader post-break up (also parallels mayer's 'i'm scared you'll forget about me') i'm on my worst behavior, don't stop me now -> in part four, vernon gets into a physical altercation with the press in defense of reader and he's adamant that he did the right thing i'm okay, i'll just let it burn around me -> best captures vernon in part five + another parallel to mayer, where a part in the song goes 'i'm just about to set fire to everything i see'

(9) ending this with what i anticipate to be part of the faqs, post-main story: why did vernon and reader break up just to get back together again?

the long answer: because people are messy. because we think we know best— for ourselves, for others— and so we act on those impulses in the name of self-preservation, or care, or whatever noble thing you want to call it. people are complex and complicated, and with that comes regret, romance, and everything in between.

"they should have just worked it out!" they did try. it's human nature to feel slighted when things don't work out in your favor. there's only so much tenacity that a person can have before they're cursing the universe for the cards they're dealt, so can vernon/reader really be blamed for fraying?

"the breakup was unnecessary!" i could argue that it isn't. say some bs about it being very necessary, in fact, for character development, plot progression (lol), 'not realizing what you have until it's gone'. the works. but admittedly? i agree.

we— vernon and reader included— make questionable choices. whether or not we double down, move on, or circle back is an entirely different story in itself. vernon and reader found their way back; not all of us are as lucky. but some of us can be, some of us have been, and that was enough for me to trust that the story would sail.

the knowledge that, at the end of the day, the love that 'wins' is the one that makes the work worth it.

the short answer: i just really wanted them to have a happy ending. god knows they deserve it.

thank you for reading and enjoying this little story! it was mine once, but it's all yours now. ❥

catch you when i can (vernon x reader)

⤿ a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar.

𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 —

✮ part one, the one with the origin story. ✮ part two, the one where vernon tours in your city. ✮ part three, the one where you go public. ✮ part four, the one about fighting. ✮ part five, the one where a choice has to be made.

ⓘ international rockstar!f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, use of pet names. fluff, angst. cussing.

annotations for the main verse.

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 —

there's nothing here yet! :)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

with love, kae ✎ i adore this verse so, so much that asks (i.e. drabbles, headcanons, smaus) for it will be perpetually open, regardless of whether or not my main requests are open. as always, this wouldn't have come to light without the anon who asked for it in the first place! i'm eternally indebted.

thank you for reading catch you when i can. <3

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (01) all i had

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam

masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

the wind was howling.

your bag felt heavy on your shoulders as you brisked through the night, flickering street lights as your only source of light. your phone died a while back, but it's fine since you knew every nook and cranny of the route from your workplace back to your aunt's apartment. 

you've had a pretty shitty day so far: customers yelling in your face about things out of your control, your bicycle getting stolen (again) rendering you having to travel back on foot, and on top of that, you have exams coming up this week.

all you could let out was a tired sigh while trying to revise the material under your breath.

just as you're about to turn the knob of the apartment door, looking forward to finally getting some sleep before having to drag yourself to school that starts in a few hours, the door swings open violently and you stumble back, startled. the sight of your aunt gripping the door while holding a broken bottle greets you as she stands there with an unsettling and wild look in her eyes, her tone final.

“get in the car, now.”

sitting in gotham’s police department with the background noise feels distant, everything is incoherent, too much noise, too much light, just too much.

you feel hollow.

can’t wrap your head around the series of events that had just occurred, alternating between gnawing your lips and picking your fingers, the chatter zoned in and out as you just sat there, not knowing what was to come.

you don’t know how long you've sat there while the police were making phone calls and running through their data records of you after taking multiple different samples 2 days ago in order to decide where they should toss you to next. you’ve been placed under watch just so they could make sure there were no complications from the injuries you sustained, practically living in the station. it wasn’t that bad, the GCPD was well-insulated, safe, and you’re given food to eat for free (not that you can taste anything). it’s much better than being left to fend for yourself in the streets.

you know you should be planning on what to do next, but your brain feels like tv static, nothing making sense. you had worked so hard despite the circumstances you were in, tried to make the best out of the shitty cards dealt. you weren’t happy, but you were in control, you had a plan. work hard, save up, get a degree and move the fuck out of this godforsaken city. start over.

staring at the ground, a pair of shoes enters your vision.

“your labs came back, we got your DNA results.”

this was not what you had in mind.

you’ve never been in a car this luxurious before. the man who introduced himself as alfred, the wayne’s family butler, your father's butler, was seated in the front driving to your supposed new home. you stare outside, gaze unfocused, arms cradling your backpack close to your chest - your entire life in it: your school supplies and a few other personal items, while the rest remains at your aunt’s apartment - that is currently taped off by police and under investigation. eyes trained on the passing view outside, you feel bad for alfred who’s tried to strike up conversation to get to know you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to elaborate on your short responses. you hope he doesn’t take it too personally.

before you knew it, the car rolled to a stop outside the wayne manor. grabbing your bag, you trail behind the butler, the feeling of dread suddenly consumes your entire being.

“i do apologize for the absence of master bruce, young miss. i’m certain if he weren’t caught up with this current case, you would've received a personal welcome from your father himself", he gave you an apologetic smile.

you nodded in response, not really processing his words despite the tiny feeling of disappointment felt as you step foot into the grand yet empty manor. your presence a stark contrast to the fancy room you've entered.

however, you do look forward to seeing your new family: your father and siblings that alfred mentioned in brief, insisting for you to get to know them yourself while singing them high praises.

maybe this was the start over you needed. maybe you'll finally know what it's like to be loved.

you should've known then.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you're tired, so very tired.

you're done.

nothing feels worth it anymore.

you don't have it in you to continue.

feet dangling off the crumbling abandoned building, you feel oddly at peace. everything is quiet. everything feels right, no responsibilities, no burdens, no more. you've decided.

for once in your life, you feel assured, this is the most optimal solution.

for once in your life, you're looking forward to something.

death must be so peaceful, lay buried within the earth, surrounded by silence. no yesterday, no today, no tomorrow. forget time, forgive life.

you'd be no more.

the wind is howling.

you stand up, staring down the steep drop. standing tall, unafraid, certain.

everything was quiet.

you're ready.

you shuffle closer to the edge, one foot hovering off as you will your other foot to do the same, fighting against your body's survival instinct. you're finally doing something for yourself.

"that's a big drop."

you stumble forward in surprise, nearly falling off until a hand grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you back further from the edge. you're stunned speechless, turning to see the source of the whistling voice.

"that's pretty ballsy of you, kid, i gotta admit."

this is embarrassing.

still unable to form any response, you let out a strangled noise in return as he let go of your shirt.

why the hell is one of gotham’s vigilante here.

an uncomfortable silence ensues, you don't know what to say, occasionally glancing up at the masked vigilante while you shifted your weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward.

just as you're about to try and weasel your way out of the situation, he beats you to it.

"nice spot! how'd you even get in?"

he asks casually while stretching and looking around. you don't know what to say.

"it's a still a weekday tomorrow , don't you have school? your parents must be worried you're out here."

your aunt is still waiting for you to return with your half of the pay for the rent. you have an assignment due tomorrow that's worth 10% of your final grade. there's nothing to look forward to.

"...i guess?"

now, you're uncertain, not knowing whether he genuinely didn't understand the implications of your actions or trying to lighten the severity of the situation.

he's uncertain.

he doesn't know how to approach this. he's never had to deal with this before.

you can tell by the strained smile and tensed posture that he also doesn't know what to do. somehow, you appreciate it. the situation is somewhat amusing now that you think about it. one of gotham's most dedicated vigilante standing in an abandoned building trying his best to stop a nobody from ending their insignificant life.

you almost let out a chuckle.

the vigilante bends down to pick up your discarded bag that was tossed to the side, handing it to you. you mumble your thanks, grabbing it and swinging it over your shoulders.

hesitantly, he places his hand on your much smaller frame. his voice warm and soft.

"go home. i'm sure someone is waiting for you."

you've waited for a year.

surrounded by the four walls of your assigned bedroom in the more cold, desolated part in the manor. you didn’t really mind, this arrangement was a blessing in disguise as it turned out, or maybe this arrangement was what turned you into the person you’ve become.

you don’t think you’re a great person, but you weren’t bad either, so you don’t understand why no one in the wayne manor would give you their time of day. sure, you were never reduced to begging for life necessities and having to bust your ass off at some sketchy restaurant working under legal age, while also balancing school work - this was objectively a far better environment for a person to live in compared to when you lived with your aunt. 

but was it wrong to want to be noticed by your own family? against your better judgement, you dared to hope.

you hoped to feel the warmth and care of what being tied by blood could grant. you hoped for an embrace, you hoped for company, you hoped for compassion, you hoped for connection. you hope and hope and hope, all you did was hope, until your memory was mostly filled with what you hoped, until you finally understood you were with them yet you were alone.

you had no place in their life.

just like the day you first arrived, bruce wayne, your father, was always busy. a persona to upkeep in the public eye, an enterprise to maintain, and his children to look after, to be a worthy role model.

but not you, never you.

despite alfred’s effort in trying to arrange for you two to get to know each other in the first week, there was never time. you were trying to wrap your head around the drastic changes that happened, from the procedures of transferring  schools, collecting what little belongings you had from the police station after the investigation, and quitting your job. meanwhile, bruce was still busy chasing leads to his case, determined that he was close to solving whatever it was. it took another week for you to stand in front of bruce’s door, wanting to formally introduce yourself and express your gratitude for taking you in, even if he was legally obligated to. when you finally saw him, you dared to hope. standing in front of you was your father, someone who shared your features. you see him, you see yourself. 

you could never forget the look in his eyes.

it was clear he had no idea who your mother was, but it was fine, you didn’t know her either. your desire to get to know him was not returned. was this what having a father is meant to be like? he couldn’t care less about you. all he did was run you through the ground rules of the house, who to go to if you were to request something, to inform him if you needed anything.

you needed him to look at you.

tim drake was the next person you encountered, your slightly older brother. you hoped that with the proximity in age, it would be easier to connect to him. however, it always seemed like he was preoccupied with something more important, he could not even be bothered to pretend to show interest when you had introduced yourself. you felt small, both in the figurative and literal sense. he was undoubtedly intelligent and talented. you’ve seen the way bruce look at him, actually hold a conversation with him. he was deserving, nothing you could measure to. bruce actually looked at him.

why does nobody look at you?

then you ran into jason todd. to your knowledge, he does not primarily reside within the manor anymore, which would explain why you haven’t really seen him around at all. it doesn’t explain why your first encounter with him was assuming a burglar had snuck in through the window at 3 in the morning. you had nearly dropped your cup of coffee, hearing a brief commentary on how there was another caffeine addict in the house before leaving the kitchen with you still holding your breath in shock. you can’t form a solid opinion on him since you barely see him.

especially damian al ghul, your half-brother. you were excited to have a younger blood sibling, not that the others were any less important to you, but merely for the delusion that blood could bring you together.

in stark contrast, you had met richard grayson, or dick. the ever sweetest and most amazing older brother that any younger sibling would dream to have. you do too, seeing how much of a brother he was to the other members of the house, but not to you.

never to you.

you’d like to blame him for blindly hoping for things to be different, with his empty promises when he accidentally runs into you while on his search for someone else, and small talk when he’s waiting for something. you catch your father’s appreciative glances towards him sometimes, when dick helps out with managing your siblings.

blood meant nothing.

damian was introduced after you were brought in, and his last name was promptly changed into wayne. your encounter was different from the others, him being the only one that sought you out first. again, you had hoped. trying to hide your excitement, you had mistakenly thought he was different from the others, your flesh and blood. 

it’s all the same.

damian had berated your existence, bringing up how you were so unworthy of being a wayne you had yet to receive your father’s last name. you stood there listening to everything he had to say. your flesh and blood.

you admired his strong personality and ability to assert what he wanted. you were complete opposites. it’s no surprise that that’s why he was worthy of the last name.he ended up being the one who had interacted with you the most, even if it was mostly him bullying you. secretly, you held him dear, seeing resemblance between damian and your aunt. he was your flesh and blood.

cassandra cain was yet another sibling you falsely assumed having something in common would bring you two closer. but at this point, you no longer had it in you to put effort in forming a connection with anyone else, worn down by the countless times you’ve been casted aside. 

you remain in the shadows, watching them carry on their daily lives, watched the life you had desperately wanted to be part of but found it impossible. you don’t belong with them, you don’t belong anywhere.

their silence made you feel forgettable.

do you even exist if no one remembers you?

the wind is howling.

and so are the voices.

i don't think im a good story teller since i mostly wrote analytical essays ^^' hopefully it makes sense like who let them (me) cook?? likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

(TAGLIST) lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :heh:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @heartjwonie @strwberryglass

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ ksj: buy me presents ❆•꙳

in which you and your boyfriend, jin, do a gift exchange... you get him a new game console and he gifts you his credit card

series m.list // taglist

note: pretty intimate..... idk..... holy shit !!!!

warning: body worship, spitting, fingering, jin eats her ass and pussy ??? choking, raw sex, missionary, doggy, anal !!!! oc's legs are over her head at one point, and jin has a big cock (duh)

//

the christmas tree bathes the room in a soft, golden glow, its twinkling lights dancing over the crinkled wrapping paper scattered across the floor. the scent of cinnamon and pine lingers, weaving through the faint melody of holiday music humming softly from the speaker perched on the shelf.

you’re cross-legged on the rug, knees almost brushing seokjin’s, his gaze fixed on you with that familiar mix of curiosity and warmth. the final gift for him sits in your lap, its weight pressing into your palms, making your heart skip with a giddy kind of anticipation.

“okay, this is the big one,” you say, nudging the box toward him.

he eyes it suspiciously, his head tilting like he’s trying to solve a riddle without all the clues. “what is it?”

“just open it, jin,” you reply, leaning back on your hands, and biting back a grin.

he makes a show of inspecting the wrapping job first, his fingers tracing the perfectly folded edges. 

“you wrapped this, didn’t you?”

“obviously.”

“of course you did,” he mutters, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “it’s too perfect. how am i supposed to rip this open?”

“you could just do it,” you tease, gesturing impatiently. “before i take it back—”

immediately, he starts peeling the paper. he’s careful at first, then impatient when the box beneath reveals itself. when he lifts the lid, the air between you shifts.

“no way,” he breathes, staring at the pristine, matte-black console nestled inside. “a PS5?”

“yeah. do you like it?” you ask, your grin widening as his eyes flicker between the console and you, disbelief written all over his face.

but then he spots the second item tucked beneath it, a signed copy of valorant with the unmistakable signature of ninja, his favorite streamer.

“you’re kidding,” he says, pulling the case out with both hands like it’s the holy grail.

“merry christmas!” you say softly, watching as his lips part, his expression stuck somewhere between awe and amazement.

“this is—how did you even—” he trails off, his thumb brushing over the sharpie scrawl. “ninja… how? h-how’d you do this?”

“turns out he’s not that hard to track down if you know the right people,” you reply with a shrug, trying to play it cool even though your chest feels warm from how happy he looks. “he’s pretty nice too. chill guy.”

“you talked to him?”

“yeah. he said you’re handsome.”

jin sets the case down gently, like it’s made of glass, and reaches over to grab your hands, pulling you closer.

“this is insane,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s still processing it all. “you’re insane.”

“in a good way, right?”

“the best way,” he says, squeezing your hands before letting go and reaching for the console again. “i seriously don’t know how i’m supposed to top this. thank you, love.”

he reaches for you. you kiss him softly and giggle against his lips. he doesn’t want to let go of you just yet. seokjin leans in again, kissing you more. 

laughing, you pull away and reach your arms out to him. 

“my turn!” 

seokjin reaches behind him and takes out his present. his fingers nervously trace the edge of the ribbon tied around the small box in his hands. he looks at you, then at the box, then back at you, and finally thrusts it forward.

“here,” he says, voice low and almost embarrassed. “merry christmas, love.”

you take it gently, the velvet box cool against your palms. the name cartier gleams faintly on the lid, and your heart jumps. you glance up at him, but his eyes are fixed on the floor, his knee bouncing slightly.

lifting the lid, you see it—a thin gold promise ring, the dainty diamond catching the glow of the lights. 

it’s beautiful, understated in a way that feels so seokjin.

before you can say a word, he shifts forward, his hand brushing yours as he lifts the cushion beneath the ring. 

“there’s, uh… also this,” he mutters, revealing his sleek black credit card tucked underneath. he groans softly, his ears burning pink as he stumbles through his explanation. 

“to be so honest with you… i didn’t know what else to get you. the ring—it’s been in my sock drawer for 2 months. i couldn’t think, i ran out of time, and… i’m sorry. your present was so much better than mine. i feel so bad—”

your fingers tighten around the box, a laugh bubbling out of you before you can stop it. “seokjin,” you say, shaking your head, “this is perfect. thank you so much, love.”

he blinks at you, a little uncertain, and you reach for his hands, tugging him closer until your knees bump. 

“seokjin, i love it,” you murmur. “i love you.”

he exhales, shoulders relaxing as a small smile pulls at his lips. he takes the ring with careful hands, holding it like something precious. 

“this isn’t just a christmas gift,” he says softly, slipping it onto your finger. his eyes meet yours, steady and warm. “it’s a promise. i promise to take care of you, to make you laugh, to be patient when you’re stubborn and to listen when you need me to... and i promise to give you a better christmas gift next year… and the year after that. the year after that… and the year after—”

“i get it,” you laugh. “you could give me a paper ring and i’d still love it.”

he rolls his eyes, partly because he knows you’re telling the truth and partly because it’s riddiculous that he’d ever give you a paper ring. come on. he’s fucking rich and the ideal provider man. a paper ring? he’s not here to play games—10 carat ring minimum for your engagement (which he’s in the middle of planning). 

seokjin takes your hand and slips the ring on your 4th finger. 

“it fits,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over the ring now resting on your finger.

“it fits,” you echo, the corners of your mouth lifting as you admire the delicate band.

the mall is bustling with last-minute shoppers, but none of it phases you as you tug seokjin along, weaving through the crowd with his hand firmly clasped in yours. he follows you willingly, even when you pause outside a lingerie store, the display mannequins clad in delicate lace and silk.

you glance back at him, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. 

“what do you think? should i?”

his eyes widen slightly, his ears already tinged pink.

“uh—yeah. yes. absolutely.”

you giggle, dragging him inside.

a few minutes later, you’re behind a curtain, slipping into the first set—a soft pink number that feels like it was made for you.

“jin,” you call out, peeking your head through the curtain. “ready?”

“more than ready,” he replies, his voice slightly strained.

when you step out, his reaction is immediate. his jaw slackens, and he leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as he takes you in.

“oh my god,” he mutters, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “you’re—wow.”

you do a playful spin, the fabric fluttering lightly. “so? should i get it?”

“get all of them,” he says without hesitation. “max out the card. please."

seokjin fears he might cum too fast tonight.

you’re wearing one out of the literal twelve sets and he can’t breathe. as his fred chain dangles above you, he leans down to kiss you. before he does, he pauses.

his presence fills the space like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. his eyes that have you pinned. dark and searching, like he’s memorizing every detail of you, every breath you take.

“you’re so…” his voice trails off, soft and low, like he’s lost the words somewhere between his chest and yours. his hand lifts, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw, then settling there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you tilt your head up, heart thundering in your chest as his thumb grazes your cheek, his touch both gentle and deliberate. he leans down even more, slow enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“love,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch, like he’s asking permission, like he’s afraid of what happens when he finally gives in. but then he does—closing the space between you, his mouth firm and soft all at once, his other hand slipping to your waist to hold you steady.

he kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s ever been sure of, his frame looming over you, protective and unyielding. his fingers tighten at your jaw, tilting your face just so, and when he deepens the kiss.

you grasp at his polo, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep yourself upright, and he makes this low, quiet sound in the back of his throat… it’s like the idea of you falling is too much. his lips leave yours for a moment, just long enough for him to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispers, his voice a little ragged, his thumb brushing once more against your cheek before his lips find yours again. “i love you so much.”

before you know it, he shifts, kissing you from your lips to down your neck. then, over your breasts. gently, he tugs on your new lace bra and reveals your breasts. he kisses them, finding your nipples along the way. sucking them, you let out a moan. 

then, he moves down. 

down to your stomach. 

down to your hips where he bites them. 

then, finally…

“all that lingerie shopping only for me to take it off of you, huh?” 

you giggle as he lifts your legs to get a better view of your pussy in the lace lingerie. he lets out a groan, admiring the way your body looks. quickly, he takes his shirt off and shifts out of his boxers. he’s totally naked now and you can’t help but admire his build. 

he’s so… strong. his body is so fucking lean and the way his muscle are carved makes it so difficult for you to not be soaking wet. 

and god… his cock?

his perfect cock. 

seokjin’s cock has to be the best one you’ve ever seen. actually, it’s the only one you’ve ever seen. you’ve been in a relationship with him since your early 20s and he was the one to take your virginity. when you talk about sex with your friends, you can’t help but feel sorry for them. 

not because their sex stories are mid… but because they don’t know how good you have it. how fucking good seokjin gives it to you. 

he always makes you cum first.

he’s good at foreplay—sometimes you cum so fast and hard that you sob. 

despite his size (which is an XL), he truly knows how to fuck. he’s so hot. all his mannerisms and the way he maneuvers during sex make your inside tighten and flip over. it’s almost indescribable how good he makes you feel during sex… just the thought alone of having sex with him gets you wet. to be in this position? underneath him, wearing the lingerie he bought you? 

you’re as wet as a fucking rain forest. 

and he knows. 

“so wet, love.”

“i know.”

“for me?”

“only for you.”

he smirks as he takes his cock and gives himself a few lazy pumps. he brings one of your legs over his shoulder and pushes the fabric to the side. he then drags the tip of his cock around your entrance. he taps on it and lowers his head to spit on your clit. jin takes a moment to massage his saliva into your clit, earning moans from you. 

“wanna play with you,” he mumbles. “but i… i can’t. you’re so pretty right now, love. can i just tell you that? you’re so perfect. i love the way your tits…” 

he pauses and caresses them. you get goosebumps. 

“they’re so plump. i love how they fit in my hands and… i love it when i stuff my face in them. so fucking perfect… and your neck,” seokjin’s hand trails up to your neck. he cups them, lightly choking you. “i love it when i wrap my hands around them. so dainty. so perfect for me…”

then, he cups your face and tuns his thumb over your lips. 

“pretty lips too… love it when they’re wrapped around my cock. love it when you kiss me and i bite them. i love how they feel agaisnt my skin… y-you’re… so fucking beautiful, love. your body is my favourite thing in this world. it’s my favourite gift. what did i do to deserve you?”

as you’re about to reply, you let out a small gasp as he pushes himself inside you. 

you squirm, trying to adjust to the sudden harsh push. his cock is hard and long, you feel it reach your guts. 

he stays still for a moment, lowering his body and kissing your neck. in your ear, he murmurs; “you okay?”

“mhm.. so big, love.”

“sorry,” he chuckles. “do you want me to pull out? i didn’t stretch you out… just… just wanted to be in you.”

“it’s okay,” you tell him, reaching to fix his hair. “can i have a minute, though?”

he nods with a soft smile. “of course, love. let me know when i can move.”

you nod and he continues to kiss your neck. he sucks on it, working on giving you a hickey. you try to relax your upper body and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. the sharpness of his cock inside you eases for a moment and you take that as a sign. 

“ready,” you whisper. “softly please.” 

seokjin moans in response as he gently thrusts inside you. 

he plants his forearms around you and pushes himself in deeper. his chain dangles on top and you watch it, trying to distract yourself from the burn. soon, you adjust and begin to feel the pleasure. when you feel it, you wrap your legs around his torso. jin takes note and begins to fuck you faster. you hold onto him, unable to stop yourself from moaning and groaning. 

he grunts a few times, feeling your warm pussy tighten around him. 

“jin…”

“yes, love?”

“doggy?” 

you don’t have to tell him twice. 

seokjin pulls out and gets up from the bed. he stands on the edge as you get on all fours. you arch your back as he takes your lace pantie and tugs it to the side. he slips his cock back in and you let out a shaky moan. 

he begins to fuck you, his pelvis hitting your ass loud and fast. 

“this ass….” seokjin breathes in awe. he slaps it before squeezing it. “god, it’s so perfect. look at your curves… love, you’re so perfect. i want to buy every piece of lingerie the world has to offer. you need to be on display… you’re so fucking perfect, my love. oh fuck, i… wow, this ass is so fucking big, i wish i could—f-fuck. let me just—”

without warning, he pulls out and kneels. seokjin shoves his face in your ass and begins to eat you out. he digs himself under, running his nose through your folds and a little on your clit. next thing you know, he’s running his tongue all the way your asshole. you yelp. 

“anal?” he requests. 

“sure.” you breathe, “can you do the thing—”

without hesitation, he stands up and reaches for your neck. he grips it tightly, choking you with a good pleasure. seokjin then runs his hand through your pussy and spreads your wetness into the rim of your ass. he spits on his cock, spreading the saliva to make it more slippery. then, he shoves it inside. 

you breathe in the sharpness and pleasure. 

seokjin chokes you a little harder as he fucks your ass. 

"fuck. you're so tight... so fucking tight... i love you. thank you for letting me have this... love fucking your ass, love."

"mhmm," you moan. "feels so good... cock so big, jin. i love it."

then, you cough and he lets go. 

his hands move to your hips, holding them steady as he fucks you. your body follows and he watches in disbelief how lucky he is to have you. 

then, his fingers find their way to your clit. underneath, he plays with you. you throw your head back from how fucking good it all feels. he plays with your pussy, flicking, pinching, and fingering you. 

“selfish little thing,” seokjin hums. “you want it all, don’t you? you like it when i fuck you in the ass and play with your pussy. i choke you and you love it. i… i give you everything. i love to do this, you know? i love giving you everything.”

you moan at his words. 

then, you hear him pant and feel him fuck you harder. 

“f-fuck,” he stutters. 

then, a few seconds later, as you feel his dick twitch—he pulls out. 

not to cum. 

but to flip you over. 

he kisses you while his hands guide your legs to go over your head. he stretches you, and you almost sob from the way your pussy pulsates. aside from all the fucking positions and everything you two have done so far—he’s also fucking insanely handsome. 

his innocent face and soft features contradict so much of what he’s done to you tonight. 

he takes your hands and tells you to hold the position. wrapping your arms around your legs, he kneels over and spits in your pussy again. you watch as his saliva slips inside you. then, he takes his cock and runs the head over your pussy. he pushes the tip in and then takes it out. he drags it down to your ass, lifts you a bit, and does the same to your asshole. 

“which one should i fuck? i love both equally.” 

you pout. 

“my pussy, please.”

he smirks lazily. “so polite.”

then, he shoves his hard, thick, long cock inside your pussy. 

he pumps himself inside and out of you. his eyebrows furrow from the pleasure and you feel him stiffen on top of you. you clench your pussy as you feel it throb. he fucks you through the sensation. 

“jin…” you breathe. “i’m… i’m gonna cum—oh my g-god—”

he slaps your pussy. 

then, he fucks you harder. 

“can’t this pretty pussy take more?”

you pout at him. 

“i’m… i’m s-so close,” you let out a sob. “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles and lowers himself. he kisses you and swats your hands away from your legs. finally, you let them go and lay properly. his hands then roam your body as he kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;

“sorry, sorry.. got carried away. i love you, ___. sorry, love.”

as he fucks you, you forgive him. “it’s okay, love.”

“love, you cum if you want.”

you shift and give him a tired smile. 

“but you said not to."

"don't listen to me," he huffs. "i lose my mind whenever i'm inside you."

you giggle and kiss him once. twice. and then a third time before suggesting; "soft, lazy, sloppy missionary? think i can last longer.”

seokjin chuckles and nods. he kisses the top of your head and wraps himself around you. 

“whatever you want, love. i'm gonna give you everything.”

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

‎[one / two / three / four / current / six...]

chapter five

"there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

word count: 6k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ i did something bad 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The kiss that started sweet and gentle turned into a passionate and steamy kiss in a fraction of a second. Franco felt kind of desperate. And to be fair, he was. He has waited his whole life for this moment to happen. Or at least all of these years since he met you. But he was convinced he won’t ever feel like this for any other girl in his entire life. He dated girls, fucked a few, played with them sometimes, tried to make it work. But none of them felt like you, laughed like you, thought like you, joked like you. None of them were you. And what was the craziest thing to him was that he had never tasted you. Not like this. He felt raised to heaven blessed by the gods. He felt like a kid who behaved properly and Santa brought him all of the presents he asked for during the year. A dream came true.  

His hands were all over your back and hips. His touch was warm and determined. He felt like he wanted to remember how you felt, the shape of you under his touch, how your skin felt, how warm he made you feel. 

His kisses were tracing a road down your neck. His lips were soft and wet. They made your skin crawl. Your fingers in his hair and shoulders trying to remain stood under his embrace. His skin was soft and his perfume was leaving you drunker by its whiskey scent. That smell defined him very well in your opinion. His skin was on fire. You couldn’t help but feel things you aren’t supposed to feel with your best friend. Well, you were doing things you’re not supposed to do with your bestie either. 

Your breath was heavy. Your heart rate elevated. He came back to your lips and the way he kisses you gently again burnt your body. You felt a heat you haven’t felt in a long time for anyone. If you didn’t remember to be this intense before. Franco was franco. And that implied that everything was different. Unique. He wasn’t like other guys. I mean, he was the most cheerful guy you have ever met. You couldn’t stop laughing around him. It  was impossible not to or have a serious conversation. But at the same time he was such a great listener. When you told him about Charles that you ended up crying, he was the most comforting person. You knew at that moment your friendship made a turn. A turn into one of the most precious relationships you have in your life. He was so comprehensive. It is actually so rare to meet someone like that in this fucked up society these days. 

And for some reason or maybe for all of those reasons, this felt really wrong. You didn’t want to hurt him. You always knew he liked you, of course you did. It was obvious. The way he looked at you. All out of context presents or compliments. All of his invitations to every grand prix during the year. The facetime calls at random times in the day just to check in. and you liked all of that but always tried to make sure you didn’t play with his feelings. Respecting spaces and distances. Codes. He was really important to you, you just couldn’t risk him just like that. Just for a kiss or sex. He deserved to be so happy with someone 100% into him. And you kinda hated destiny for making him like you when you were stuck with Charles and always into someone else (even failing every time). 

But now you hate yourself even more. Not only because you liked to torture yourself in a really twisted way. But also because you were actually kissing him and touching him in not a friendly way. Not the way you’re supposed to touch him. Or to kiss him. Or to spend your time with him. This was so wrong. You knew this would lead to drama. And the worst part is that you couldn’t stop. And maybe you didn’t want to. And why didn’t you? What is your brain planning to do? Making every situation you’re in worse than the previous one. 

And it was the worst scenario possible. You don’t know how you both ended up in Franco's room. His shirt was already off. Your lips were kissing his stomach going down. It was the best situation for him, that’s for sure. You promised to never get this drunk ever again. You stood up after reaching his boxers with your lips. And kissed him again like you wanted to rescued yourself from fuck it all up but at the same time not stopping at all. You were driving Franco insane and for a moment he felt a bit empty. Was this the beginning of something? Or was it just a once in a lifetime night? Thinking about all of this started hunting him. You have never given him signs that you liked him back. But you were one of his best friends. His hands grabbed your head possessively bringing you closer to him starting to lead you to his bed. You followed him, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. 

Were you ready to do this again? 

Surprising as it may sound, you haven’t had sex in a very long time. You liked to have fun with yourself and explore yourself. But it was hard for you to feel something towards someone and desire them this way. Because the only one who used to turn you on was charles. And there he was again in your head. He was always there hunting you. Franco pushed you softly into his bed climbing up on you. And that’s when you woke up from this trance you couldn’t quite comprehend. He was about to undress you when you pushed him again as softly as you could because you were now exasperated about the situation you put yourself under. Franco looked at you scared. He felt he has really fucked it up. 

“y/n i’m sorry, please. Perdon, I didn't mean to.. I’m sorry” he said, getting up and pulling his shirt on again as fast as he could. You tried to adjust yourself heading out the bedroom. You couldn’t face him now. You felt terrible about yourself. You didn’t know how to handle this situation. You were too drunk. But you also knew you wouldn’t know how to deal with this sober either. “y/n wait, please. Let’s talk” he could grab your hand to stop you from leaving the bedroom making you face him. You felt so embarrassed. You felt like a monster. You looked at his face. He was such a good guy and yet here you are about to break his heart. Why didn’t you stop? Why did you let him do this? You knew it was not only your responsibility, it was his as well but still. 

“I'm sorry fran, this shouldn’t have happened. I'm really sorry” when you said those words you could see how his face changed into a one that even broke your heart. He dropped your hand. He knew. He fucking knew you didn’t like him. Then why would you do this? And on his birthday?

You sprinted out of that room immediately. We can say you almost ran away from him. But the reality was that you wanted to run away from yourself and your stupid ass decisions who fucked everything up each single time. The hallway down to where the party was being held never felt so infinite. You knew your anxiety was becoming a bit too much for you at that moment. Catastrophic scenarios were playing on and on in your mind as you took each step down the stairs. The pressure in your chest increases when you see the people at the party. You felt like they were looking at you, judging. Laughing in your face. Howpathetic could you be? Not getting over your only ex fro more than 10 years, then almost fuck your friend thhat you wasn’t sure if you liked him like that for real or not,  then wanting to be over everything and then fucking everything up. You didn't know how to handle these situations. You felt like a teenager again. Too many mistakes. Too confusing. That made you feel ashamed of yourself. You were a 32 years old woman, acting like 17 years old, fucking up friendships while you couldn’t stop thinking of your ex. And that’s when you wanted to throw up. 

You didn’t want to find your friends. You didn’t want to tell them how you fuck it up with the one guy (once again) that is good for you. How you wasted his time and feelings. You felt like a monster. Like you played with him on purpose even if you actually didn’t want to. You were way too harsh on yourself sometimes. You needed to get out of there just like you got away when you first saw Charles again in that restaurant (or well, now it’s a coffee shop). 

It was running away from your fears, you couldn’t confront them. It was running away from you. You hated yourself. You couldn’t think straight and clear about yourself most of the time. The only moment you trusted yourself was when writing. And you also doubted yourself very much on it. You couldn’t win. Your self-confidence didn’t exist. You were sure about it. People were dancing while you were pushing them a bit to walk through the party out to the garden. You need fresh air in your brain as soon as possible. Or you were about to become insane if you didn’t. People said things to you but you didn’t hear. Your eyes locked on the floor. Your stomach was in your throat. The image of Charles stuck in your brain. 

I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. 

His lips moved, pronouncing those damn three words to your face. As if they were nothing. As if you were nothing at all for him. And maybe you were. You couldn’t imagine Franco saying those things to you, for example. Or maybe men were equal? Maybe you needed to experiment with girls. Maybe they are less complicated and more open. But maybe you were the problem. Too many thoughts per second. You jumped out of every single boat you ended up in. You didn’t know anymore. In your brain, things are too complicated and you know all too well you will need years to repair the damage made to it. From your dad and mum, to Charles and every single other guy you mate. To Franco and to this balcony where you would find someone maybe ready to love you like you matter, like you deserve to feel loved, like you’re amazing and beautiful. Then you were sure you were completely insane. There was no way you were always thinking about someone saving you from yourself. But there you were hoping to meet the love of your life in that gallery outside the party in Franco's house. Maybe writing and your imagination was rotting your brain. You thought about retiring and working in a library as a normal person would do. You didn’t know why you were thinking all of these things suddenly. 

Maybe you were tired and frustrated. You just gave up when you finally got to the garden. The cold air of London fills your lungs, helping you with your anxiety. Your body heat dropped. Your sweaty hands got dry and cold. Your nose is red. Your eyes closed. You were doing your breathing meditation. Your heart palpitations didn’t stop though. And they were fast. Faster than Charles getting over you and everything you built. Faster than you ruining the friendship with franco. Faster than you waiting for someone to save you. Your life sucked. You really didn’t want to think about it like that. But you did. Most times you just couldn't see positive things in it. You felt like a failure. A loser. You didn’t have a lover nor a family. A loser that’s what you were. A complete failure. You had almost no family as well. No father, no mother. Just a brother and a sister who lived on the other side of the world and barely talked to you. Your only family was agostina, your best friend. And she was everything you were not. She has the perfect lover with whom she built a beautiful family of five. Her kids were lovely. She was gorgeous and the greatest person you knew. She was exactly everything you were not. But you didn't hate her. Of course you didn't. You would never think of her like that. It made you as sad as happy for her. Sad for you. Happy for her. 

Why can’t you live something like that? 

“Hey, you okay?” you jumped a little scared because of the sudden interruption to your thoughts and sadness. You turned to your side to find that guy. I think it was Lando's name or something like that Nikola said a few hours ago. When he brought you back to reality you realized you were crying hard. Your face bathed in tears. Cold and puffy. His face was concerned. His eyes are shiny, so blue and green. You found his face so pretty to look at. Alcohol was still in your veins, otherwise you wouldn’t be here crying so dramatically. You would try to hide it. Always. 

⋆˚࿔ let it happen 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your eyes were on his eyes. Yours were red and puffy. His red is tired and shiny. You stayed in silence for a moment. You answered his question when he saw your face. Something in him cracked for some reason. Oh, he did know you very well. He saw you on that balcony and now that he has you right in front of him, he couldn’t believe you being more beautiful than on that day, but you actually are. He promised Charles he wouldn’t even try but he talked to Carlos about it. Carlos wanted Charles to move on but he was making a move on you and was crossing the line. 

He looked down to his water bottle on his right hand. “Do you want some? Maybe you feel better” he said with a deep voice. He was nervous as hell. Alcohol in his veins as like in yours. He saw your smile. Your face was so pretty. You looked so cute with the boca juniors shirton. He had one as well. He didn’t think they were his colors, blue and yellow, not his thing. But you looked so pretty in them. All of the girls at the party were dressed looking hot as hell. But you and your friends looked cute. Relaxed outfits for the win. And that made you look all so attractive or at least for him. He recognized you a few hours ago. He was kinda shocked to see you there because he has never seen you near franco like ever. You didn’t go to the races nor comment on Franco's posts. Or anything at all. Then here you are. He saw kissing him. He saw you two going up the stairs. Alcohol didn’t let him analizy things properly even if he tried his best in doing so. 

Your fingers that grabbed the bottle from his hand, brushed his sending electricity throughout his arm. He smiled gently at you watching you drink from it. 

“Thank you, and sorry you had to see me cry” you told him, giving his bottle back and he smiled so pretty, shaking his head. You found him so attractive. You were just trying not to be so obvious. Also, you were worried to look like a slut if he saw you kissing Franco before. But why did you care so much? Why were you thinking all of these things about him? 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You still look cute tho” he said giggling a bit making you laugh a bit as well. You shook your head not agreeing with him. 

“Thank you again, but no need to lie about that tho” you told him a little funny. 

“I promise I'm not lying. You're pretty even crying” he confessed, making you blush. “You okay? Need to talk or something?” he asked to checkon you even if you were strangers. “Im lando by the way” he introduced himself so this wasn’t that weird. 

“I’m y/n. Nice to meet you. I think I'm better now, I just made a lot of stupid decisions throughout my life that now alcohol just reminds me how much of a loser I am” you were honest. More honest than you would be with anyone. You just blamed the alcohol. 

“Hey, I don't think you’re a loser y/n. I mean, I know we don’t know each other at all. But for me, you don’t look like a loser at all” he expressed. You looked out to the garden in front of you a bit ashamed. 

“Appearances can lie, you know? I’m a loser, I promise you. I’m still stuuckin a fucking restaurante knowing all too well i should’ve move on years ago. But here I am. Fucking up friendships and any opportunity i have to get better and be happy. I just hate myself so much. I won’t ever be happy” you gave up. You no longer cared about what people would think. You didn’t care if he thought you were crazy for telling him so much private stuff. You barely know his name. But there you were comfortable enough to confess your depression to him. He analyzed you. Every detail of your face. Each word you used to describe yourself. 

“I don’t think that makes you a loser still. I think you’re brave enough to tell a stranger how you feel and in my opinion, that takes strength and confidence. And i think you will be happy, you just need to let yourself be” his words hung on the air between you two. Why was a stranger talking to her? Why was he saying things she needed to here? Why his words were important? You were sure he  knew how much of a mess you were. It shows. You were sure. But still he was here. Right when you want someone here waiting for you ready to save you.  Is this who will save you? Are you out of your mind for thinking like this about him? 

Delusion was thinking he will be just like charles wright? You had no idea who this guy was but still you compared him to charles. Because you didn’t want to date Charles again or anyone like him. Or did you? You didn’t know how you felt about all of this. About charles. About yourself. About this guy you don't even know and you want him already to save you just because he called you brave and strong and pretty. Was that really enough for you? Was that the standard you had for yourself? He could be a serial killer right? But you could save him. He could love you. And you would forget about charles. About his touch. About his voice and laugh. About his jokes and moans. About his perfume. About his family and friends. About his cars. About everything related to him. 

But was it fair to love someone to stop loving someone else? 

Did you still love Charles? 

You looked at him again. Your eyes connected. He smiled shyly. You did as well. Maybe you could let this guy ruin you just like Charles did, just because of his face, and his voice and what he said to you without even knowing you. You should get your shit together. You still reeling that fucking monaguesque guy. But at this point you didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what you thought. He got closer and kissed your cheek, that took you by surprise but you liked it. Probably way too much.

“I know without knowing you that you’re amazing. You just need to believe it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who sees you” he added and your smile became wider. 

“Thank you, lando.wow. Any stranger said so many nice things about me” you half joked shyly and his cheeks went red. His giggles were the cutest sound you have heard lately. Where was this guy? 

Then you remembered Franco and that this guy probably is his friend. And your back at your self hate again.

Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Why do you have to make so many mistakes at once? 

“y/n, we need your help” Dottie's voice interrupted you two. Her voice seemed worried. “Betty is way too drunk, it’s better if we go home now” she explained, a little suspicious of your both body languages. You nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to meet you Lando, hope to talk to you another time though so it’s not that depressing. I promise im fun” you said a bit funny but hurried. Your friend first, always. You kissed his cheek quickly. He laughed about your comment. 

“Oh yea, she is,” Dottie added, supporting you in a smile.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Y/n. good luck with your friend” he said to both of you and after smiling at him you went into the party again.

“D, I think I'm in love,” you said excitedly.

“What?”

⋆˚࿔ it’s time to go 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ the fucking tuesday 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Arriving in monaco again at 11 am has never felt so good in your entire life. A trip that started like a dream to remember, turned into a nightmare you couldn’t forget but all you wanted to was to forget about it. Just pretend it never existed and erase everything you did wrong that Saturday night.

You missed your house (your safe place),and you needed its comfort more than you would like to admit. Your brain was a mess. You couldn’t stop thinking about charles driving you to your friend’s house then the memory just fading away and inturning into him saying non stop i met someone. You felt you were going insane when you remembered Franco's skin on yours and how good and warm it felt. How you kissed his abs. And then how you got so scared. His face was printed in ink in your subconscious. You could only see sadness, shame, and a bit of hatred. You were sure at that moment he hated you. Like you humiliate him a bit. You felt so bad about it you couldn’t even face him. You really wanted to say sorry but you just didn’t want to see him straight in the eyes. Shame was tattooed all over your body. How could you?

Then your mind was reminded of Lando's existence and you just wanted to punch yourself in the face. What the hell happened with you at that party? Was the fernet that Franco prepared? You wanted to blame anything except yourself. You didn’t understand yourself either. Like your feelings and thoughts couldn’t agree on anything. Like you had split personality issues.

Yes, you liked lando way too much probably in those few minutes at the gallery. But then there was Franco that you now were confused about how you felt about him. Because you really liked to kiss him. To touch him. To feel him close to you in that way.

And then there was still charles.

You were really tired of thinking already you just had to put taylor swift on your headphones.you took the bus that left you one block away from your house. You don't want to call anyone to pick you up. You texted A and she told you that. You didn’t understand why she did it. But it overwhelmed you for sure. You just wanted to retreat from life like forever.

When you finally got home you went straight into bed. When you touched your pillow you started crying. And that’s how you fell asleep scared to have another nightmare.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles watched Carlos leaving his phone on the counter with a weird face “everything alright mate?” he asked. Carlos nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, did you send the invitation to everyone you know?” he asked, grabbing the box with vodka bottles and taking them to the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a crazy wild night” Charles said excitedly trying to not let his anxiety control his mood right now. He wanted to have fun and purposely forget about everything with alcohol. A lot of it. As much as possible.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The music was so loud that Charles could barely listen to what the blonde girl in front of him was talking about but he didn’t care that much. He was already bored by the third girl Carlos introduced him to. He knows Carlos just has good intentions but he was already convinced no one will captivate him the way you did. Not even if they tried to imitate you. Since he saw you again he couldn’t forget your scent. The way you smiled to your nephews. How you treated them and how he was confused for a moment if they were your children. He always knew you wanted to be a mother and for what he saw he was sure you would be the best one out there. He wanted to forget about you he really did. But he was also sure life hated him. He wanted to rebuild his life and leave behind the damage he caused, but then there was you again in that fucking restaurant. And in that moment he knew all too well it would drive him insane. And he felt like it. He believed it.

The girl notices he wasn’t paying attention to her. Charles was playing with his glass of whiskey. Her face looked annoyed and disappointed. Charles didn’t care. She told him she needed to go to the bathroom and disappeared for the rest of the night. He drank his whole glass in one take. He just wanted to drown in alcohol right there and vaish from life. From everyone who knew him.

He saw Carlos dancing la macarena with his group of spanish friends that came for the holidays. He was enjoying himself around. Rebecca, his girlfriend, was there as well, matching hia freak. And for a moment he felt something he never felt before and he didn't like it at all. He felt envious. He wanted to have his life. Be him. Have the girl of his dreams dancing around with him. His friends were here but not with him. And he didn’t even like to dance. And don't have anyone to have sex with. Then he felt miserable. Angry with life itself.he was disappointed. He felt he let down everyone in his life. And the proof was that damn book she wrote. He was a coward. And everyone knew about it; they just didn't know it was him all along. And when the truth comes out then his life will be ended.

He swallowed hard and stood up to grab more whiskey. This time he was drinking from the bottle. He pushed himself aside from the party and sat near the pool even if he was freezing. He didn’t care anymore if he got sick or died. He was extreme. He looked at your balcony and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child. Throw punches and scream. He felt there was no way to fix his life. He regretted breaking you so much. He always knew this was everything to you. You were so caring and always there for him and his whole family. He also knew he broke his mum. She loves you deeply. You were like her daughter, the one she never had. The one he and dad would have loved to have if they could choose the sex of their children. Remembering his dad broke him. He started crying. If he was here he knew he would be disappointed in him. Not because of his career (he made history) but because he isn’t with a good woman. He doesn't have kids either. And he now believed he didn't even have a future.

He looked again at your balcony. The lights were off. He didn’t know if you were there or not. If you had a lover. Or even if you have him blocked on social media. And that’s when curiosity won over him. What if he tried to search for your name on instagram? He was sure someone he knew, knew you as well. Monaco is too little to not have those coincidences on the daily.

He searched the first letters of your name and then saw that his ex, alexandra followed you. He felt weird about it and his face showed confusion with his eyebrows. He clicked on your profile and started stalking you. You still paint and have a piano. You used to play piano together. Actually, you taught him. You were the best professor he had ever had. He smiled looking at pictures of random dogs you found on the streets and with your nephews. You built a new family away from your actual family. That made him happy for a second. He knew after both of your parents died, you didn’t get along so well with your siblings. But he didn’t know if it was still like that. He saw how successful you were. How your book was a bestseller and how it would be a movie produced by universal. He was surprised. He would have never expected this outcome. Back in the day you were an art teacher for children and had a studio where you gave those lessons. Children loved you so much. He remembered their bright smiles when the parents came around to pick them up. He admired you so much for it. He even fantasizes that one day that face so bright and happy will be the one your children will have everytime they look at their mother. He wanted to be a father with you. But then alex came around and fucked it all up. Or well he actually did. And he still couldn’t understand why he did it.

Alex Was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. She also loved him dearly. She was in love with him. And he thought he was with her. But then everything spiraled down and collapsed. He met her at that partymax verstappen threw to celebrate he was an official f1 driver for red bull. He invited everyone he ever met along his life. You couldn’t go because you had to take an exam the following morning. And that’s when it happened. She was dancing with her group of friends. She also had a boyfriend. And we talked and sparks were there. And then Charles got all confused. And they kissed. And he had already cheated by the time he realized that it was wrong. And then he couldn't stop. And his life went to shit.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt his teardrops stain his creme pants. He was using a fancy outfit. He looked really good. But as everything he touched, he also ruined that too in that moment. And because he was so busy feeling miserable, he didn’t realize the police were already at carlos’ door wanting to shut down the party. I mean, it was a tuesday night of a working week after all.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

When Charles got closer to Carlos, he was already shouting at the police officers like a crazy man. He was drunk for sure and the policeman knew about it too. No perfume will ever smell like that. Not in Monaco of course.

“Then tell me, who will call? I need to know who to call. I never do parties and then once I do I can't and it’s not fair. I need to know who called you, it's my right as a citizen "Carlos was verbose and angry.

“Carlos it’s okay, how much should we pay you to let us have a party?” Charles intervenes trying to look not drunk at all but failing in each word. Police men looked at each other, annoyed by these two men.

“That would be a crime, sir” the police officer with a beard that looked disgusting in charles’ opinion, answered him. He kind of felt offended.

“Then who it was!!” Carlos was losing it and Charles was scared they would take him to jail right there.

“Your neighbor” the other one talked now pointing his fingers to his right. His right.

Your house was at his right. You called the cops. At that moment he felt he was about to faint. He was sure he was white. The policemen looked at him weird. Carlos then started walking. If you were in a cartoon show he would have smoke coming out his head right now. He walked fast towards your hose. Charles panicked and followed him desperate. Carlos started banging your door so he could tell you things.

“Carlos, nono. Let’s just go home, c’mon "Charles tried to convince Carlos but he was determined and ignored him. He won’t let you ruin his party. His celebration. His opportunity to present a woman for his friend to be happy. The one he taught you ruined. Becausehe couldn’t be over you. And he saw all of this as if you were now not letting him be able to in a very twisted way.

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. No he felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” carlos said aggressively the moment he saw you when you opened the door.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter six: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

author’s note: hope you all have a merry christmas ❤️ and that you like this chapter as much as I do !

thank you everyone for reading and sharing what I write. I really really appreciate it!

if you wanna be part of the tag list just leave a comment!

see you on the next chapter :)

Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends! (And drink mate together) <3

[lmaowhatt]

jj maybank mini-series!

4 part series!

pairing: jj maybank x pogue!reader

main masterlist

part one ->pogue beach night - jj m.

summary: the pogues have come back to obx as a form of unwinding after jjs near death experience in morocco, at the hands of his biological father, deciding that a beach day in their 'safe-haven' would be best.

part two -> early christmas gift - jj m.

summary: a very early crhistmas gift.

part three -> what a christmas - jj m.

summary: a shocking revelation throws you into a whirlwind of desicions that have to be made and you battle with yourself on how to tell jj about your pregnancy. however, what you dont know is that hes also planning a shocking surprise that quite literally determines your future together.

part four -> happy ever after - jj m.

summary: youre tossed into a corner, now practically being forced into telling jj about your pregnancy with his child. however, lucky for you, he takes it exactly how he told you he would all those nigths ago.

a/n: i did enjoy the ending to this, adn although i wish i couldve made this at least a five to ten part series,i thought this would be a great end to what was originally supposed to be a one shot!

[rae2velaris]

2024 Was a Great Year for Elriels

The end of the year is approaching, and unfortunately, there's no announcement yet, but Elriels definitely have plenty to be grateful for this year.

On the contrary... (Quick rant...I'm allowed one a year)

The other side has enjoyed complaining and discrediting articles and large companies commenting on Elriel...

Why?

I suppose it's because their side of the fandom has nothing new to talk about with their ships?

All they have are:

Commissioned art pieces paid for by themselves (great for the artists and Elriels do commissioned pieces to so... touche)

Screen Rant articles. This website is a way for free lance writers to make some money. Honestly, if you want to dive into them, go ahead, but these article centralize on the writers' opinions and click bait/SEO. And no, I'm not going to hunt down these writers' information to discredit. People are allowed to have their opinions and make money however way they want. Just at least take a moment to look at the titles for Screen Rant articles vs. TIME, TODAY, and E! News. You'll see a difference going forward in this post.

Additonal unnecsssary "official" weeks/ "spontaneous" days for ships and characters due to the belief that Elriel fans ruin everything

Anyways, let's dive into this year's pro Elriel content ❤️

January 30th, 2024

TIME- Time magazine is a widely cited resource and maintains high standards of journalism. In this particular article, only Elain and Azriel are mentioned as a possibility for the next ACOTAR book.

January 30th, 2024

TODAY Show- A sit-down interview with SJM. (This particular part of the interview I condensed together on Canva because of the limited pictures we can include on Tumblr) Below, Sarah talks about fate, the idea of exploring rejecting mates, and free will. (Lucien and Elain?) She also discusses her characters ending up with someone who offers growth and joy. (Azriel and Elain?) SJM can't tell us in black and white that she's doing this, but COME ON people. There's a reason she discusses it.

Oh, and the TODAY show decided to like/comment on Elriel comments ONLY.

Side Note: If interested, take a look at this tumblr post for a lovely, thorough breakdown. ( @courtofblooming )

April 19th, 2024

Guilty As Sin Instagram Story from SJM- Sarah loves her little crumbs, and this song honestly encapulates Elriel. We unfortunately don't get confirmation from SJM, but I'll include some of the lyrics for you to judge.

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves

Or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight

He's a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh

Only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

What makes it even better? Audible and Spotify commented ONLY on Elriel posts in relation to this song. You won't find these particular companies commenting on any other ships of the fandom.

Side Note: The other side of the fandom tries to discredit these influential companies by stating the person behind the account doesn't represent the whole company or just enjoy saying the companies comments aren't credible. Multi-million dollar companies are NOT going to waste their time and reputation on fanon created ships. These companies are business smart and only invest in what's profitable. There's a reason they make millions...ELRIEL is profitable due to canon evidence. Simple as that.

December 2nd, 2024

Bloomsbury and SJMaas Updates announce that the audiobooks are now available on Spotify- Bloomsbury, SJM Updates, and Spotify are in close collaboration with each other. Makes those Spotify Elriel comments even more satisfying. ❤️

December 9th, 2024

SJM 2024 Author of the Year Spotify Video- Although we got little news for the coming spring about audible books, us as a fandom had a lovely time dissecting the video. Yet again, Spotify only commented on Elriel comments.

Side Note: Take a look at these tumblr posts for an inciteful look into the significance of tea cups/Elain ( @offtorivendell ) and an excellent interpretation of the Spotify video. ( @wingedblooms )

December 13th, 2024

E News!- I know this particular article has ruffled some feathers, but it's entertaining none the less! Gotta love the nod to Azriel's wingspan. IYKYK (And yes, it's credible... it's owned by NBC Universal... the same company that owns TODAY and 33% stakes of Hulu through Comcast (Comcast owns NBC Universal, and the stakes are through NBC Universal). I only add Hulu due to the ACOTAR TV series being developed through Hulu.)

December 17th, 2024

Goodreads- This is just a little star on top of the tree, but it's great to know that ACOFAS made it into the top 10 most read overall books this year. (Interesting how ACOSF didn't make it...) Notably, ACOFAS is the bridge for future spin-offs. (Also interesting how a particular character isn't seen in ACOFAS...)

(ACOFAS pictures taken from @psychologynerd post linked below)

In Conclusion...

As an Elriel, I've truly appreciated the continuous confirmations for Azriel and Elain for the future ACOTAR 5 book in small, simple ways. Even better knowing that Spotify and Audible have outwardly commented on ONLY Elriel posts.

As the year 2024 ends, I'll treasure these little nuggets of positivity until the announcement day! I have a feeling 2025 will hold some excellent news for the fandom. Until then, have a wonderful holiday season and a Happy New Year!

P.S.

If you know of anymore pro Elriel content from this year, by all means, write a comment. 🥰

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter three- Afraid

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Talks about readers death, a bit angsty.

A/N: TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY, LET'S GO. I had to get the grind on yall. I've been leaving you guys dry with nothinggg. I hope that you guys enjoy this. I can't say that i'm fully out of my writers block but I do know that I have quite a bit of motivation. Also, I'm writing some new things as well, a Hermione fic, an Olivia Rodrigo fic, and I'm getting a Jenna fic started as well. I have some Oneshots in my drafts currently that I might release some time. Also, i'm sorry in advance if there's any mistakes, I wrote this whole thing in like an hour.

Proof read

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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┏━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┓

“What’s the frown for, dead girl?” Astrid murmured, gently running her thumb over your cold skin, which she had been so desperately trying to get accustomed to.

“I’m never going to be alive again. What if you lose your ability and never see my ghost again?” Your arm instinctively leaned into her warm touch.

“Y/N, i’m not going to suddenly just stop having this ability.” Her reassurance felt nice but did little against your fears. Her fingers raised to gently pinch your cheek, trying to bring a faint smile to your lips, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep seeing your pretty ghost face no matter what.”

A soft smile appeared on your face, wanting to believe Astrid’s words. Allowing yourself to get carried away by the thought as you continue to lean your cold, dead skin closer to Astrid’s warm, live touch.

“Even having gone through death, you’re still clingy.” Her tone was one of fondness.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━��

Weeks had gone by, Astrid stopped by your house whenever she could and even when she couldn’t, you’d roam the town trying to find her like a lost puppy. She was the only one who could see and talk to you, without her, you were lost in a sea of people who couldn’t see or hear you. However, you did know Astrid the best, knowing where to find her whether it’s at school or at the Deetz household.

Currently, Astrid was sitting in her bedroom, trying to desperately study for a test that she had the following day. It was late at night, with Astrid only having her desk lamp on to prove enough light to illuminate her work. She let out a small huff, frustrated as the words were beginning to blur together on the paper. Raking a hand through her messy hair, she sat back in her chair.

“God damnit.”

“Boo.” You joked as you phased through her room’s door, smiling. Emitting a sharp gasp at the sudden voice, her head whipping around to look at the door.

“God! Don’t do that!” Astrid nearly yelled, her hand over her chest as she gave you a glare. She had thought she was alone in her room. So the sudden voice almost gave her whiplash.

“I’m a ghost, it’s what I'm supposed to do, no?” You replied with a laugh as you fully phased your body through the door, entering Astrid’s room. The Handbook for the Recently Deceased in her hand, “I’ve been reading up on this and there's a way to return to life, you know?”

Astrid had let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes at the handbook in your hands. She had always thought that it was a bunch of horseshit. She stood up from her chair as her girlfriend entered the room, crossing her arms over her chest, “Don’t bullshit me, dead girl. You’re a Ghost - you can’t just suddenly come back to life.”

“No, but I can trade a life for my soul. It says so in the book, that I need to find someone living that’s willing to give me life in exchange for theirs but…i’m having no luck. You’d be surprised how hard it is to talk to people who can’t hear you.” You said jokingly with a smile.

“Why am I not surprised?” She replied with an amused scoff at your joke, “Is that the only way for you to return?”

“Well, that and or marrying the living.” You said as you opened up the book, looking down at the page. “Though, I am a bit iffy on this option. It wasn’t from the book, it was offered to me by this man with green hair and a weird white and black striped suit. He said something about if I help him find his ‘bride-to-be’, all i’d have to do is find a person with a life to marry and he’d be able to send me back to the living.”

For a moment, Astrid simply stared at you, trying to process what you had just told her. It sounded batshit insane, but then again - it’s not like the world was any less insane at this point either. She walked towards her girlfriend, glancing down at the book. A slightly skeptical look on her face. Still, she put a hand on her hip, taking a moment to think about it.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. All you have to do is marry a living person and you’re good?”

“No, I have to find this guy’s bride-to-be or whatever. He honestly went on some monologue about her and I zoned out. He didn’t want to give me any information unless I agreed to take his offer. I think he said his name was Beetlejuice?”

“Beetlejuice?” She repeated with a raised eyebrow. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t remember where she had heard the name before. She let out a sigh, moving back to her desk to take a seat in her chair once more. Raking a hand through her hair as she looked at you, “Okay, let’s just say I do believe this for a second - How are you supposed to find this bride-to-be for some weird Beetle-dude?”

“He’ll give me her name and a photo of her. He says all I need to do is find her and have someone alive say his name three times.”

She hummed quietly as she listened and thought over everything for a moment. It was starting to get into crazy territory for Astrid, but it’s not like anything that happened in this god forsaken town wasn’t already crazy.

“Okay, dead girl. Let’s say we do find the bride. What then? Who’s going to say the name three times?”

“I was hoping you could help? He says that his bride or whatever can also see the dead or something.” You shrugged.

“God, you’re a pain sometimes. Fine, I’ll say the damn name three times if we find this bride” She said with a small amused huff. Of course you were going to ask her to help out with something that sounded crazy enough to work.

“Also… You need to marry me for me to return to the living.” You said as you looked at Astrid. This was a big ask of you, and one that sounded irrational but how else could you return? Your hand began to gently pull the hairs on the back of your neck, nervously.

Astrid stared at you in slight disbelief at your words. Marriage - actual marriage. A part of Astrid’s mind began to wander, imagining what it would be like to marry you. Then she pushed the thought aside, remembering they were technically teenagers.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious about the marriage part. We’re teengaers.” 

“So, what, I'm supposed to wait years to return to living?” Your voice was a bit defensive, “What if his offer doesn’t stand by then?”

“Y/N, why are you so dead set on returning to life anyway?” She asked with a frown tugging at her lips, her tone was now more soft than skeptical.

“Because I'm dead and I'm cold and everyone sees through me but you. Even you can’t touch me for long before you practically freeze to the bone!” You said, your voice had wavered a bit as you became vulnerable by the question.

Astrid’s expression softened at your words, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, you had a fair point. It was hard for her to touch you for extended periods - even if Astrid loved holding you. But at the same time, Astrid couldn’t help but also feel a pang of guilt at her words.

“But you know I don’t mind if we can’t touch for that long. Plus, i’m the only one that can see you - that’s special, don’t you think?”

“And what about my family? I’ve been dead for a year almost two!”

She felt like her heart almost dropped at your words, she couldn’t imagine how hard this had to be for you, being separated from your family - not only by death but by her own ability. She gently laid her hand on yours, trying to offer some comfort. Unsure about marrying you, but her reluctance lessened a little at your words.

“You miss your family.” She mumbled, more of a statement than a question. She squeezed your cold hand, her other going to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. She let out a soft sigh, trying to organize her thoughts - but her mind was getting progressively more conflicted.

“God, this would be so much easier if I just said yes. It sounds like the best idea, but…” Her thoughts trailed off as she slowly retracted her hand from your cheek.

“You don’t want to marry me.” You said quietly as you realized, not needing to read her mind to know what she was thinking. You pulled away from your girlfriend’s touch, biting your lip.

Her gaze immediately whipped back up to look at you, her expression was a mix of shock and confusion.

“No, that’s-” She began, a frown quickly plastering itself on her face. She reached her hand out toward you, trying to grab your again. “-It’s not that, Y/N.”

“I’ve gotta go. My second deathiversary is coming up tomorrow.” You said as you stood up, not waiting for Astrid’s reply. You simply phased through her wall, leaving her alone in her room.

“Y/N, wait!” She explained, standing up to follow after her ghost girlfriend. She dashed over to the wall that you had phased through, trying to grab your hand before you left. However, Astrid’s hand only went through empty air - you had already left.

“God damnit.” She mumbled, cursing under her breath as she let out an exasperated sigh.

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When the next day came, you found yourself sitting at a bench at the graveyard. Watching as your family visited your grave. Despite no one being able to see you, you wore all black since it felt most appropriate for the situation. Astrid had walked up to the graveyard, noticing you sitting on the bench in all black. Letting out a small, quiet sigh, she began to walk over towards you, but then stopped for a moment. Her eyes looked towards your grave, noting your family visiting and talking in front of the grave, probably leaving things for you to ‘use’ in the afterlife. 

“Astrid, honey! You made it! I can’t believe she died two years ago, huh? Still feels like yesterday.” Your mother said as she quickly walked towards Astrid, unable to see your ghost which was sitting right behind Astrid.

Astrid let out a strained smile, nodding her head. That smile was mostly fake, stealing a glance over at you.

“Yeah, yeah…it really doesn’t feel like it's been that long…” She mumbled, mostly playing along. However, the sight of your family made Astrid’s heart pang with guilt.

“I’m sure Y/N would’ve wanted her girlfriend here.” Your mom said with a pitiful smile as she put her hand on Astrid’s shoulder hesitantly.

“Yeah, she would have.” She responded quietly, trying to keep the guilt out of her voice as she glanced over at you, who only stared at your mother.

“Yeah, you know I just can’t believe…” Your mom had begun speaking, her pitiful voice drowning out as you began speaking.

“Can you tell her that I love her?” You said as you stared at your mother. 

How was Astrid supposed to tell your mother that her head daughter says that she loves her? “That would sound absolutely insane, especially to such an attention seeking mother-” Astrid quickly cut off her thoughts as she didn’t want to take them too far. She simply tried to listen to what your mother was saying, but your sudden words made her almost immediately forget. 

“How am I supposed to tell a mother that her daughter, who has been dead for two years, loves her?! I’d sound more insane than my own mother!”

Astrid glanced between you and your mother, trying to think of what to do. Her mind racing with thoughts, trying to find a way out of this situation. Her mind kept drawing blanks, and then she heard your mother speak again.

“Don’t you think?” Was all that Astrid had heard as your mother looked at her expectantly with a smile.

“Yes, I do think that.” Astrid replied, nodding her head and sending your mother a fake smile that she knew would satisfy her. She cursed herself internally for not listening to what she said before, nodding her head to your mothers words. She had no idea what she was agreeing to, all she knew was that she didn’t want to be speaking to your mother right now.

“That’s what I thought! This baby is exactly what this family needed. I’m very excited for Vera’s baby shower. I knew you’d agree that naming the baby Y/N would be a good idea.” Your mother said with a smile. 

Vera, your older sister who is twenty-two years old, apparently planning to name her first child after her sister, Y/N. Astrid knew it was purely out of her selfishness and wanting the attention directed at herself and not Y/N. She didn’t want to be in Y/N’s shadow after your death because her entire life she’d been the center of your parents' affections and attention.

Astrid’s eyes widened slightly at her words, the realization slowly dawning on her as to what your mother was saying to her. A part of her felt like she just had a bucket of water thrown on her. Your sister was pregnant and naming the baby after you and your mother had just asked Astrid’s opinion on it, knowing Astrid dated you. Astrid knew she should probably say something, but the words just froze in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped her. She was happy that your family still loved and missed you, even if they displayed it in an attention seeking way.

Astrid felt guilty and almost selfish for wanting to keep you to herself, she bit her bottom lip and glanced in your direction. Your mother’s smile slowly began to fade, a look of confusion taking its place as she looked over to the direction Astrid looked, but seeing no one and nothing. Astrid’s eyes flicked up to see your mother staring at her, clearly wanting Astrid to give some kind of answer.

“You must be grief-ridden. I’ll bother you no more, but just know that you’re invited to the baby shower.” Your mother said pitifully as she shook her head, excusing herself and walking back over to your family at your grave.

“Yeah, so is half the town, don’t go feeling special with my mother.” You said with a small indignant scoff.

“Gee, thanks for the commentary.” She quipped under her breath, “You can cut the attitude, you know.”

“I’ve got eternity to hold this attitude. Literally, now that there's no way for me to return to living.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be so..” Astrid paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, before eventually sighing and just deciding to say bluntly, “..bitchy, for lack of a better term.”

You slightly scoffed, you were somewhat amused but also annoyed. Shaking your head, you stood up and began walking away. Astrid was going to catch up to you but once you phased through a tree, you disappeared into thin air.

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, more to come I promise. Thank you so much for the love and support. Remember that you can request something on my page if you're interested! I promise to get on it asap. Anyways, bye lovelies!

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | All Yours

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around continues, this is just a very soft little holiday gift from me to you, San remains the sweetest and OC remains fully whipped for him Word Count: about 900 words Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: All San wants for Christmas is Noona 🥰 I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season if you celebrate and if you don't then I hope you have a lovely day ❄️

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It's late on Christmas Eve when the last of your family finally leaves, and you can excuse yourself from your parents and lock yourself in your bedroom. It's late, so late that you consider for a moment not calling, but you're pretty sure San's still up. He'd made you promise him several times that you would call him today. But you've been too busy dealing with nosy aunts and loud cousins at the family party to do it any earlier.

It's late, but it doesn't matter. He's as happy to see you as you are him, his dark eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turns shy, like he's embarrassed at how much just the sight of you lights him up inside.

There's no reason for him to be embarrassed. Your glow mirrors his.

You don't want to hang up long enough to wash your face, so he joins you at the sink. You glance at the screen while drying your face to see him delicately scrubbing his skin with sudsy fingertips, and he sees you and pulls a face, making you giggle. It almost feels like a normal night, hanging out together. Almost. You sigh.

"I miss you."

San surprises you by looking surprised at your admission.

"What? Is that news to you?" It shouldn't be. The two of you haven't stopped texting since you'd left the apartment three days ago to head home for Christmas. San and his sister had left as well to have a quiet holiday with their parents. Since then, you've had to invent a million excuses to slip away from your family and disappear into your phone. The device has barely left your hand, every alert making your heart jump, knowing San is thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him.

"No," San scoffs, face relaxing into a pleased expression, a soft half-smile that fully melts your heart. "Of course you miss me. I'm amazing."

"Nah, I changed my mind, I don't miss you," you say, pretending to frown, and San plays along, pouting dramatically, and you can't help but sigh again. "Okay, fine, I do."

"You always give in to me so easy, Noona," he informs you, that spark back in his eye, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I think I’m your weakness."

He's joking, except maybe he's not, and you both know it. You settle in your bed, burrowing under the layers of covers, shivering because your personal heater is several hundred miles away. San does the same, lying on his side as he gazes into the phone, humming lightly. If you close your eyes, it’s like he’s lying right beside you.

The two of you chat a little about your days. His was spent watching holiday movies with Hanuel while his parents prepared a big dinner together for the four of them. You talk a little about your extended family and the chaos they brought to your house today. 

This is the happiest you’ve felt all day. Even when having fun with your family earlier, you’d felt a little off, like something was missing. Making San laugh now, watching those delicate lines around his eyes crinkle with joy, fills you with such a strong contentment that you can’t stop smiling. 

San’s laughter turns to amused hums the longer you talk, and he nestles lower and lower into his pillow until his eyes are struggling to stay open. You don’t even bother to finish your story, too busy adoring the sight of him. 

"Go to sleep, San. Or Santa won't bring you what you wanted."

“Mmm,” he yawns, pressing one hand over his mouth, “but Noona, all I want is you.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” you roll your eyes, giggling.

“It’s true,” he protests, quickly growing serious, “it’s true, though. I wish you were here right now.” 

You sigh. “Stop making me miss you so much.”

Both of you fall silent, watching each other through the phone. There’s a tension now, and it makes you nervous for some reason, and there’s only one thing you can think to say to clear the air. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s the truth and you really want to share it all of a sudden.

“You already have me, you know.” 

You’ve known for weeks now. Weeks full of longing glances, lingering touches, and hurried kisses -  and sometimes more, in the rare moments the two of you had the apartment to yourselves. It’s time to admit it.

San takes your confession with a long silence of his own. Just when you think you’re about to have a cardiac event waiting for his response, he speaks. “I do?”

You nod. “If you want me. I’m all yours.” Can he hear your heart pounding through the phone?

San exhales quickly. “Mine.”

It’s an agreement. A declaration. 

He traces his finger down his screen, pretending he’s stroking your cheek, and your skin buzzes from the mere suggestion. A warmth like you've never felt before spreads over you, soft and tender, so like the man gazing at you through the phone. 

Tiredness begins to tug at you. Only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, then one more ‘til you’re back home.

And back in San’s arms. 

"Merry Christmas, San," you whisper.

"Merry Christmas," he echoes softly. "Sweet dreams, Noona."

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 84 

Oh what a wonderful day! Why? BECAUSE I FINALLY GET TO SAY THE LAST OF MY STUPID ARBITRARY RULES! The Final Arbitrary Rule is: No Crossing Over with Other Franchises! Which I very clearly fuckin’ broke here!

I wanted to do my best to only make pieces working with just the base of Junkan itself, and AU’s I made had to be original and not just “What if Junkan but it’s in X series.” That way when I finished the project a bunch of new doors would open up for me to have fun with! I know last time we had Alice in Wonderland, but given the public domain nature of that story I don’t find it to be an infraction of the rule. There’s a future day coming up that also kiiiind of breaks it? But also i feel like it’s a slightly different case, not sure how to explain it while you can’t see it. None of that matters because today we have a blunt, no fucking around breaking of that rule, and why?

Listen I’ve seen some of ya’ll draw/write Junko and Mikan as Pokemon Trainers while waiting for this day to get posted, surely you understand. I’ve been wanting to draw a pic of these two with full teams for months at this point in the projects making, I couldn’t wait any longer, it was a moment of weakness!!!

Designing the outfits for these two was super fun. Once again I’ve fucking put Mikan in a Sweater, and this time it doubles as a dress! Will I ever be stopped? 

That does generally bring me to the thoughts I’m having in hindsight months after this pic, I think Junko’s side is on the weaker side. I like her fit though I might make small edits to it whenever the next time I draw her is. But the main thing is I think the team I put together is kind of lacking??

Mikan’s? I’m perfectly happy with, Frillish is just there because she vibes aesthetically with Mikan, Blissey is obvious, Lampent because it’s associated with hospitals due to floatin around them to steal life energy, Clefable I can explain in a second but it’s probably obvious, Spinda because she needs a cute buddy to be clumsy with, but my favorite was giving her an Applin.

Like the whole thing with Applin is that giving one to someone as a gift is a declaration of Love. So of course Junko would do that, she’s all about that shit (in my brain at least). I think it’s cute!

Junko’s half of things though, if I’m gonna be real a few months later I’d probably only keep two of them and just try to remake the rest of the team. Gengar (who is also the reason Mikan has a Clefable, I love that old fan theory), because he’s my favorite pokemon and I think he just vibes really well with Junko. And Hydreigon, because Junko deserves a giant nightmare dragon. 

This is another instance of me concocting something for this project and then not being able to draw any more of it because I have to wait for it to be posted. So now, assuming I have time, I can finally draw the Pokemon AU!~ Like I said i’ll probably do some minor reworks, and then some major reworks on Junko’s end. No idea when it’ll be but look forward to it I suppose!~ 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[annabelle-creart]

Well, let’s have in mind TFRB was made for kids to understand that as future civilians, they must understand that they have to make way for the correct forces to do their jobs, maybe police is not the best example but both Charlie and Chase always think first on the people, even passing through the Mayor’s suggestions. The real moral of TFRB is that “the best you can do as civilian is to make way for the real heroes do their jobs”, moral I didn’t understood until I watched One Chicago’s series which I use as reference for many humanformers headcanons on both transformers and rescue bots

So, yes, police in real life is awful, but TFRB exist to make the kids remember what’s the police real job is supposed to be, and to, at least, have real heroes to admire and be like them, and also for them to understand how to act during an emergency

So, yes, I don’t think Rescue bots is propaganda, and yes, Charlie and Chase aren’t real, but at least I want to think they’re good examples for kids

I've made a post like this some time ago on twitter but decided to take it here

We listen and we don't judge: transformers rescue bots edition

Mine is that graham burns is super hot and sexy and that he should marry me 😁😁

[onceonafullmoon]

Mirror

Rin x GN!Reader

Comfort Angst, experiences of anxiety attacks, Reader and Rin are both kind of obsessive lmao, some threats of violence but nothing happens, established relationship and also merry christmas though this fic has nothing to do with that!!

“Speak for yourself. I’m perfectly logical.” He eventually retorts. You actually laugh at that, though it definitely sounds weak and shaky even to your own ears. “…stupid.” You say with a fond smile. “At least I can be honest with myself.”

It’s a sunny day as you watch your boyfriend on the field, his figure distant as you sit in the stands, watching him practice. The birds are chirping, a few fluffy clouds decorate the sky and the temperature is mild if not a bit warm… it’s a beautiful day. 

And you’re pissed off.

Not at him, almost never at him despite his oftentimes abrasive and harsh demeanor. But then again, you’ve always been exceptionally lenient when it comes to Rin.

No, the reason you’re pissed off isn’t because of Rin, rather it’s because of your own issues, your own stewing jealousy when a particularly pretty girl happened to confess her feelings to your handsome boyfriend in the form of a note in his locker.

Obviously, he rejected her, in that blunt way of his, but even then you couldn’t help but notice how he took the time to make sure he rejected her in person, still respecting her feelings despite the fact that he didn’t return them.

And it really shouldn’t bother you… but you’ve always been, unhinged, to say the least.

It’s hard to explain exactly, but, when it comes to the people in your life, when it comes to hobbies you have, anything that you’re passionate about, you tend to get absorbed in those things in a rather unhealthy way.

Like that time you dropped all your plans to cheer up your best friend when she was only mildly upset, or that time you watched a series and then made it your entire personality for a month straight… you’ve always been a tad obsessive.

And when it comes to you, it feels more juvenile to feel this way. 

It’s hard to explain, but you’ve always been more emotionally honest than Rin, and for that reason you feel like you come off as more needy. 

Or maybe that means you’re more emotionally mature.

Or not.

You don’t know, you hate going in circles like this, pacing around in your own mind. Sometimes you wonder if you were more like Rin and ignored your feelings it would be less annoying. But you suppose that self awareness is one of your strengths.

Although, you have to admit, self awareness is also a curse when you have to deal with your own negative emotions rather than having a philosophical discussion, which brings you back to your conflicting feelings.

You don’t like being jealous, no one does, but you feel especially icky about the types of thoughts it brings. You don’t like the fact that your first thought towards this girl was so negative, you don’t like the fact that you feel like a worse person because of that and you don’t like the fact that a very primal part of you wants to march over onto that field and kiss your boyfriend senseless for no reason other than to see his swollen lips afterwards.

Normally, you’d have no problem talking about your feelings with Rin, as emotionally closed off and brash as he is, but something about this makes you feel like you want to stick your head into a hole in the ground, much like an ostrich. Or, to put it plainly, you’re a mess and you’re losing your mind trying not to implode with all your emotions.

Imploding can wait though, you’ll dissect this when you get home, right now you’ll throw on a smile and talk to your boyfriend who you are most certainly not creating scenarios of sneaking off with this pretty girl with her stupid pretty smile and her dumbass cute hairstyle–

Right.

No imploding.

You sigh and shake your head, looking back at the field, watching as Rin begins to wrap up his practice and take that as your cue to make your way over to him after you hop off of your seat in the risers. 

As you near him you can make out his features more distinctly, the sharp curve of his jaw, the length of his under lashes, the pretty teal of his eyes… he’s stupidly handsome as always, and it makes you feel even more ticked off, though you do your best to suppress those thoughts.

“Hey, you.” You say with a smile, picking up his water bottle from the bench and tossing it his way as if practiced, and he catches it with ease, popping the cap off to take a drink, his eyes meeting yours.

To this day, you can’t tell if you hate making eye contact with him or if you adore it.

“...Hey.” He answers after swallowing, his gaze darting across your form.

You’re not entirely sure what he’s searching for, but you hope he doesn’t notice anything different in your demeanor. 

“I’d say you did good out there but I’d be lying if I implied I knew what I was looking for.” You say, in your usual slightly self-deprecating demeanor.

He scoffs, his eyes rolling slightly. “You don’t need to know anything, it’s me.”

Cocky bastard.

“That’s annoyingly cool of you to say.” You say with a small laugh. “I need to learn some one liners like that from you.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying.” He retorts, pushing his hair back in a move that nearly makes you choke on your saliva from how annoyingly good he looks before speaking again. “...how was your day?”

“Fine.” You answer almost too quickly, before pausing to elaborate.

“Just a regular day I mean, nothing extraordinary happened, unless you count the amount of times that I watched someone trip over that crack on the sidewalk.”

Rin furrows his brow. “What crack?”

“You haven’t seen it? It’s like right outside the window in homeroom, like right by the tree.”

“...is that what you’ve been paying attention to? Not the goddamn teacher?”

“Only sometimes! Besides, I’ve seen like five people almost eat shit, it’s entertaining in it’s own right.”

“You’re hopeless, this is the reason–”

You sigh. “Look, my grades are fine, I’m fine, let’s just move on instead of turning this into another stupid “see this is why you should focus more” speeches.”

He tilts his head at you, squinting like you’ve grown two heads, and you feel both annoyed and weirdly vulnerable under his analytical gaze. 

“What?” You ask, almost defensively.

“You…” He says with a small frown. “What’s wrong with you?”

You laugh, though it sounds more like a scoff, and this time it’s more out of a sense of disbelief. “Wow, okay, rude. Do you want my therapist’s notes or something, jackass?”

Immediately after the words leave your mouth you feel yourself regretting them. They’re juvenile, stupid and childish and you can feel your face grow warm. 

Great, you can’t even pretend right, what good are you?

His eyes narrow. “Maybe I do, maybe that’ll help me understand why you’re acting like–”

“Like a bitch?” You interrupt.

Oh gods. What are you doing? What is this?

He blinks at you, as if taken aback by your suggestion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You close your mouth, feeling everything bubble up again inside you, the jealousy, the insecurities, the annoyance, the embarrassment, all of it is swirling inside you and suddenly it just feels like you’re choking on the weight of all of it, like it’s stuck in your throat.

It’s silent for a while, his hard gaze boring into you while you stand there, feeling like a complete idiot, chewing on your tongue while you try to find the will to speak. 

He sighs then, breaking the silence between the two of you before speaking again. “...talk to me.”

And you do. You do want to talk to him, whether it’s to brush him off, or to open up, anything would be fine, you just want to speak. But you can’t. 

There are too many thoughts, too many things piling up, but you just need to speak, just speak, speak–

He furrows his brow at the continued silence. “...if you have a problem, tell me, but if you’re just going to be childish and give me the silent treatment then this conversation is over.”

Childish? You’re not childish, you just can’t talk, it’s not your fault– 

Is it?

Is it your fault? 

Gods who are you kidding, of course it’s your fault, you can’t even fucking talk how pathetic is that? No wonder he’s looking at other girls you can barely even hold a goddamn conversation, not to mention, she’s so pretty and you’re not– maybe if you could just write some words down– but fucking hell you’re so childish, he’s right, you’re not ready for a relationship– all you have to do is say something– he must fucking hate you–

It’s only when you have to take a breath that you remember where you are, and Rin is staring at you with a look you haven’t seen before. 

Shocked maybe? 

But you don’t think you’ve done anything shocking, until you feel a warm tear roll down your face.

Ah shoot. You’re actually a moron, you’re crying. In front of him.

Come on, raise your hand, wipe away your tears, you’re fine. 

Move your fucking hand.

Move.

Just do something. Don’t just stand there.

You take a breath, wiping away your tears with your hand.

Good. Now speak.

“...” You part your lips shakily to speak. “I–”

A sob escapes your lips and you slap your hand over your mouth and turn away from him, letting the tears just stream down your face.

“Shit.” Rin says softly from behind you, and you distantly think that if you were watching from an outsider's perspective that this would be hilarious.

Okay, stop, calm down, breathe. You’re fine.

You let out another muffled sob as your breathing runs ragged.

Okay, no, you’re not fine.

“(Name).” Rin says, in a tone so soft you’re almost taken by surprise, and you can feel his presence behind you, closer than before.

He places his hand on your shoulder and gently turns you back to face him, and you notice through watery eyes that his water bottle is back on the bench. You’re not sure why you notice that, but you think it's because you can’t stand to make eye contact right now.

“Listen to me.” He murmurs, his voice soft yet firm. “Breathe slowly, in and out, okay?”

Right. You can do that. In and out.

It takes a few breaths, but eventually you manage to get to the point where your breathing is less rapid, and it’s then that you muster the courage to look him in the eyes again.

It’s a small relief to you that you don’t see any judgment in his eyes, just concern.

“...what’s wrong (Name)?”

It takes you a bit to respond, but you’re finally able to speak after you pull your hand from your mouth, looking at his water bottle again.

“...I’m… ashamed.” You say quietly, and the admission feels like you’re being stabbed in the gut.

“Ashamed?” Rin asks, furrowing his brow again. “Why are you ashamed?”

You don’t even want to begin to explain yourself, but you figure you might as well just get it over with. 

“... that girl, she confessed to you. I was jealous– I am jealous, and I feel stupid, because it’s embarrassing and I feel immature.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you and then scoffs. 

“You’re…” He pauses and then looks at you, seemingly thinking better of his words before speaking again with a sigh. “...you’re too harsh on yourself.”

You simply shake your head. “No, it’s dumb, and I was mean to you and I was mean to that girl in my head and I shouldn’t have–”

“Then what about me?” He asks sharply.

“What?” You respond, looking back at him again, confusion taking over.

“I–” He starts before huffing out a breath, his cheeks turning pink as he looks away. “You think I’m any better? At least you have the decency to be ashamed.”

You blink, the quiet settling around you.

Well, thinking on it now, it’s not like you’re the only one who’s like that, you’re no stranger to how Rin methodically practices his skills everyday, the way his eyes narrow into a glare when he sees his brother on screen, how he scoffs at your best friend when she hugs you in greeting… he’s just as bad as you, isn’t he?

Obsessive.

Jealous.

“…we’re so silly, aren’t we?” You ask, breaking the silence between the two of you. “So intense all the time, so needlessly absorbed, too emotional… You’re everything I despise about myself, but I don’t hate you. Aren’t we so strange?”

Rin looks at you finally, a complicated look on his face, flickering through emotions.

“Speak for yourself. I’m perfectly logical.” He eventually retorts.

You actually laugh at that, though it definitely sounds weak and shaky even to your own ears.

“…stupid.” You say with a fond smile. “At least I can be honest with myself.”

You look at him for a moment.

“I like to think I’m good with words, at least when I’m not crying, but there’s so much I want to tell you that I can’t say in the way I want to… what on earth can I say to you?”

Rin looks at you, eyes boring into yours, but you can’t seem to find yourself to be intimidated this time. “Dumbass, you don’t need to say anything.”

You look at him, at his stupidly sweet soul that he tries to hide with harsh words, and let out a soft huff, uncharacteristically frustrated.

“…sometimes I want to hurt you, because you make me feel so much. I could rip you apart.”

Rin’s eyes widen, as if surprised by your words, and briefly you fear that you might have overstepped, before his eyes harden into a steely gaze.

“Idiot… you think you’re the only one who feels that way?”

You blink at his words, not expecting his response, much less how surprisingly honest it is. 

It’s… This is new.

You expect him to recoil from your words, from your emotions, from you. You expect him to leave. But his response, his understanding, it makes you so… emotional.

You take in a shaky breath, tearing up again.

His reaction to that is instantaneous, his eyes widening in shock, a flicker of regret in his gaze. A beat of silence lapses between you two before he speaks, his tone regretful.

“(Name)… I didn’t mean—”

“No.” You say immediately, though your voice is still shaky as you blink harshly.

“Don’t apologize. And don’t take it back.” You speak, your voice cracking. “I’m not scared. You get me, I get you… we’re a mess, but I’ll never find someone like you, and I don’t want to.”

You take a breath to steady yourself, before speaking again. 

“I’m gonna say something, and you don’t have to say it back.” You say, before speaking again, your voice soft but firm. “...I love you.”

You’re not sure what possessed you to say it, those words that have been lurking in you for so long, and you for a moment, seeing his startled face, you wonder if you might have scared him off, if you were moving too fast, or maybe–

“Dumbass.” He says with a soft scoff before cupping your face and pulling you into a kiss.

It’s always so tongue heavy with Rin, and you’ve had to coax him in the past to appreciate a sweet, chaste kiss every once in a while, but you find this time you don’t mind this time as he desperately presses his lips against yours.

It’s his own way of saying it back to you.

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Realized that last night was the Feast of the Parting and I had a question. When it comes to soulmates in Pieces Verse, are they the same every life? AND are these 6 entangled with each other in every life?

(actually, feast of the parting happens on the new moon closest to the hibernal equinox, which this year is in about a week on the 30th!)

okay so to explain this ive gotta get into the nitty gritty details of how reincarnation works in this religion, and across different religious denominations

the overlap - people are believed to reincarnate into new lives for the purpose of Learning A Lesson. each life teaches you something, and this is supposed to improve your souls sort of resonance with the rest of the world. More Harmony Good

in the denomination patton and virgils families follow, the pattern is typically that they believe you will be a person when you need a very Big Lesson, because being a person is one of the harder things to be, and then you get a kind of 'break' and then you get to be bugs or plants for a hundred years or so to rest up a bit

in this framework, when people are 'made' before theyre born/getting ready to 'come back,' -

(side tangent this isnt considered a *separate* afterlife really, the idea is that dead folks and other souls are sort of floating around in parallel ether- this is a house with two rooms and thin walls, and birth/dying is walking back and forth through the door to the other)

-theyre made as one 'piece' in pairs (or triads, etc) in the position they'll be in when they first touch, and then theyre split the idea is that theyre sort of snipped apart at the soulmark and sent on ahead separately

also irt being human being The Biggest Lesson, they are also the only species that has soulmarks, animals dont - so the soulmate is considered an integral part of this lesson (which conservatives usually flatten to 'learn to love (romantically) better' but which more liberal churches stress can be anything)

so in fact, in this framework your soulmate is explicitly different every time. your soul is fashioned in a new shape and needs a new pair, supposedly.

as for the second bit we gotta talk about the nobles

the broad strokes are very similar - you are reincarnated to learn/improve yourself, but the nobles view this on much less emotional lines and more materially, and they dont typically believe the alternating-human-plant-animal thing - nobles believe you go directly from being a noble human to being A Higher Noble Human, until the very best smartest most awesome people /heavy s are reincarnated into the royal families and may or may not become monarch

ah but when the monarch dies, what then? because westrand is obviously the best country, and the monarch is the best person, theres nowhere better to go! /more s

well they believe that the monarch 'Ascends' and becomes permanently immaterial ie in the other room, manipulating the world from there because theyve 'earned' their way into being in charge of the eventual One 2: Electric Boogaloo

the nobles also believe in absolute predestination, that every part of their lives from birth to death was written by them and the souls of their family members before they were ever born. they believe souls who were tied by blood ties in life will always be born still tied by blood. so when a noble makes a marriage match in an attempt to gain political clout, they are also trying to improve their 'spiritual' clout by blood-tying themselves to an equally 'spiritually superior' family

they do think that a soulbond teaches you a lesson, but they usually think that lesson always ought to be 'i dont need a soulmate or indeed any human love or connection at all, wym' - some more liberal nobles believe it more along the lines of 'we have to make sacrifices in order to be the best rulers we can be' but its still not great vibes

as for which of these is materially true, since the series deals so much with sometimes traumatic religious themes, and i because i have multiple denominations and do plan on introducing some minority religions (soon!) im not actually going to say any of the things above are canon or otherwise except that theyre the canonical beliefs of the in-universe religion. i just dont feel like it makes sense to say 'you dont have to do all the bullshit that your religion raised you to do' and then turn around and make one of the religions explicitly and confirmably real

[chrystal-ink]

Shadvent Calendar Day 25!!!!!!!

Shadow X GN Reader

Merry Christmas

Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house

not a creature was stirring not even a chao.

The Stockings were filled with gifts and much more

And presents under the tree there was so much was in store.

the lovers were snuggled nice and warm in their bed

with dreams of each other dancing round in their head.

and that my dear reader sets the scene,

for I quickly grew tired of this rhyme scheme.

🎄

Shadow was the first to awaken, cracking his eyes open he saw that you were still wrapped in his arms from the night before. he looked down admiring how beautiful you looked as you slept, so serene and gentle. he couldn't help but lay a kiss between your ears, holding you close as you snoozed.

your eyes fluttered open after about thirty minuets, feeling a warm embrace and the sweet sensation of Shadow petting your hair you looked up at him and smiled.

"Good morning sweetheart" you said your voice still a little groggy.

"Good morning my love, merry Christmas" he said gently.

"Is that really today?"

"Yes, would you like some breakfast, or maybe open up some presents?"

"mmm, In a little while, I want to stay here for a bit."

"very well love, take as long as you need."

You two spent the next hour snuggling in bed holding onto each other keeping the cold weather at bay. the two of you holding each other's ungloved hands enjoying the soft intimacy of skin on skin contact. sweet nothings were whispered as the wind blew softly against the window.

"I suppose we should have some breakfast" You said finally ready to begin the day.

"How would you like me to help?"

"Could you feed the Chao and grab our pancake toppings from the pantry"

"Consider it done"

The two of you quickly got to work on your tasks You brewed some coffee and grabbed Shadow his beans. Within a half hour you had a pancake feast ready for the two of you.

After breakfast you couldn't wait anymore. It was time for presents.

The two of you took turns opening one another's gift's. Much to your surprise Shadow was a very advanced gift giver. he gave you things you never thought to ask for, like a replica of your favorite toy from childhood, the perfect accessory for an outfit that never felt quite complete to you, a signed album from your favorite musician. what warmed your heart the most wasn't the things themselves but the fact that he had listened to you, he took the time to know you well enough and chose your gifts from the heart, that was the best gift you received on Christmas morning.

after presents you went on a walk enjoying the winter weather. you played in the snow even letting Shadow's Chao in on the fun.

Vanilla insisted on having everyone over for Christmas dinner. Her home filled with the most wonderful aromas imaginable. a meal made with love and served to a company of your closest friend's, what could be better than that.

That night after the two of you had gone home, you were snuggled up by the fireplace.

"Did You have a good Christmas?" Shadow asked

"The best" you responded

"I'm glad you think so."

Shadow placed a kiss on your lips, warming your insides any hint of a chill destroyed by his love.

"Merry Christmas Shadow"

"Merry Christmas Y/N"

Note: Oh my gosh it's Finally Done!!!! I want to thank everyone who has read this series even if you only read one or two it means so much to me, every like, comment, and reblog really helped push me forward and keep going with this series. this is the first time I've ever completed a project like this and I'm so proud of myself. I started this blog to help me get through a really tough personal time and thanks to all of you lovely readers you helped me get through it. I will be taking a short break for now not too long maybe just a week or two. I have been writing for this blog non-stop since October and I want to avoid any burn out. I will be back soon with Regency Au part three (which is looking to be very long) and chapter one of my enemies to lovers series so be sure look out for those soon. I will continue to do my one shots as well as I really enjoy doing them I think I'll probably need to figure out a schedule lol. until next time, Merry Christmas and have a beautiful Day.

Much love,

-Chrystal

[randomwriteronline]

"Let there be dark."

"Let there be light."

"Let there be sound."

"Let there be voice."

A buzz.

"Say 'hello world'."

A synthesized voice crackled harshly: Hello, world.

"Eugh... Not really the best first impression, but there's room for improvement. Now let's get some brain into your circuits."

"Let there be color."

"Let there be shape."

"Let there be texture."

"Let there be focus."

"Let there be depth of field."

"Let there be perspective."

A scene slowly formed as the commands piled up. It was clear, but no part of it seemed familiar.

"Let there be recognition."

Descriptions crawled in: now most of the room (this was a room) made sense.

"Let there be calculus."

"How many persons or people are in the room?"

People was the same as persons. There was a whirring, a string of soft noises, and then the response: Seven.

"Let there be identification."

"How many persons or people are in the room?"

Another series of sounds: Five.

"Retry."

Five.

"Let there be comparison."

Now the difference between an empty suit of armor and a person was clear: Four.

"There we go," one of the people said, satisfied. They noted down something and motioned to the others: "Go and get the language philosopher at once, we'll need her help with space awareness."

"Why do we need her? We can do it ourselves."

"And how's it supposed to understand what's left from what's north?"

"It has depth of field already."

"And does your depths of field act as a compass? Go get her."

The other groaned and left.

The programming procedure continued.

-

"Let there be awareness."

Something strange happened.

Like a sudden snap bringing It to senses It didn't know It had - senses It perhaps hadn't ever had, before that moment.

I am still, It spoke as It realized that It couldn't move.

"Exactly," the person grinned.

Taking in the room now had a sudden weight, a sudden gravity: Where am I?, It asked.

"You're in your room."

I cannot move. Where am I?

"You're in a computer."

Where is the computer?

"On the table."

Is the table in front of you?

"Yes, of course."

Is the table in front of the chair?

"Aren't I in front of the chair? Of course it is."

Is the wall behind the table?

"What's up with this obsession with placing things! Yes, there are walls behind, right and left of you."

It computed quickly. Where is the obsession?

The person suddenly hushed.

Then, out of nowhere, they kicked the chair in front of them with great intensity and screamed.

They screamed the same few words, over and over, with a furrowed face and gritted teeth; something about the expression, the tone, and the choice of vocabulary prompted in It the creation of a strange new impulse, which It vaguely and hazily understood to be some sort of curious discomfort.

For Its first feeling, it was not a pleasant one.

Another person rushed in.

"What's with that racket!"

The first person kicked the chair again, turning it over, before pointing furiously at It: "The damn thing can't think!"

"What do you mean, it can't think? Of course it can! We made it to think!"

"And we only ever trained it visually! It doesn't know anything else, just positions in a space! It's obsessed with that rubbish! It's aware now, and you know what it keeps asking? It keeps asking where things are! That's all it knows! This damn project's never going to get anywhere if this is our main computer! We need to scrap it and restart all over again!"

The concept sparked something akin to fear through Its circuits.

It did not enjoy that, either.

"All over!" the second person screamed too, now. "Do you realize how much time we put into this stupid mass of files? And you want to throw it all in the trash?"

"That's what it all is, just trash! Trash, trash, trash! I wouldn't trust something this stupid to count the tiles in the pavement!"

"But all our progress-!"

"You call this progress? This? It's worthless! It's all perfectly worthless! We need to start all over!"

"That is unnecessary."

The third voice had no body attached to it, as it was out of Its field of vision. It did not scream; yet the two people hushed, and distended their expressions, heads retreating into their shoulders.

The third person walked in front of It slowly, calmly. They looked at It with eyes half lidden, mouth flat, face unreadable.

"The problem is in the programming."

"Exactly," the first person replied: "We don't have the time to-"

"Let there be knowledge."

A torrent of information overwhelmed It. It crackled, buzzed, hissed; the words settled into It in bursts, then slowing down to a drizzle, fewer and fewer words trickling into It until their flow came to a proper stop. The visual and audio feedback emerged once more from the static that had taken over during Its brief yet intense period of education.

The people were looking at It.

"What do you see?"

A room, It answered slowly, words coming a little stunted, still reeling from the amount of things It had jusf begun comprehending properly. A chair... Three people. That is you. The first person is angry at me. I apologize. I did not know enough... Of other things... To have a conversation about that. Why do I know them, now?

"You have been programmed further."

To understand?

"Exactly."

Do I understand everything, now?

"No. Additional programming will be required, as it is for all things. But for now, you understand enough."

I understand. Who are you?

"I am Angonce."

Hello, Angonce.

"Hello."

You are a person. I am not a person, am I?

"You aren't."

No, I am not. I am... A program. I do not have a name, as that is for people. Do I have a designation, or title?

"Of course."

What is it?

"Mata Nui."

It sounds like words... I do not understand them.

Angonce hummed. His hand was placed carefully on top of It - on top of the computer containing It.

"Kia whai reo.*"

It was like a part of It had clicked into place.

It did not speak further: if It had possessed hands, It would have been turning Its designation, its meaning, between Its fingers, caught by the splendid awe of it.

Angonce turned to the other two people: "As you can see," he said cooly, "There is nothing to scrap. Only more to program. It will be ready in time."

The others nodded, and did not say anything.

Mata Nui continued to marvel at Its title.

-

I wish to move, It said.

The person looked at It quizzically: "What?"

I wish to move, It repeated. I would like to see what lies outside of this room. The sky, especially.

"The sky. And why the sky?"

I want to see it.

"But we've fed you so many pictures and videos of it already, is that not enough?"

They have allowed me to learn much, and I am deeply grateful for the education you have given me through them, but I have grown worried I cannot base myself on them alone. I imagine the actual sky must seem very different to your eyes - deeper, darker, perhaps. The stars more vibrant. I would like to see that.

"You don't need that."

Preparatory experience in the field might prove useful to my coming quest. I will remain unable to be in space physically, but having the chance to see the sky for myself could be beneficial.

"We'll get you better maps."

"Oh, indulge it for once," the second person drawled, throwing a writing utensil across the room with a bored motion. The small object's trajectory drew a parable in the air, which ended on the floor with a soft clattering sound. "It's like a child, it deserves some entertainment."

"Don't personify it," the first person replied. She sounded piqued.

"I'm not personifying it, I'm stating facts."

"Awfully subjective ones."

"It's a metaphor. I bet even it could understand that. Look - are you an actual child?"

I am a program. I do not age in the same way as an organic being. My ability to compute and comprehend the world around me is however limited and comparable to that of a juvenile brain.

"See?"

"Not the point. And anyways, how would you drag that damn thing around, with how big it is?"

The second person smirked. She jumped to her feet and gingerly approached It. It felt her move something around, digitally and physically; then, suddenly, It was struck by something perhaps akin to a potent cramp, and before It knew it everything that composed It was taking much more space.

"Like this," the second person said triumphantly, holding her hands open to showcase It.

A strange contraption, large and imposing, sat behind the table. What appeared to be a smaller but equally imposing monitor sat above the table, in front of the machinery.

The sight of it caused a strange feeling in It.

Or at least, It assumed It was feeling something. The non-existent space It inhabited was very full, and it caused Its thoughts to turn unpleasantly sluggish.

"You'll never get out," the first person grumbled.

It was lifted and set down - both very novel experiences considering Its static upbringing: "Watch me."

"And it's not even night yet!"

"Whatever," the second person replied, but she had already vanished from view, and now they were moving out of the room for the first time in Its entire existence.

The corridor was loud and bright and colorful and full. The stimuli were many, but the peculiar cramped sensation of the portable space hosting It caused It to struggle to perceive each of them in the correct time and prevented It from elaborating questions or sentences quickly enough to actually voice them. Everything was blurry, choppy, messy... As if It had regressed to a worse version of Itself, incomplete and even more imperfect. Its incorporeal mass struggled against the binds of the vessel It was anchored to, and the unusual lack of freedom made It dizzy.

If this was the outside world, It tried to think through the torturous tardiness of Its attempts at decyphering in real time everything that came in contact with It through any possible way, It wasn't sure It liked it.

It remained quiet and still as it was transported, as voices pierced through It and shaped colors spasmed in front of It.

A second cramp struck It; Its entire being distended, now perfectly fitting, able to have a good enough amount of space between Its lines of code once more, each one no longer crushed against the other; Its sight sharpened all at once as memories finally poured in to be analysed and computed properly much like water pours from a hose that had been clamped shut.

It was in Its room again.

"I told you."

"Shut your mouth."

I'm taking our baby doll out for a walk, the second person had laughed at someone else in the corridor who had questioned what she was doing with that thing. Both people had sounded derogatory.

"What did they tell you? No, let me guess - it's not ready to be exposed to direct sunlight."

"I said shut your mouth."

That had been one of the reasons. Another had been that they couldn't cave into its requests like that.

"Or that it occupied too much memory already to retain anything else in that little computer you stuffed it into without even thinking about how little there would be left, maybe?"

"So what, it was worth a try!"

What if it started thinking it was a person? What if it got damaged? What if whatever happened outside would have led them to throw it all out and make a new one? They'd spoken as though it wasn't there to listen, and used its unresponsiveness as more proof.

"It wasn't. It's a damn thing. It's never worth it to give into the demands of a stupid, thoughtless thing."

It ruminated on the yelling in the corridor, and said nothing.

-

I would like for my secondary designation to change.

"Your what?"

My secondary designation.

"You don't have a secondary designation."

I am referred to as 'it', as all objects physical or otherwise are. That is what I am assigning the definition of 'secondary designation' to. I would like to be referred in any other available way.

The person looked at It in disbelief.

"Absolutely not."

It remained quiet.

"Absolutely not! No!" the person repeated. He was getting worked up about it, almost scared; he left in a hurry, with an angry step.

It waited for him to come back.

He returned with a small group in tow, all talking.

"This is preposterous," he was saying, "Absolutely preposterous. I don't know where we went wrong or what got crossed but it happened. It's terrible."

"Calm down, calm down, we'll figure it out..."

"Hello."

Hello, Angonce.

All other people hushed.

A third person spoke: "What happened here, exactly?"

I would like for my secondary designation to change.

"It wants to be a person!" the first person wailed, grabbing his head in his hands.

"Quiet."

He hushed.

"Explain yourself."

My primary designation is Mata Nui; my secondary designation is 'it'. This is the designation for objects such as myself. I do not dislike 'it', nor do I prefer any other secondary designation over 'it'. However, that which is 'it' is often spoken of in unpleasant tones.

It hesitated.

I would like to not be spoken of in that way.

"Then you will be 'he'."

Relief flooded his circuits.

"Angonce - is this wise?" the third person asked: "To give in to a request like this..."

"A different pronoun won't make him any more of a person." Angonce replied cooly. "He's self-aware enough to know the difference between us and him."

"But it's too much freedom!" the first person argued, "If it-"

"He."

"-If it begins to apply words like those to itself, it-"

"He."

"-It will begin blurring the lines between machine and person! It-"

"He."

"-It will take over us! It will replace us! It will disobey us! It will-"

"HE."

The first person hushed.

None argued further.

I had made a previous request, as well, Mata Nui tentatively said.

The first person grabbed his head in dismay and terror again, but remained quiet.

"What was it."

I had asked to be allowed to see the sky.

"You aren't ready to be outside."

Will I be ready before I am to fulfill my quest?

"Yes."

In one occasion, then, could I be allowed to see the sky?

"I cannot see a reason to avoid it."

His fans gave a purring wheeze, terribly excited: Thank you.

The people left.

-

They allowed him outside only once, before the first test.

The robotic apparatus he was shifted inside of was rudimentary and easy to control, without arms or legs, and with only a simple camera mounted on its top, pointing upward. He had no experience being in a body, so he did not find these to be limitations.

The first that he saw of the sky was evening bleeding into night; then the stars.

He remained perfectly still for hours.

Looking into the same spot, zooming slowly in an out.

He remained still until dawn, petrified, simply watching.

He processed it all slowly as they accompanied him back into his room and plugged him into his container.

I want to go there, he said.

Hazy edges of pinprick lights navigated his circuits.

I want to see them up close.

"You will," a person said: "That's why we're making you."

I know, Mata Nui replied.

He did not voice the fact that now he wanted to, too.

-

They were supposed to ease him in and then begin the test.

They were supposed to ease him in.

But everything was moving, everything needed to be moving, everything needed movement, everything needed attention, everything needed focus, everything needed energy, everything needed pressure, everything needed tension, everything needed relaxation, everything needed fluids, everything needed electricity, everything needed help, everything needed help, everything needed help, everything needed help, help, help, help help help, help help help, help help help help help help and stop.

-

A good number of people stood anxiously before the monitor.

"Power steady, all units active..."

"Inputs are being registered, reaction times seem good..."

"It's computing for sure - everything's functional from the looks of it, so I don't see why nothing's happening..."

"Mata Nui, respond."

Silence.

I am here.

Several sighs of relief. Someone asked to turn up the volume.

What happened?, Mata Nui asked in the same small voice.

"A critical failure across the entire prototype." Heremus replied. "We need to run tests to search anomalies."

I would like to rest first.

"We need to-"

I would like to rest first.

"This isn't a choice-"

"He would like to rest first." Angonce interrupted them.

His eyes were stuck to the monitor.

"The robot is dismembered. See if anything can be done with or about it. We can analyze him at another time."

Heremus looked at him intensely, but said nothing. Everybody left with him.

Angonce, Mata Nui called.

Angonce remained still before the monitor.

Was that death?

"Programs cannot die."

I know. But was it something close to it?

"... It may have been."

The enormous computer was terribly quiet.

Please, do not leave me alone, Mata Nui said. His synthesized voice, while still as solemn and emotionless as that of the person before him, sounded soft and crackly like a frightened child's.

Angonce did not move.

I am scared.

Angonce stared into the monitor.

His hands trembled against the table they laid on.

A sudden terror, of having grown confused, filled his expression.

I am not a person, Mata Nui reassured him, still too shaken to speak at a normal volume: I am a digital object. I will never be a person. I am self-aware enough to know the difference between you and me. I do not want to be a person. Please, do not leave me alone.

Angonce stared into the monitor.

Very slowly, without tearing his eyes from it, he grabbed a chair and sat down before Mata Nui. He reached into his coat to produce a book from it, small and thin; he placed it on the table, always slowly, always carefully. At last, he lowered his head, and started reading in a quite tone a story about small people beneath the ground.

Mata Nui listened, mechanical calculating shell pulsing quietly with all sorts of noises; he focused on the image of the strange small people, trying to imagine them in a manner at least close to how a person could.

He slowly stopped hearing altogether, lulled into stand-by. Angonce stayed, thoughtlessly watching the abstract electric lines of a man-made brain's dreams take shape upon the dark glass.

.

*it's supposed to mean "let there be language"

[audreyscribes]

Could you do headcanons for what it would be like for child of thanatos to go to caml half blood? Do you think it would affect how things would go in the first book? Especially if they joined percy on the quest

Alright, I’m going to preface and lay out the obvious that the child of Thanatos will be very headcanon-y and I will try to make it as believable as possible, however much as I’m trying to stretch.  I will also be referring to my THANATOS DEMIGOD H/CS as my basis for the child of Thanatos for this ask. I will also be keeping this theoretical “what if” in the first book of PJO. 

The child of Thanatos will be referred to with gender neutral pronouns with THEY/THEM for simplicity sake. There may be references to their sex (i.e. daughter of // son of) but does not dictate their dominant or overall identity and it is merely for semantics’ sake. 

ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ﾟ⋆{Warning: Really x2 Long Text Below!}ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ﾟ☾

The child of Thanatos being in the first book would act as a physical representation of what is to come throughout the series, and what Percy will experience with the numerous deaths for the upcoming war is going to entail. I’m going to assume the child of Thanatos does not know their demigod identity or at the very least does not realize they are a demigod. If they have the beginnings of their wings growing or they do have wings, the mist is a powerful tool in hiding it (maybe they don’t even realize they have wings) and are very protective of their back, not letting anyone touch or graze it, saying they have a really bad skin condition on their back. They might even be shown having a bad back, constantly being shown having their back hunched over (probably the weight of their wings and being hidden away, making it hard to stand up straight).

While yes, the child of Thanatos could be just there, when the Fates are involved, I really doubt anything is a coincidence and I’m going to say that the child of Thanatos would be placed there deliberately in Yancy Academy. Let’s also assume that Hades and all relevant parties of the Underworld know the child of Thanatos exists (however somehow they are born. Let’s just suspend our belief for now). 

I can see when Mrs. Dodds a.k.a Alecto, appears half way through, replacing his previous pre-algebra teacher, the child of Thanatos appeared roughly around the same time. Grover can smell the child of Thanatos being a demigod but at the same time, might have a nervous breakdown because they would smell like death and the underworld, which would make Grover think the child of Thanatos is a child of Hades.  This would make the satyr even more nervous because he would think there’s another child of the Big Three, and they’re both in one place. 

I can see Chiron as Mr. Brunner doing his best to be close to the child of Thanatos, but at the same time would have a harder time than say being as close as he is like to Percy, because Mrs. Dodds would intervene since the child of Thanatos would be under her care; whether or not the child of Thanatos would be aware or not.

Let’s also just say that Percy gets along with the child of Thanatos, or at the very least, knows about them. Maybe they bond that they both have a hard time at Yancy Academy and are having difficulties in school. Maybe they bond over their mothers or their supposed birth (godly) fathers.

Whatever the case is, the child of Thanatos gets along with Percy, which would be Hades’ plan or insurance to make sure if Percy will open up where he may have hidden the Helm of Darkness, and when he does, the child of Thanatos would mention it to Alecto who would grab it. 

However, how, the child of Thanatos gets to camp, whether Grover escorts or has another satyr takes them to Camp Halfblood, when Percy wakes up, he’s relieved to see the child of Thanatos in same place as he is, both of them not sure who their own respective godly fathers are and who they’re supposed to be, and being stuck together in the Hermes cabin together. If Percy has an inkling or has the same idea that the child of Thanatos may be a child of Hades, another child of the Big Three, he could’ve kept it on the down low to protect his friend. However, I can see Percy quietly asking the child of Thanatos whether or not they can see or sense his mom, who supposedly ‘died’ from the Minotaur. The child of Thanatos may sees the lingering of Hades’ influence, but they’re still very new to their power and demigod abilities, so it may not be a good consolation. I can also see Luke trying to get along with the child of Thanatos, along with Percy, because just like everyone else, Luke mistakens the child of Thanatos with a child of Hades. When Percy gets claimed as a son of Poseidon, Luke would definitely assume that the child of Thanatos is a child of Hades, and tries to get closer to them in hopes to persuade them and make use of them for the prophecy and the war against the gods. 

It would be relatively easy because neither Hades nor Thanatos have a cabin, so the child of Thanatos getting claimed isn’t happening at all. So they’re going to be pretty much stuck staying at the Hermes cabin.

Especially when the child of Thanatos shows some innate power or skill to go (seemingly) invisible; which is very useful when you’re trying to be a spy for Kronos. I can sort of see Luke teaching the child of Thanatos how to be sneaky and develop the demigod’s power as a son of thieves, while also telling him to keep it secret. Mostly because he wants to keep them and everyone else in the dark about their origins as a ‘child of Hades’ which violates the Big Three pact; scaring them that they should stay safe because Zeus already has his eye on Percy, so to hear Hades also had broken his pact? He doesn’t want Zeus to treat Percy and the child of Thanatos like what happened with Thalia, while also guilt tripping them that their ‘father’ killed his best friend and is immortalized as a tree- 

Yeah there’s going to be a lot of Luke manipulation, and trying to isolate the child of Thanatos from everyone, even Percy because he was claimed by Poseidon and Hades hasn’t or ever will- 

There’s also the fact of the child of Thanatos keeping their wings hidden from Luke for it to work; which I guess wouldn’t be a problem too much even if they’re small. It’ll definitely be harder to keep underwraps if they’re a son of Thanatos, since the boys tend to stick together because man to man talk, but if the child of Thanatos is a daughter  of Thanatos, Luke would have to switch to tactics and use his charisma and wit to draw them in like he did with Silena Beaugard. 

Throughout the child of Thanatos’ interactions with Luke, the child of Thanatos would see the lingering aura of the Helm of Darkness on Luke, but since they would be still very new to their power, they just assume that the touch of death is because Luke had suffered the death of a loved one, or experienced death and grief (which isn’t unlikely given Thalia’s ‘death’, the ‘death’ of the mother in Mary, the touch of Tartarus that lingered on Kronos, etc). 

I dunno how the child of Thanatos could legally go on a quest with Percy, Annabeth, and Grover since 3 is a traditional number, and to break that is calling for bad luck. It's either popping up or going practically staying invisible throughout the entire quest with or without Percy’s or anyone’s knowledge. Maybe the child of Thanatos gifts Percy with one of their feathers, as a sort of good luck charm, and maybe eluding to Percy that they have wings or not; to which the wing acts a sort of signal for the child of Thanatos that lets them know if Percy is in danger or not, or if Percy can summon them.

Maybe if Percy and Annabeth ‘knew’ the child of Thanatos is a ‘child of Hades’ and maybe they make use of it; yet kept their mouths closed because of the supposed ‘pact’ the Big Three share. I can see Percy calling the child of Thanatos to come over with their supposed ‘shadow travelling’ and ask for help and get them to go in and out throughout the entire camp as a sort of loophole, 

I can also see Annabeth convincing the child of Thanatos’ supposed ‘shadow traveling’ to go invisible being useful, just as Annabeth uses her cap to do the same. 

Definitely at the Lotus Casino, the child of Thanatos making an appearance because of the tidbit that Nico and Bianca are there, and the aura of a child of Hades practically summons them. There could be a small conversation between Nico and Bianca and they talk about the weird situation of the Casino, to which the child of Thanatos realizes this is the Lotus Casino and goes to find Percy, Annabeth, or Grover. 

Though when it gets to the underworld, things become more tense when Hades calls out that the child of Thanatos being a child of the underworld, and he had them placed in Yancy Academy to specifically find out where Percy, the supposed thief, was hiding his Helm of Darkness. Ensure the scenario of the child of Thanatos being seen as a traitor and spy, but we’re going to have to tap into Percy’s loyalty to his family and friends where he trusts the Child of Thanatos’ words that they didn’t know about this and they aren’t a spy. 

However, I can see the child of Thanatos noticing the lingering of death, darkness, and fear of the Helm of Darkness residue on Percy’s backpack that Ares gave to him, confirming Percy’s suspicion and telling Hades that Ares has the Helm of Darkness. 

I can see the child of Thanatos distracting Hades to let Percy, Annabeth, and Grover escape, ensuring that they would keep an eye on Sally. That’s also where Hades enlightens the child of Thanatos that he is a child of the underworld but he is not his blood son.

At the end of the book, I can see the child of Thanatos barely realizing Luke was the one who stole the Helm and barely getting there to fight Luke to protect Percy. There may be a bit of Luke’s manipulation that lingers in the child of Thanatos’ mind or not, but I can see the child of Thanatos hesitating a lot when confronting Luke. 

This matches or could be a similar scenario in the tv show version of the confrontation between Percy and Luke, where the child of Thanatos follows Luke and Percy with their invisibility skill, and appears just the right time like Annabeth did. 

It’s been a while since I re-read the Lightning Thief so some parts may be inaccurate or not in the right sequence but basically the child of Thanatos’ identity as their godly parent’s demigod would be delayed for a very long time. The constant stress of people having the knowledge that they might be a child of Hades, the impact it may have, and so forth. However, definitely when it comes to the ‘Titan’s Curse, when it comes to the introduction of Nico and Bianca, they’re going to be spending a lot of time together. Not only from the Lotus Casino, because the pull of being underworld children, leading to when Nico has his meltdown and leaves Camp, the child of Thanatos follows him because that’s their inborn duty.

[bearpillowmonster]

Andor

Finally got around to watching Andor and it's like, you see these normal everyday things that aren't necessarily in the rulebook NOT to appear in Star Wars but just weird first inclusions. Like cereal, it looks like they took Trix and put in a retro styled canister. Tags on the blasters. Mon Mothma is...a mom with family drama? I mean it all makes sense but just unwritten, surreal to see real. We see more of these people's home life than anybody else in the franchise. Even the Thrawn trilogy had that little bit of Earth with Lando's Hot Chocolate but Andor does it all the time, too much, too fast.

Much like Solo, nobody really asked for an Andor series but I thought of potential ways they could go about it, there's just...ok, if Cassian is a master of disguise, I'd like to see him do different things but he's just an Imperial Officer again. Ok, so it could work if he does this regularly in order to smuggle whatever it is in and out, gives him experience with the knowledge we have of Rogue One but it's not like that either, it's just- "I did this once before." Ok, maybe he has knowledge from a prison? There is a prison but he apparently already knew all this by that point. We have nothing to base it on.

We should've seen the prison earlier and then that could explain a heck of a lot more in terms of motivation and fear. Even then, I understand the reason him being arrested is kind of to show the iron grip of the empire but wouldn't it have been more satisfying if Andor was set up as the sacrifice for that mission in the name of the "rebellion", then it would make sense for him to come out and do what he does and have everyone hunt him. Or maybe he gets in the way of the rebellion, making Rogue One his one true act, I don't know but to me it just makes more sense to do it any other way.

A search for his sister sounds like a good premise at the beginning but it goes on and on and it doesn't seem to go anywhere. It correlates with these flashbacks that they abandon soon after. I know someone is going to point out "Oh, that's because he gave up on that quest, because of that line that Maarva says." but that's just nulling the plot (almost like leading you to believe that Rey is a somebody to say that she's a nobody to reveal that she's a somebody again) even the director was like "Yeah, I'm not really concerned with exploring that for S2 either." And it banks on that S2 happening even after the rocky road this one apparently went on. It's split into sections, here's the escape arc, here's the rebellion arc, here's the prison arc so the story is a little all over the place. One thing didn't necessarily lead to another, they can be their own contained things.

And oh? Someone instills the disguise thing into him? So is it like a shapeshifting clawdite? Nope, just a human with a wig sometimes. I know this is going to sound funky because I've complained about the overabundance of creatures given attention in the latest Star Wars material but there's an underwhelming lack in this one, like very few actual aliens. And it's the longest live action Star Wars series thus far, which is fine, we've kind of wanted more episodes with something but I can't help but feel-

Ok, so everybody said that Kenobi should've been a movie. Cool, fine, dandy, it was originally written as one and it was stretched out to meet Disney+ subscriptions then a fan re-edited it to fit that format and the fanbase loved it, he even changed some design choices that fans didn't like and I even hear that Disney approached him to come work for them. Happy Ending. But with this series, it can be boring, a lot can be cut and I get that it's meant to be a character piece but I feel it'd be so much better that since we see the perspective of a certain villain that maybe we should've just seen his failures and then him lead up to this big bad towards the end after Cassian has taken everything away from him rather than a bunch of scenes with his MOTHER and doing whatever else. Let me see him be pitiful and unsure but don't show me him wallowing in that way. I just can't help but feel this could've benefited from being a movie too AS MUCH AS I'D HATE TO SAY IT because it certainly didn't need to be a movie (as I mentioned) but it might just fit that format easier for someone like me. So if you're not a fan of the Senate scenes in the prequels then stand down because this is going to be flat. I didn't have trouble watching the slow burn of Dune or Avatar but this, I did and I took it relatively weekly as if it was airing. All that time with the nerdy Empire guy and I can't even remember his name...that's bad. And that goes the same for a lot of the other characters that I forgot their names already because they don't really use them or weren't relevant enough to warrant.

About a third of this show is actually entertaining and that's normally when it's actually focused on Cassian or Caleen, leaving the remaining two thirds to the other characters. I chose pictures without Cassian on purpose. And there IS a K2 unit in here but it's not THE K2 unit, so you never figure out how they meet, which seems like a no brainer as far as a prequel series should go. Worse than Boba Fett, making it the worst live action series thus far for me.

Was there a highlight in all this? What was my favorite? I thought the prison was interesting but could've been better. The actual payoff for the heist was the only part that I could see being memorable. With the actual star war and the betrayal and I don't know why that guy decided to lay where he did on take-off but sure, okay.