#i could ramble about the ritual for hours on end we all know this

[copiawife]

sometimes i remember that the ritual actually happened and i got to see ghost live and i kind of freak out

[l44serbeam]

hello, can i request college! ellie simping over oblivious reader 💝

eee i lov writing simp ellie shes such a munch

— ALL FOR YOU 𖤐 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — some good ol’ homosexual pining and loser lesbian syndrome, cursing, drinking, smoking, some fratty guy being creepy, sooome jealousy

For the past few years, Ellies followed y/n around like a lost puppy, accompanying her to all the parties, events, and get togethers. The two are attached at the hip, but lately somethings been eating away at Ellie and she just cant seem to let it go.

“Ellie. Im not gonna fucking smell it.” Y/n laughed as she swatted away the jar Ellie aggressively shoved at her face.

“C’mon y/n. If i had to suffer so do you.” Ellie menacingly cackled, her hand following y/ns nose as she attempted to dodge the scent of the four month old jar of moldy tomato sauce Ellie had grabbed from the fridge and instinctively took a strong whiff of.

“You’re distracting me.” Y/n whined as Ellie threw the jar in the trash and plopped onto the seat next to y/ns on her 2 chair dining table.

“You’ve been doing that shit since you got here this morning. Im feeling quite neglected and unwanted in my own home.” Ellie huffed, crossing her arms.

“I have two pages left, fifteen minutes at most. Then we can do whatever, I swear.” Y/n finalized, biting her lip as she scribbled on the bright yellow paper.

Ellie watched her work, eyebrows permanently scrunched and lips a gelatinous red from her chewing. The way she shifted uncomfortably in the seat as her lower back ached and would quietly huff whenever a question got too complicated.

In the past few years of their friendship, this had become a sort of ritual. Y/n would show up at Ellies house a good 15 minutes within Ellie waking up and shed study on Ellies table and Ellie would sit with her and watch her.

Well the last part of the ritual Ellie didn’t exactly want y/n to know about, but she couldn’t help herself. How could she not stare when she looked so sanctified, in her barest form, wearing her most comfortable clothes and her hair still not tamed from slumber.

It almost felt domestic. At least thats what Ellie thought. Shed order breakfast and they’d eat together is silence as y/n played out loud lecture recordings as they ate to not fall behind and Ellie would occasionally pretend to listen, but end up distracting y/n and laughing throughout, making her have to rewind and get back into the lesson.

Pretty much everything about y/ns and Ellies relationship was domestic, the two constantly together even at the most uneventful and peaceful moments.

They’d met the summer after their senior year, both attending a party near their new campus a month before the start of their college years.

In all honesty, when Dina had first introduced y/n to Ellie and they first exchanged greetings, shed set her mind on sparking a casual hook up and then forgetting about her, but how could she do that when after an hour the two were sat on the curb outside the party, nursing a joint and laughing maniacally at each others jokes with the haze of the alcohol. How could she just fuck y/n and leave when in the two hours they were sat on that curbside, she rambled endlessly about her personal ideologies and opinions, painfully pretty, passionate and giggly

That was one of the first things Ellie picked up within their conversations. Y/n was surprisingly intelligent and beautifully put together, made up of thoughts and theories that constantly molded her mind, making her practically impossible to figure out. She was complicated and beautiful and Ellie couldn’t help but feel a sense of adoration paint her chest.

The next years to come, Ellie and y/n were attached at the hip. They went to parties together, left together, ate together, studied together. All of it. And through all of it all Ellie could feel was warmth wrapping around her and a lightheaded buzz of euphoria. But even then, Ellie was convinced all y/n experienced was oblivion.

It wasn’t like Ellie hadn’t thrown hints or made it obvious that she yearned of her, but y/n had a tendency to not realize the things that were right in front of her. So, Ellie decided it’d be for the best if she just waits for her feelings to subside and not let anything change.

Ellie felt the buzz of her phone on her lap and flipped it over to see a message from Dina.

ELLIEEEEE ik ur with y/n ask her if u two r coming to jesses tonite

first of all how do you KNOW im with y/n 🤨🤨 and second.. she said yes

you two are practically a married couple ofc ur with her

Ellie chuckled at Dinas statement, making her cheeks redden in the slightest (not that shed ever admit it).

be at jesses at 7 or you will face ur doom mwahahahhahaha

Ellie lifts up her phone and faces the screen towards y/n. “I think she lost it.” Ellie laughed.

Y/n laughed at the message and Ellies comment. “Noo, she lost it a good four years ago.”

Y/n suddenly slammed her textbook shut and threw her pencil onto the table. “Im DONE.”

“Jesus, finally.” Ellie said. “Im gonna get ready i can drive you to your place so you can get ready and we can go kill time till 7 then off to Jesses.”

“Alrighty ill pack my shit up.”

“Look its my favorites!” Dina yelled out as she practically launched from Jesses couch and ran over to the two, pulling them both into a hug. The scent of alcohol and weed radiated from her, exciting y/n for the night.

Getting drunk and high with her best friends was one of y/n’s favorite things to do, all of them losing any sense of dignity or embarrassment and just letting loose with one another.

Y/n spotted a few unfamiliar faces littering Jesses apartment, red cups at hand and smoke clouding the home.

“Lets go get you started off. Im feeling quite lonely at my level.” Dina laughed, grabbing y/ns hand. Y/n looked back at Ellie and stretched out her purse to her which she responded to with a nod, grabbing the purse and beginning to back away towards Jesse.

“Cant believe you didnt wait for me.” Y/n said in a dramatically offended manner. Dina rolled her eyes, pulling y/n forward.

“I love you y/n, but its not my fault if you took forty thousand years to get here.”

When they reached the kitchen, a counter had a display of multiple bottles and differently tinted alcohol bottles and chasers.

Dina grabbed a bottle of tequila and two cups, pouring a double shot in each and handing one to y/n.

“God this shit can kill a grown man.” Y/n groaned at the intense scent of the alcohol wafting from the cup.

“C’mon.” Dina said, tapping her cup at the table and bringing it up to her lips, y/n following suit. The two gulped down the shots, both immediately reaching for the bottle of sprite as a chaser.

“Oh jesus.” Y/n coughed, her face sourly contorted. She shook her head quickly to shake it off and recover.

She grabbed two cups and poured some hawaiian punch that was on the counter, pouring some of the tequila on top. She made sure to pour one of them heavy handedly with the alcohol. “Im gonna go take Ellie a drink.” She told Dina.

“Ill be waiting for you on the dance floor.” She excitedly yelled before rushing off to the area next to the kitchen where the majority of swaying bodies danced to the loud music.

“Youre actually an idiot Williams. Like not in a joking haha funny way but you are genuinely dumb.” Jesse laughed, Ellie rolling her eyes and slumping back on the couch, her legs spread widely and arms defensively folded in front of her chest.

“Shut up Jesse. The only reason you and Dina got together was cause you don’t know how to take a hint and started talking about her to me on facetime and you didn’t know she was next to me. Not because of your unwieldy intelligence.” Ellie retorted, Jesse playfully punching her shoulder.

“You’re just mad dude. I think you’d loosen up if you juts fucking told her how you felt. You’re getting quite tense.” He finalized with a whisper as they watched a cheerful y/n making her way over with two cups in hand.

“Hello there.” Y/n said, stretching out the O as she plopped down on Ellies lap, handing her the drink that had more alcohol.

“Greetings.” Ellie said slickly, grabbing the drink from y/ns hand and smirking at her pinkened cheeks and already loose demeanor. She found her hand instinctively flattening on the lower part of y/ns back and bringing the drink to her lips, eyes squinting at the burning flavor masked by the slightest bit of fruit.

Jesse eyed the two and laughed to himself, shaking his head. Ellie looked at him and gave him a indicative look that read shut the fuck up.

“Where’d Dina go?” He asked y/n, taking in Ellies look.

“She went to go dance. Im gonna join her in a sec.” She responded, taking a swing out her cup.

Ellie reached into the pocket of her loose black denim button up and pulled out a tin. Y/n immediately recognized it as the tin Ellie kept her joints in. According to her it was the perfect place to keep them cause they stayed fresh longer.

She brought the joint up and pinched it between her lips, then searching through her pockets but not seeming to find what she was looking for.

“Got a light?” She asked through lips.

Y/n nodded and reaching to her purse that was in between Ellies thigh and the corner of the couch. She pulled out the lighter and brought it to the tip of the joint at Ellies lips, Ellie silently taken aback when she expected her to have just handed it to her.

When the smoke bloomed from the lit end, Ellie took a lengthy drag that further lit the cherry.

She grabbed it from her lips and handed the joint to y/n, letting her take as much she wanted before getting up and going to Dina.

Ellie watched y/n under the dimly lit lamp next to them on the night table, being one of the few sources of light. She looked peaceful, looking ahead at the crowd of people quietly with a hidden grin and swaying to the music. Her lips delicately wrapping around the joint and the lip gloss she insisted on applying right as Ellie parked her car and making her wait glimmered against the light.

Suddenly, y/n turned her head and her eyes caught Ellies, catching her in her tracks. She separated the joint from her lips and smiled.

“What?” She laughed at Ellies stagnant gaze.

Ellie laughed lightly. “Nothing. You just look happy.” She dismissed.

“Of course i am. Fucking studying shits been kicking my ass, i was dying to get out.” She said, not reading further into the look on Ellies eye as she watched her.

“Alright, im goin’ in.” Y/n said, patting Ellies leg and handing her the joint as she stood up.

“Have fun.” Ellie said, leaning back again and fixing herself on the couch.

Jesse leaned back once again, his lousy conversation with a guy who stopped by them as Ellie and y/n spoke ending, but that didnt mean her didnt hear the entire conversation between her and y/n.

He looked at her and laughed. “Youre a fool Ellie. A fool.” He said, Ellie groaning and planting her hands on her face, trying to cover the slight laughter that escaped.

“Y/N!” Dina called, seeing y/n search for her closer to the edge of the crowd. At her name, y/n beamed and pushed towards her. “Thought you were never gonna make it!” She yelled in y/ns ear slightly louder than necessary.

“Ellie sparked up.” Y/n said back.

“So you weren’t dancing with me cause your were blue balling Ellie?” Dina laughed and said in a sarcastically offended manner.

“Shut the fuck up.” Y/n said firmly, but playfulness playing at her tone.

“Oh how you torture that poor girl.” Dina laughed.

“Stop i do not.” Y/n huffed. “We’re best friends Dina. She doesn’t see me like that.”

Dina sighed and twirled around to the music. “You’re so oblivious.”

“She would never.” Y/n stated in a stonier tone.

“But would you.” Dina asked sharply, raising her eyebrows knowingly and crossing her arms.

Y/n rolled her eyes but remained silent.

“Whatever dummy. Forget about that.” Dina said, grabbing y/ns hands and urging her to start dancing with her which she slowly caved into, losing herself in the beat of the music.

The two jumped and swayed, only stopping to gulp down a portion of the drinks in their hand and keep dancing.

Y/n felt a pair of hands wrap around her waist, the persons body pressing into her back and the scent of heavy liquor and pungent cologne invading her senses.

When Dine turned towards y/n and saw the man behind her, her face contorted as she made confused eye contact with y/n.

Y/n turned around and gently put her hands on the mans chest, softly pushing him away as she backed up.

“Sorry im not interested.” She yelled over the music.

“What were just dancing!” The man said back, still stepping towards her. “Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be dancing alone baby.”

Y/ns and Dinas faces both painted with disgust, y/ns push becoming slightly harder.

“Thank you, but no thank you.” She insisted, this time turning around the push out the crowd.

Behind her the man followed, keeping track of her through the people and still trailing behind her as she walked toward the kitchen.

“C’mon. Whats your deal.” He said as she stopped at the drink counter and started making another drink, not paying attention to the guy. “Don’t be a bitch.” He said, grabbing the back of her hips and pressing against her backside. She quickly grabbed his wrist and turned to aggressively push him off and in all probability, probably punch him square in the face, but before she could do that a hand gripped his shoulder and he was harshly pulled off of her, stumbling back.

“Shes obviously not into you dude. Fucks wrong with you.” Ellie said, getting frighteningly close to his face, chests touching. Ellie was practically the same height as him if not taller, by this time her jacket off, revealing her built arms from her black wife beater.

It seemed like a fight he did not want to pick, putting his hands up and backing away with a shit eating grin. “Alright, definitely mot worth it.” He said, walking away and out of the kitchen. The few people that lingered around there looked at y/n, one or two asking if she was ok.

When everyone cleared out and went about with their business Ellie looked at y/n, her hand brushing her forearm. “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah i am, just got me a little nervous.” Y/n wearily laughed as she spoke, turning back around and finishing pouring the alcohol in her drink with shaky hands.

“Careful there.” Ellie said, her hand pulling down the end of the bottle for y/n to stop pouring seeing how much she was putting in.

“Im good Ellie.” Y/n said in a firmer manner, looking back at her.

“I know.” She softly responded. “Cmon, lets go to the couch.”

“Im gonna use the bathroom really quickly then ill meet you there.”

“Need me to wait for you?”

“No its ok, go make sure no one takes your spot.”

Ellie nodded and walked back to the couch, Y/n finding the vacant bathroom and locking herself in it. She set down her cup on the counter and turned on the water, splashing some of it on her neck to combat the heat that seated to be radiating from her body. She looked in the mirror and took a breath, recomposing herself.

“Alright.” She said to herself, swinging open the door again and walking towards the sofa. When the made it into the living room, the first thing she spotted was Ellie in her spot at the couch, and next to her a pretty blonde girl with big round eyes looking up at her, a smile on her lips.

Y/n stopped in her place and watched as Ellie seemed to explain something to her, her hands moving and making signals and the girl eagerly nodding along.

Something shot up y/ns spine in that moment and she considered just walking up to them and taking a seat on her usual spot (that being Ellies lap) but her words to Dina rung.

She just sees me as a best friend. She sees her as someone to be with.

With that thought ringing through her head she turned towards the balcony door besides her, stepping out and being hit by the cool breeze.

A man ashed his cigarette and y/n asked if she could bum one off of him, to which he said yes and gave her one then exited, leaving her alone.

She lit the cigarette with a random lighter from the chair and drew from it.

Her drunkenness had taken a turn with the sighting, going from a jolly and joyful to sad and sulky. Its not like she felt like Ellie had any obligations to her or the other way around, but that didn’t stop y/n from feeling a sharp tiny stab to her gut.

There was a knock on the glass door of the balcony causing y/n to whip back around. A tall girl stood at the glass waving at y/n almost as a warning that she was coming out.

“Hey sorry to bother you. Mind if i smoke out here?” The girl asked.

“No not at all.” Y/n said turning back towards the view and taking another hit of the cigarette.

“I know you.” That girl said in a recognizing tone as she pulled out her own cigarette. “We have Microbiology iolgoy together. You sit next to, whats her name?”

Y/n laughed lightly. “Yeah, a friend of mine, Leah.”

“Yeaah.” The mystery girl responded.

“Whats your name?” Y/n asked but before the girl could answer, the glass sliding door of the balcony swung open.

“Y/n i was fucking worried about you.” Ellie said sharply, eyeing the girl that stood besides her hastily. “Sorry im gonna have to take her.” She said as she grabbed her arm and began pulling her, not a drop of genuine apology in her voice.

“Ellie what the hell. She was nice i was having a conversa-”

“You had me scared y/n. I mean what the fuck you said you would be there i a minute and almost twenty go by and no ones seen you. You don’t even know her and you were practically on her.” She said, not making eye contact. Y/n shook her arm out of Ellies grasp, making both of them stop in the empty hallway.

“And you didn’t know that girl but that didn’t stop you from go for her. You can have flirt with people and get with girls but i cant?”

“What girl y/n? What are you talking about?” Ellie questioned harshly.

“From the couch Ellie. You were going for her and i didnt want to barge in. You were obviously into her.”

Ellie scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. At the realization the tense muscles of her face softened, but were still written with gentle confusion. “The blonde on? I wasnt- why would i be into her?”

“Because shes pretty and obviously ready to suck you off right then and there so what else.” Y/n shrugged, annoyance building onto her tone.

A chill ran up her spine at the sight of how Ellies face shifted at her statement.

“You’re really are fucking obvious are you?” Ellie huffed.

“About what Ellie?” Y/n desperately asked, Ellies lips pressing together.

“Im not doing this here. Grab your shit, im dropping you off at your house.” She said demandingly, y/n cursing at herself when her legs didn’t even waiver a second before speeding towards her purse to collect her things.

The car rang with the low tones of the gentle rock music that played from Ellies playlist. Other from that and the sound of the road rolling against the tires there was no noise within the car.

Y/n sat looking out the window, occasionally looking over at Ellies tense figure besides her.

Question hung heavily in the air and unspoken words riddled y/ns tongue. In the past 10 minutes of the car ride, y/n had repeatedly gained the confidence to strike up conversation but allowing her anxiousness eat away at it and retaliate.

Ellie suddenly turned and parked in front of the entrance to the apartment building which y/n lived at. She put the car in park and turned towards y/n her hand placing itself onto the back of y/ns seat.

“You really dont see it y/n?” Ellie said, speaking her first words in the entire car ride.

“See what Ellie? You keep talking about this it like i know what thats supposed to be.”

“It is whats right in front of you y/n! Me! The way i feel about you and the way you make me feel. I’ve tried so many times y/n i mean so many times to show you or hint to you that i like you more than what we say we are to each other.”

Y/n couldnt help but let her jaw slack, her lips parting open in surprise at Ellies words. Ellie hissed and rubbed her hands against her face, groaning.

“God.” She hissed. “Look y/n. I dont want to lose you. I dont care how youre in my life but i need you in it. If you dont feel the same way we can go on and forget tonight happened.”

Ellies shoulder slumped at the sound of giggles escaping y/ns throats, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“I dont think laughing is what i was expecting.” Ellie said.

“No no no, im not laughing at you. Im laughing cause Dina was fucking right.”

That response didnt exactly ease Ellies nerves, almost taking offense to it. These feelings were quickly eased at the sight of y/n spring out of her seat and the feeling of her lips searing into hers.

A wave of euphoria rushed through Ellie at the feeling of y/n. On her. Her hands on Ellies neck and on her knees as she bent over the arm rest.

It was as if the kiss almost spoke hundreds of words of exchange that neither of them had said. Their lips moved against one another, clutching onto a string of reality.

The two separated to breath desperate breaths of air, their foreheads against one another and noses brushing against each other.

“I think i let how much i like you and how much i dont want to ruin us not let me see the obvious.” Y/n said barely above a whisper, Ellies lip curling into a smile.

“You’re so stubborn.” Ellie responded, leaning back and brushing her thumb across the apple of y/ns cheek. “Its almost three im the morning and you have class at nine, get yourself to bed.” She said even though those very words caused her so much dread.

Y/n groaned but couldnt contain the sheepish smile on her face. “Alright. Ill be at your place by 11. That ok?” Y/n asked almost nervously.

Ellie leaned forward and kissed y/ns lips once again. “Whats expecting anything different. Im not done with you.” She smirked, making y/n blush.

“Ill see you tomorrow.” Y/n said as she opened the car door.

“Text me when your upstairs.” Ellie said before y/n closed the door, her response being a thumbs up and happy wave before running into the lobby.

Ellie drove all the way back to her apartment with a cheesy smile on her face and her hands excitedly tapping the steering wheel to the drumming of the music she played lauder than before.

Just wait till Jesse hears this.

a/n — heres a lil fic for you guys just to keep u fed <<3 love yall and i hope your having a wonderful pride month 😽😽

[mediocreanomaly]

Creature!Vash train continues! :D

May we have some nsfw with mer!Vash please?

Authors Note: Yes of course! Sorry for the delay my creative brain was fried. Also theres alot of build up so uh...smut with feelings? Sorry if thats not your jam but Mer!Vash has customs you know. Enjoy! GN!Reader!!! I don't go into detail about the readers uh...equipment so you can read it as either or

Read the SFW Pt.1 Here!

Mer!Vash X Reader NSFW

•It had been a tedious process for Vash to court you. He was doing everything in the book to show off how good of a mate he would be.

•He brought you lots of fish (dead this time after the last incident) to show he could provide food

•He scavenged lots of shiny objects to show you how good at finding resources he was

•He'd make you sit at the rocks and watch him swim for hours to prove how strong of a swimmer he was, and despite his missing arm he was in perfect health! He'd be a great mate for you, see?

•You seem receptive enough of the advances, always eagerly accepting the courting gifts, bringing him new foods to try when he visited, you had even bought a few cook books to figure out what he liked and although you hadn't gotten him a courting gift since the gold ear ring that currently hung proudly from his ear lobe he knew. It was time to make you his.

•There was one final step, a courting ritual custom for merfolk to see if you'd finally take him to be your one and only mate. He was equally nervous and excited pestering all the other merfolk he considered himself close with about it for days on end.

•Wolfwood is admittedly uninterested not caring about anything human related in the first place, luckily Meryl and Milly are more on the excited side letting Vash ramble away about his perfect future mate. Meanwhile Nai is fully against it, angrily telling him off anytime Vash even brings it up… but you can't please everyone!

•So Vash steels himself, pulling himself up on the rock the two of you have deemed your meeting place, only this time he has something special planned

"Come here!" He calls to you in his own choppy mimicking of human language, although he was getting better at it, he still preferred merfolk speak.

•You hear Vash’s voice and trail out of the lighthouse, confused why Vash is calling you out so late. Vash makes an excited chirp noise when he sees you and slaps his tail against the rock to encourage you to come closer

•You laugh and stagger over the rocks to get to him but before you can reach him he dives into the water, swimming under into dark. It's hard to see him this late at night but you sit down on the rock trying to make out the outline of the merman

•You were admittedly confused at the mermans antics. Vash had become more and more clingy lately, although you secretly didn't mind. You enjoyed the company more than you probably should and luck for you Vash seemed to enjoy you just as much if the increasing visits were anything to go by

•You were a bit confused on what he was trying to do though. Waiting for him to resurface so you could sheepishly admit that you couldn't see whatever it was he was doing under the water

•That is until you do see him. Bioluminescent markings beginning to shimmer through the water, a light blue running along his body showing the intricate patterns that Vash swims in. Your eyes go wide, watching as he swirls around streaks of blue dotting through the water. He moves so gracefully, it's mesmerizing. You can't seem to take your eyes off him when he begins making noise

•It's high pitched, but it's sweet. Like a lullaby you had forgotten, was he singing? He must be. You had heard him make all sorts of chirps and trills but this one was different, more melodic and pleasant. You let your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the song. For some reason you feel like you know the tune despite having never heard the song in your life

•After a couple minutes of listening to his song you hear the sound of splashing. You peek your eyes open to see Vash has popped his head above water, he looks...confused? Or maybe expectant? He sings again letting his song fill the air around you then he pauses looking at you waiting. You blink dumbly at him for a few seconds before you find your voice

"...oh! It was very pretty Vash I didn't know you could sing like that, is that all you wanted to show me?" you ask.  Vash blinks at you before his brow furrows as he makes frantic chirping noises. You startle, slightly caught off guard by the mermans distress. Did you say something rude? Before you can get an answer to that question Vash's glowing tampers off and he dives into the water leaving you alone on the rocks. You wait for a moment wondering if he'd pop back up after half an hour like with the earring, but hours pass and the dark is starting to make the air around you chilly. You frown and count your losses wondering what had gotten Vash so worked up.

•Vash is heartbroken. Had he miss read the signals? You didn't seem reciprocate his mating dance or his mating call at all! He had tried so hard too! Was his song not good enough? He was sure he didn't have the prettiest voice out of the merfolk but surely it was decent enough, right? Or maybe it was the dance? Perhaps he should have swum a different pattern? He had been practicing for weeks though...

•Nai is the one that finds him pouting making weak sad chitters as he lays dramatically on the sea floor.

•Nai is no help. Telling him the merfolk equivalent to "I told you so" and suggesting he just find another merfolk to court if he was so desperate to have a mate.

•But he wasn't desperate to have a mate, he was desperate to mate you. For the next few days Vash is a sorry sight, slowly drifting around the ocean, frowning every time he finds something shiny since he'd usually just give it to you. He just doesn't understand what went wrong...he shakes his head, he couldn't give up that easily, he had to try again, you were the only one for him, he was sure of it.

•You wait on the rocks till sunset again, hoping to see Vash swim up and explain in broken English that he had been busy or that he was off collecting rare human items. Then at least you could scold him for worrying you, then at least you could see his face

•Ever since that night Vash sang to you, he hadn't come around. You still weren't sure what you had done to upset the merman so much but whatever it was you didn't think it dictated getting the cold shoulder

•You began to wonder if maybe you were boring him. He was always coming here, sitting on the rocks, or pulling himself into the sand to entertain you. Since you weren't merfolk there was just some things you couldn't do, maybe Vash was starting to realize that, maybe you hadn't tried hard enough. You stew in the fact that maybe you and you alone was what had chased Vash off

•It's two weeks later when you've determined Vash isn't coming back that he shows his face again. You aren't even looking for him, instead coming back from the night market when you hear a familiar chirping noise coming from the light house

•The second you hear it you take off down the gravel path to your home racing to see if it's who you think it is, and there he is. Perched on the rocks, blonde hair, red tail and that damn gold earring still hanging from his ear, he looks apologetic and abashed as he makes soft cooing noises towards you which you think is supposed to be an apology.

•You dive for him, wrapping your arms around his wet shoulders trying to starve off the sobs you feel building in your throat.

"Vash! You scared me half to death! What if you had got poached! Or hurt! Or-"

•Vash cuts you off by nuzzling closer to you making a quick series of chirps with broken "I'm sorry’ s" mixed in. You grumble not yet ready to let this go but your more than glad he's safe. You sigh and run your hand through his hair and he gives you puppy dog eyes and a toothy grin. Idiot.

•Just as you get used to the weight of him laying against you, he shifts against the rock to get your attention before diving into the water. Again, his body begins to glow, the light glimmering under the surface, and again his song begins. The soft melody filling the air

•Ah, he was...playing again? You take a deep breath not wanting to disappoint him this time, you stand up on the rock and it seems you’re doing something right because Vash looks up at you excitedly, he sings the melody to you again then watches you, you blink and he grimaces before repeating the same notes-

•Wait a second. You tilt you head and try singing them back, mimicking the tune to him. His eyes go wide and a smile breaks out on his face and he makes a loud trill noise swimming in an excited circle before singing again, now that you know what to do you laugh and do your best to sing along

•He swims in lazy figure eights and you walk forward dipping your feet in the water, despite still swimming Vash keeps his eyes trained on you as if waiting on something, you pad into the water giggling thinking you finally understand this weird merfolk game when about waist deep in Vash grabs you

•You yelp as Vash drags you deeper into the water, trying to keep your head up. He's making excited noises nuzzling against your throat, you feel his tail begin to wrap around your legs as he presses you up against the rock, his clawed hands reach down the swipe along your shorts ripping them off in a single clean motion

•Oh. Oh. Everything clicks in your head all at once, the weird gift giving, the flustered state he was in when you gave him the earring, the dance the singing, Vash didn't see you as a friend, he saw you as a mate

•You blush at the idea but your mind is currently reeling from the merman currently being very eager about running his webbed fingers over your sex.

•You moan, a little nervous about the claws his nails tamper off into but it seems he’s also mindful of that, using his tail to keep you up in place against a flat rock as he focuses on pleasing you, making soft coos and trills as your writhe in pleasure under him

"V-Vash don't tease" you manage to whine out, pawing uselessly at his shoulder. He mimics a human laugh, and nuzzles against you, but luckily complies, he ruts against you and from the slit that sits pretty along his tail, what you assume to be his cock emerges, it’s a bit different than a human one, longer, thinner at the tip but it thickens up the further down the shaft it goes, and it's coated in something slick he seems to be producing

•It makes your mouth water, and you wonder what it would be like in your mouth...another time maybe, you'd have to ask him about it. As of now Vash lines the tip of himself up with you and you’re a little apprehensive about the fact he's about to do this with no prep, Vash seems to notice your apprehensiveness and makes comforting cooing noises before purring lightly and nipping gently against your neck, the vibrations flowing from his chest serve its purpose as you relax in his grip

•Slowly he presses in, it's actually not bad, the further he sinks in the more noticeable the stretch is but he goes slow enough that it's more erotic than it is painful. Vash finally bottoms out, pausing and cocking warming himself with you for a moment while you adjust, he makes various clicks and chirps that you’re pretty sure translate into some sort of merfolk praise. He could probably talk if he wanted to but from the way his irises are blow wide with lust, you’re pretty sure his minds too far gone to try and mimic any English right now

•After you settle and the ocean water lapping at your body begins to get a bit cold from the lack of movement you pat the blondes shoulder to try and signal him to move, he chirps and begins to slowly pull out, you whine at the loss now used to full feeling Vashs cock was providing you but it doesn't last long, as soon as it leaves he's thrusting back into your warm heat

•You aren't sure what you expected, perhaps considering the gentle way Vash treats you you had expected something a soft and slow. Something that, in foresight you should have known would be a falsity considering he was acting on instinct. A fact that was becoming evidently clear as he growled, movements fast and a little sloppy as the clawed hands holding you up begin to lightly sink into your shoulder and hip, the snarls only broken up by needy keens as he ruins you

•It's hard to think like this, the sounds of the waves mixed with the equally wet sounds of you and Vashs body meeting repeatedly is making your mind melt in the most wonderful way, the cold of the water, the warmth that’s blooming between your legs, you don't even realize your drooling until Vash moves his arm away to reach down and touch where you need him most

•You wail, scratching at his back while he makes equally loud noises, somehow speeding up even more as he chases release. You feel yourself teetering on the edge, near your tipping point as your body tenses in what’s sure to be the best orgasm in your life when your feel Vashs sharp teeth clamp down along your neck and- oh fuck

•You scream his name as your body milks him for all he's worth, mind blanking as you cum, Vash finishes with you, pressing in as far as he can as thick ropes of cum are pumped into you filling your impossibly fuller. He doesn't seem eager to let it escape either, staying in you even after he finishes trembling slightly from the over stimulation when the waves jostle your bodies together and licking over his mating bite in apology, purring and cooing at your body he carefully cradles in his arms

•You groan, recovering from...well everything when you lazily turn your head to look at the cursed merman, he offers you a sheepish smile a bit of your blood still staining his lips but the pride that's currently shining through his eyes lets you know he doesn't feel that guilty about the situation in the slightest. You huff in mock annoyance and kiss him, something he eagerly accepts, chittering happily against your lips only to sport a dopey grin when you part, causing you to laugh

•Well...there’s plenty fish in the sea, you're just luckily you ended up with this idiot

[justanotherblogger]

Small Tang Ramble

Right now, I have started rewatching the entire Lego Monkie Kid series from the start while I wait to see the recent season 5 episodes (that I was suckerpunched with when scrolling through Tumblr and having some stuff spoiled whene I didnt even think a new season would come for at least a few more months).

Then, when I finally got to season 4, I noticed something interesting with how they handle Tang's powers.

At the start of the season, it's revealed that Tang's cheat sheet, given to him by Azure Lion, was something that supposedly should've been helpful to someone "mysticly powerful, comparable to the Great Monk, Tang Sanzang", then the sheet should be a piece of cake so to speak.

Then we see how Tang struggles and has a hard time finding where his friends are located, but then a Golden Cicada helps him to find Pigsy, which was the same one that flew around the Samadhi Fire ritual site when Mei had it reunited within her.

That's not my topic right now, though, so I'll just skip the "random destiny bugs" (name given to me by a friend), and keep going towards my main point.

Anyways, skipping a few episode to when the meet the Great Master (I forgot the guys name), we see how Tang got berated for his lack of courage and work ethic. Then Tang and the rest of the gang are put to train, and I'm not exactly sure on how long they were in training for, but I'm going to assume a few hours at the sky visibly got darker near the end of the montage.

(I'm pretty sure that something akin to a stop in time for them to train would have been stated in the show itself if that was an explanation for how long they have been training for, so I'm gonna rule out any sort of "checkpoint" or "rest stop" rules here, like when you can stay in a safe space for whatever amount of time and come out with little time passed afterwards.)

The reason why I'm talking about how long they've trained for, is because after (what I assume) is a few hours, Tang is able to teleport a WHOLE AIR BALLOON, RIGHT ON TOP OF WHERE THEY NEEDED TO BE, WITHOUT HIS STAFF NO LESS.

*ahem* We know Tang had struggled with the teleportation magic from the beginning, even with his staff along with only transporting 3 people, and the magic level required to do so is comparable to the Monk, who is very powerful considering what we've seen in how his training was revered by the great master for being extensive plus how the Monk focussed only on his studies, and in-show examples. (Ex. Releasing the heavenly seal put on monkey king singehandedly, sealing the Samadhi Fire along with three others, then also Sealing the Lady Bone Demon to where she can only escape through her self reflecting or a rare, mystical key, etc)

I'm just saying how it's very impressive how Tang could go from barely being able to teleport accurately with 3 people, the staff in hand, to figuring out how to teleport accurately, how to teleport something as big as an airship, and then gaining enough focus/mystic power to do the teleport without his staff for this first time shown in the show. And remember this: all of this growth was in, at most, half a day.

And we know how long the Great Monk had to study to get to where he was, "learning everything there was to learn" with him blocking out anything else to focus purely on his studies to get where he was, and yes, he probably studied more than just the teleportation magic in his time, but Azure said it himself, that someone "mysticly powerful, comparable to the Great Monk, Tang Sanzang" should be able to figure out the cheet sheet, or at least versed in the mystical topic.

I already showcased how much work is really needed through that comment, but then Azure showed it again in his comment of "if hes learned it in the mystical arts.." describing how this would have needed to be taught like how they gang were forced to with the Great Master. We already know how hard the training from the Great Master was to get even a fraction of Mk's power, and considering how heavily it's put on how the Monk only studied and studied when it was talked about, with the students in the flashback looking like the ones under the Great Master, I would assume learning the mystic arts takes a similar amount of time and effort.

And now that my points have been laid out, you guys get it when I was gobsmacked at how quickly Tang grew in the time with the Great Master, reiterating my point of how Tang was able to figure out HOW TO DO TELEPORT AND AIRSHIP WITHOUT THE CHEAT SHEET, WITH HIS BARE HANDS, IN A MATTER OF HOURS when it was heavily implied (from what interpreted) that doing something like this would take a considerable amount of time and training, even for the Monk as he was said to only focus on his studies to optimize his mystic abilities and to block any distractions.

And then to add to this, it was only ever shown in the show that Tang only read throughout the entire training session. Whenever we see him in the montage, it's him reading scrolls no matter what. We never see him practice, or even mimic any of the moves or exercise that I would assume would be on those scrolls for him to learn. Then, the first time he ever put those ideas he read about into practice after using the staff the entire time before and messing it up, he was able to make the transportation of the airship fast, accurate, and without the help of the staff entirely.

TLDR: Tang is either so good at cramming that he was able to shorten a good year of learning into a couple hours, or he's severely gifted in the mystic arts with the right training or examples. Either way, if you gave this man a week in the scroll library with some noodles and motivation from the Great Master, then I would assume he might actually become one of the most powerful characters LMK, given the time to do so. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[sparring-spirals]

hi! sorry to bother you with this but I don’t really know how to search for it online and I don’t know anyone else that follows cr/has seen C2, so… when they brought devexian back online I know he was very broken and couldn’t remember much, but he was… somewhat functional, right? like, his core was intact etc?

I’m asking because I’ve been having this feeling lately that they’ll get to the repair terminal in the genesis ward in the next ep or so, and for the live show they’ll somehow fix fcg through the same means the mighty nein used for D (and that’s how sam would make his appearance at the show), since they kept the pieces after the explosion…

I guess my question is… would it work? can they fix fcg there? or would the core need to be intact for that? was devexian’s? could the repair terminal give them another core or is their core intrinsically linked to their soul? (I guess the last question is more of a meta question since there’s no way we can know that😂 but I’d love to know your opinion on it)

thank you and sorry again for the ramblings🫶🏻

hello anon. I'm deeply flattered you asked me and I am also SO sorry i did not see this until way late. I'm not even sure this answer is still any use given the liveshow has already gappened. but uhm. im here now! Never apologize for asking clarifying questions to me, i dont mind, just know that I sometimes (often) won't know. Or might go AWOL! apparently. This goes quadruple-fold for when I am some million hours behind on the campaign.

Also you sent this in BEFORE the live show and since then the live show has happened and Sam has returned with a hot flirty hunk of a character so I guess that answers that part of your question? I Am. So Sorry. But imo your broader question about if they could bring back F.C.G at all remains.

so that said, knowing that I havent been properly caught up for some 30-40 episodes, I'm going to give my very handwavey opinion, then turn you over to the hands of my followers who are probably more well informed and also probably caught up on the campaign.

I think its important to consider any kind of F.C.G revival on both an out of game perspective and in game perspective, bc I think with revival the latter influences the former a LOT. I think if Sam were really interested in bringing back F.C.G the repair terminals and them keeping parts of F.C.G could factor into it. There's definitely the question of "what makes F.C.G F.C.G" that would have to factor in, which gets philosophical very quick- I think there would have to be some equivalent of a standard revival ritual where they call something back from the beyond, because IMO, putting a "new" core in wouldnt bring back FCG.

Before we even get into the nitty gritty of the philosophy, though I don't know that Sam would want to bring F.C.G back? I mean the live show ended and there's now a hot minotaur in the party so its easy for me to say that. But Sam has also always been someone to commit to the big swings for characters- including losses- and his treatment of F.C.G's death felt like he thought it was meaningful and impactful and said what he wanted it to say. So in that vein- maybe it isnt possible to bring F.C.G back, largely because I think Matt would respect if Sam wouldn't want to leave that on the table.

TL;DR: Its not that I think there's no way to viably justify an F.C.G revival using the repair terminals, but it would be tricky and I don't see them doing that, from what I know. Is there an opportunity for something similar to Molly -> Kingsley towards the end of the campaign? Shore. Maybe. but i dont count that in the bucket youre describing.

anyway. im so sorry for the delay on this anon. i hope you had a good time watching the live show and are enjoying Sam's new character and im sorry i was not present enough to see this and respond earlier 😅

[mag200]

i think you could make.better sense out of this than i could but its interesting that at first, the person hunted was the one who killed the eventually killed, (nat and javi) but it happened Again when shauna was chosen. even if it wasnt intentional of course, in a way they both caused the death of one of the so called hunters. tell me your thoughts

oh its for sure super interesting and i wonder how it'll play out when we see them continue w the cards. like lottie said they used to do it where you could choose to submit or run, and if you run you take the chance that maybe it's not you who dies.

it almost reminds me of the magnus archives (i know, guy who's only heard one podcast: getting a lot of tma vibes from this) with like the entities and how unknowable they were. even all the avatars and monsters who were closest to their entity and gained power from it couldn't actually communicate with it - they did their best to figure it out and come up with rituals but there was no way to actually understand the Fears and follow their instructions. so the wilderness definitely reminds me of that in terms of what it wants vs. how the girls interpret it.

that's all assuming the wilderness is a real thing which like. i really like the space the show is sitting in where it might be supernatural and it might not be. but if we deny all the supernatural then yeah it still makes sense that when they hunt someone, the person who drew the card isnt necessarily the person who dies. javi was an accident (that they allowed to happen - they could've pulled him out but him falling in was a legitimate accident).

what i think mostly about these girls hunting (especially hunting without natalie as one of them) is their violence is not focused and precise, their feelings explode outward from them like shrapnel, and whoever it hits is dinner. they're escalating situations super fast and that makes accidents way more likely to happen. so it's very convenient for them to be able to say (and believe) that "the wilderness chose".

with nat as their leader (antler queen? antler queen???) i do wonder if the hunts will be more, idk, precise. because nat was already the hunter of the group (travis as well ofc but i think not to the same extent). i don't really think of shauna as the one who killed natalie, yes she was involved but she was actually (for once, right) the one trying to deescalate the situation.

it does hit hard tho that even in the adult timeline with a fake hunt that most of them weren't really committed to, misty chose a target and missed, but natalie didn't miss, she was exactly quick enough to get what she wanted, which was to save lisa and end the cycle that started when she let javi die.

(to be clear bc of how i worded that, i don't think nat wanted to kill herself anymore and i don't conceive of that scene as a suicide, we saw in her hallucination on the plane that she didn't want to go, but i think there's a lot of value to her choosing to save lisa and healing the trauma from javi)

sorry this is so long and rambling i just watched the episode like 12 hours ago and whoo goddamn there is so much to think about.

[nanenna]

So I ended it there last time because this could go in several directions (Danny wakes up and sees the thermos, danny wakes up thinks it’s all a dream and sleepily rambles secrets, danny doesn’t wake up but something else happens, etc). I'm choosing this one, but if you wanna take it in another direction feel free.

---

Daniel's face scrunches up and he makes a kind of groaning sound. John quickly backs up, motioning Clark forward. Knowing this boy simply mistook him for his actual father rather than some kind of interdimensional cosmic horror imprinting on Clark makes this both easier and harder.

“Uuuugh, what stinks?”

“I'm not sure what you mean, son.”

“Danny,” Bruce whispers softly.

“Smells like rotten eggs,” Danny mumbles sleepily, already falling back asleep with John out of the room.

“We were just cleaning out the fridge, go back to sleep.”

“Did the hotdogs start a war again?” Danny slurs. At least that's what Clark thinks the boy said. He pays it no mind as Danny's breathing evens out, sometimes dreams are just weird like that.

Clark carefully tucks Danny back in, then just as carefully leaves the room as quietly as possible. They can't risk letting the boy wake up, not until John finds a way to do something about the king.

They all move back to the kitchenette, where John tucks the travel mug out of sight in one of his deep pockets.

“You're not gonna like this,” John starts with a tired sigh. He's already tucking a cigarette, unlit, into his lips. He's also fiddling with a lighter, though they all know he knows better than to actually use it.

“Tell us,” Bruce demands, the lenses of his cowl narrowed to mere slits.

“That kid is dead as a doornail.”

Clark closes his eyes in grief, they really were too late. He listens to the slow, steady heart beat just a few rooms over, knowing that even though the body is clearly still alive that’s not what John is talking about.

“He's also fully hale and alive. My guess is the ritual killed him and the ghost king possessing him is keeping him alive. Won't know for sure without a closer look.”

Bruce frowns, “But?”

“But the kid being asleep might be the only thing keeping Pariah Dark asleep, since he was pulled straight from the Sarcophagus of Eternal Slumber. And I can't risk getting a better read without waking him up again.”

“Rotten eggs,” Clark says. “He said he smelled rotten eggs.”

“Sulfur,” Bruce adds. Not that he needs to, they all know what that means.

John nods, “He can smell the demon on me. Best if I don't get close, we can call up others to come look at him though.”

“There's only so long he'll sleep,” Bruce says ominously. “Even teenagers only sleep so long, at most maybe two hours.”

“Problem is the kid's some kinda undead now,” John replies. “No knowing how he'll react to tranqs or sleep spells. Could put him out, could do nothing and us making a fuss would wake him, could put the kid to sleep and wake up Pariah.”

Clark sighs, “So in short, we're on an unknown time crunch to figure out how to safely remove the ghost king from this boy without waking either of them up and without killing the boy in the process.”

“Got it in one, mate.”

“There’s a further complication,” Bruce says. Likely he’s about to share some of the information Oracle has been feeding him off and on this whole time, just quiet enough that Clark would have to concentrate to listen in, but he’d rather concentrate on the soft breathing of the boy just down the hall. They can’t afford to be surprised by his waking. “Amity Park advertises itself as the most haunted town in America.”

“It don’t take being the world’s greatest detective to connect being haunted with the king of all ghosts.” John sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “Alright, plan?”

Clark looks to Bruce, he is their best strategist after all.

“Constantine, contact whoever you can. Superman, keep an eye on Danny. I’ll put together a quick presentation covering all the most important information Oracle is currently digging up, it seems the cult chose Danny as the ghost king’s host very carefully.”

“Right. Great. Wonderful. Splendiferous.” John sighs one last time, “Alright, I’m going to get as far away from the poor sod as I can and get on calling in back up.” John leaves without another word.

Before Bruce can leave, Clark turns to him and asks, "Do we tell his parents?"

Bruce breaths a little heavier, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly, the closest he'll allow himself to showing emotion while in the cowl. "What can we tell them at this point?"

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[rrxnjun]

not a single dandelion ; johnny suh

pairing: johnny suh x fem! reader genre: childhood best friends to lovers ; fluff, a hint of angst, coming of age word count: 5k listen to: dandelions - ruth b. warnings: mentions of alcohol and partying a/n: happy bday vicky, i love you <3 this is my little gift haha @delicatewerewolfsoul

johnny suh has always been your whole entire sun, moon and all of the stars above. wishing for his feelings to finally be reciprocated is no use as you repeat the same ritual every year - not a single dandelion is on your side when you ask the solemn question and blow on the seeds, watching them fly away with your passing youth. years go by, yet, the question is still the same- does johnny suh finally love you back?

i.i THE SUN

Fifteen and in love for the first time, heart hurting and your eyes full of tears; you don’t think you’ll ever stop crying. Frankly speaking, you think your life is ruined just as much as your self-esteem is. The ache in your insides is physically wrenching with your soul, making you feel like you lost a piece of yourself in the flowing wind, when a figure dressed in casual clothes holds your hand to stop your movement, and crouches in front of you. Curiously watching your best friend, you realize he’s tying your shoelaces, precise movements turning the white fabric into a knot.

You haven’t even noticed your shoelace getting undone. Everything around you goes by like a blur– your shoes are the last things you care about when your heart aches so much. You’re only fifteen and you feel like your whole world is ending.

Once he’s done, he taps your ankle just the slightest– take it as a small act of encouragement. He stands up and walks alongside you again, leading you to somewhere and nowhere at all. Perhaps the heated streets are meant to distract you from your heartbreak. You don’t think it’s working quite well.

“Will you beat him up for me?” you ask, sniffling a laugh when he shakes his head in disbelief and hugs you around the shoulders.

“I mean… I wasn’t really planning on doing that, but if you really want me to, I guess I could make an exception…” he says, a joking manner filling up his voice as he stares at the crown of your head from above, ruffling your hair, “he’ll catch those hands for ever messing with my amazing best friend.”

“He deserves his ass kicked. I waited for an hour, Johnny. An hour,” you sniffle, shaking your head. Getting stood up on your date– your first date, to be exact, is nothing a girl wants to go through when she’s fifteen and so, so in love. “He said he’d call. But he never did and then- then he-”

“I know, I know,” he cuts you off, not wanting you to cry harder, because just the hint of you choking on your words is a big, fat red exclamation mark.

Johnny didn’t want to be unnecessarily annoying and ramble about how he told you so, because realistically speaking, he was the first and only one that kept telling you just how much of an asshole your newest crush is. He’s been trying to change your mind about the accepted date invitation to the last minute; but the noisy jab stays locked in his mouth, unspoken, as he hears another one of your sniffles, sighing.

“You were right,” you mumble. Here we go, then, he thinks- it’s good to know you finally acknowledge his good eye for people. He always wants what’s the best for you, right? You should’ve just trusted his opinion.

“Well,” he starts, the urge to rub it in your face instantly gone when he sees your glossy eyes staring at him from under his chin, “at least you tried. It’s okay, because you never really know unless you don’t try. Who knows, I could have been wrong and he could have been a really good guy for you. But still, you can learn from this, and that’s important.”

You hum in agreement, feeling his hand rubbing the crown of your head- efficiently messing up your hair in the process– which is something you hate with burning passion, but won’t mention right now. You watch him as he quickly strides off into the distance and makes you wait at the corner of the street. People passing you by make the whole wait even more embarrassing, as you’re sure you have mascara running down your cheeks and you look like you just went through the worst break-up of your life, but the presence of your best friend is once again your comfort as his tall figure shields you from the crowd and nudges an ice cream cone into your hand a few minutes later.

Feeling electricity run through your veins at the contact, meeting Johnny’s eyes and smiling; the world suddenly feels more cheerful than before. You’re not sure if it’s the ice cream on your tongue or the encouraging smile of your best friend in front of you, but you decide you want a boy like Johnny in your life.

A boy that would wipe away your tears and cheer you up when you need it the most. A boy that would go meet you immediately when you call him– no excuses and broken promises.

What you don’t realize at that very moment, though, is that if you want a boy exactly like Johnny, the only option is… Johnny. Because no one could quite beat him.

i.ii maybe it's the way you play your game

Sitting in a field of yellow, the dandelions around you almost blind you with their glowing rey. The sun shining down on you feels hot on your skin, falling to your body with heated kisses to your shoulders. You don’t even notice the sweat forming on your forehead, not even the shade under the big maple tree not serving you any help; you’re too busy typing away on your phone to realize that your best friend is peering at your screen over your shoulder.

“Who are you texting? I think I just saw a heart emoji,” he says, quirking up a questioning eyebrow at you as you sit a little further away from him, locking your phone so he doesn’t see. You throw a subtle glare at him for not giving you privacy, but wipe that frown away from your face as soon as you meet his eyes.

“No one,” you dote, peeping like a scared mouse. Something inside of you lights up like a fuel when you think your best friend might just be jealous of the one you’re sending yellow hearts to in your whatsapp chat. The ray of sunshine on your skin feels even hotter as your skin burns up with the thought of the message he almost read on your phone screen– not that you care about Mark from your Biology class that much, he’s just your friend you met through a shared project, after all.

“Because I don’t wanna see you texting that asshole from before,” he says, clicking his tongue, “you better not be wasting time on idiots, or else I’ll really whip out the good old ‘told you so’ when I drag you home crying the next time,” the tone of his voice is almost scolding, looking after you like any good friend would while instantly blowing down the happy bubble you had around your brain when you thought it’s going somewhere where it’s, obviously, not.

Johnny Suh could never be jealous of a boy you’re texting– he just wants to see you smile.

“It was just Mark anyway,” you say, sighing, “so you don’t have to worry,” you complete, tone of voice almost defeated, as if you were missing out on something you so dearly desired.

“Say hi to him from me,” he grins, “he should tag along some time. You two seem close.”

Johnny Suh could never be jealous. Not of Mark anyway– that boy is too kindhearted to ever break your heart. The two of them are in the same classes and you hang out with him every time Johnny doesn’t have time. Maybe you should have chosen a different name to see his reaction…

“Hmm,” you nod, “maybe one day.”

He puts his head on your shoulder, gazing off into the distance. “Do you still want me to kick the ass of that guy that broke your heart all those weeks ago?” he asks, voice soft and playful.

The irony of your feelings settling for someone else– someone so close to you he doesn’t even notice it in the first place, makes you chuckle. It’s kind of funny how those feelings you had for Yoon Jonghan from your English class are now so carefully thrown onto another person– you almost forgot how he stood you up for another girl last month. You’re only 15 and foolish. You’ll have time to regret it later.

“I’m over it already, don’t worry,” you mutter, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Hmm,” he hums, picking a single yellow dandelion from the grass to his right, twirling it between his fingers and offering it to you. Your eyes meet as he smiles when you take the flower into your hand and play with it the same way he did a few seconds ago. “Good. You should only settle for a guy that treats you just as right as I do, okay?”

With a weird feeling in your stomach, you only nod, scoffing. “Of course.”

ii.i THE MOON

Looking at the moon shining down on you, you sit at the front porch of your house only a few hours before the midnight. The lonely luna reminds you of the dandelion calmly resting in your hand; its head now white, as if it has grown old and it was its time to leave. A legend says that if you blow on a white dandelion head and all of the seeds scatter away, then you are well loved by the one that your heart desires. If some of the seeds still cling to the stalk, then your loved one has reservations about the feelings that you feel. You always found this legend at least a little romantic, yet, you never had the courage to try it out yourself. The fear of disappointment is bigger than the thrill.

Sighing, shaking your head and looking down at the flower in your hand, you decide to blow on it for the first time in your life– but something inside of you already knows that it’s gonna say exactly the opposite of what you want anyway. Taking a shaky breath in, you close your eyes and blow on the sad flower in the dark, silently repeating four words in your head that somehow remind you of a curse like a broken mantra; please love me back, please love me back, please love me back…

You almost don’t open your eyes in fear of what you’re going to see. You do it anyway, alone and feeling almost nostalgic, looking at the head of the dandelion being almost empty– but still carrying a few lost seeds. They laugh you in the face, making fun of you and your feelings for your best friend. You realize it’s perhaps a little silly, but it feels as if your heart was being taken out of your chest, as if all the years you’ve spent together were all a funny lie.

Johnny Suh could never love you back– and you can’t blame him. He’s seen you at your worst, after all. He saw you when you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone at your freshman prom, the heel of your shoe breaking as you fell face first to the ground in the spacious auditorium. He saw you crying so much that snot was running down your nose when your childhood cat ran away, he saw you when you were anxious so much to the point you’d bitten your nails to blood, hissing at the pain when he tried to hold your hand to calm you down.

There’s no way he could have loved you after all of that. He’s smart. He wouldn’t put himself through that much trouble.

The few, lonely seeds sitting at the white head of the dandelion remind you of the loneliness you feel inside. Johnny isn’t sitting by your side like he always used to be during those sad nights, talking your feelings out and making sure you fall asleep soundly after he leaves. He’s not there to hold you tight when you complain about your mother and cry about missed assignments anymore.

You’re eighteen and you feel like your whole world is ending.

Johnny doesn’t love you back– and it’s no surprise, really. And how could you ever think he would? Silly you. Wishing on a dandelion while he’s on a date with another girl.

ii.ii I've never dreamed of nobody like you

Laying in your bed, nose stuffed and the medicine left on your bedside table. This is how Johnny finds you after the whole day, making sure you are okay. College is a difficult time, and while you had your mum to take care of you when you were sick while you lived back home, your college dorms are just too far away for her to know if you have a fever or if you need warm soup.

That’s when Johnny comes in– being the human personification of your guardian angel, or so it seems.

Your best friend was always one of the caring ones. While he made sure to laugh at your weirdly sounding sneezes the whole day and fakely gagged when he had to throw out your wet tissues to your trash can at the other side of the small room, you knew he did it all with love. And maybe a little bit of salt– and you don’t blame him, the snot-covered tissues really aren’t the best thing to touch after two long Business lectures, but that’s what he gets for caring so much.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumble, staring at him with glossy eyes. You’re too tired to try to hide the lovesick gaze filling your orbs, but he is too oblivious to notice it anyway. You’ve noticed that after long years of yearning, and while everyone else around you knew that you were pretty much in love with your best friend, he himself, although he claimed to be smart, never figured it out.

“Anything for you,” he says matter-of-factly, putting on his warmest jacket and going over to your bed to flick your forehead, prepared to leave and get some sleep. It’s late, after all, and he can’t sleep over in your dorm room. “You’re like my sister, after all.”

A low snicker leaves your mouth at that, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly.”

You watch the man leave your room, completely unaware of how much his words affected your poor, small heart. You’re twenty now. It’s been years.

Maybe you should finally move on.

ii.iii I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

Not a single dandelion is able to make him love you back. No matter how much you blow on it and wish to find the seeds flying away with the wind, leaving you with an empty stem in your hands, they just keep on sticking to the very top, the white head reminding you of the moon you watch on dark evenings like these, when everything seems so okay, but so messed up at the same time.

“What do you wanna listen to?” he asks you, playing with the radio of his car with one hand and driving with the other, but still paying attention to the road.

“Anything. I don’t care,” you mumble, watching the scenery behind the windows change in the dark. The lampposts blur your vision as you pass them by and let reality take you away into another world. It’s been a long, stressful week at college and while you only wanted to sleep, Johnny took it upon himself to take you out somewhere to destress first.

The speakers suddenly play your favorite song, a hint of a smile creeping up your cheeks when you realize Johnny purposely played a tune so dear to your heart, even though he made sure to tease you how you only listen to underground artists to seem cool in front of the campus kids when you showed him your new favorite song the other day.

Driving through a tunnel, there’s a hint of orange sitting on his cheeks that almost makes you want to reach over and take his face into your hands, examining the features you know by heart by now. How could you not– you dream of them almost every night. Sometimes, you wish you wouldn’t wake up. You like it better there, with him.

“Is it far?” you ask, snapping back to reality. “I’m bored,” you say, hearing him snicker.

“I even put your favorite music on! Stop being a baby and just trust the process,” he says, rolling his eyes at you and playfully slapping your thigh, making you laugh.

His touch on your skin remains.

The car finally gets to its final destination. A starry hill away from the city invites you to its silence, the chaos and the stress long forgotten as you stare at all the faceless homes under you. Getting out of the car and sitting on the trunk, you feel your best friend’s presence appearing when he takes his place next to you and leans on his own car. It’s beaten-up and old– it’s second hand, so no wonder, but it’s enough for him. He’s a broke college student, there’s only so much he can afford with the money he gets from his work at the nearby café. You would even say the car suits him. You always thought Johnny had kind of an old soul.

Or perhaps, he was always just the more mature one between the two of you.

“Is this where you take all your dates nowadays?” you joke, looking at him in the moonlight. The white glow on his skin makes his features stand out, his eyes gleam with broken galaxies in them. You could stare at him for hours and you wouldn’t ever get bored.

You don’t think he ever looked more beautiful.

A smirk appears on his face, almost mocking you for your noisy question. You don’t think he knows the real reason behind it, though– he’s unaware of your hidden jealousy and bitterness that coats your heart any time you see a girl from your campus tag his account on her Instagram story late at night, when you study for your exams in your dorm room.

He shakes his head, playfully nudging you with his hip.

“Only the best ones.”

iii.i THE STARS

You feel fingers drumming against the skin of your naked calf, the casual rhythm almost lullying you to sleep. A quiet hum escapes Johnny’s mouth as he carries you home on his back, your hands snuggly wrapped around his neck. Your heels are in your grasp and you are pretty sure you feel your purse bumping you into your asscheeks as it’s carelessly thrown over your neck and out of the way.

“Parties aren’t good for you, honey. Maybe you shouldn’t go again,” he mumbles when he halts in his steps and secures you on his back, hostling you higher. His steady steps show that you’re not as heavy as you sometimes think you are– or maybe he’s just strong. Who knows… (judging by the time he spends at the gym, you think it must be the second option. Oh well…)

“But I like to party,” you mumble, pouting. Another sigh escapes the man’s lips as he shakes his head in disbelief, his soft hair tickling your cheek when you settle your head into the crook of his neck from behind.

“But you’re bad at handling alcohol, sweetie. One day, you’ll puke on that guy’s white cashmere carpet in the living room and he’ll have you pay for it. And do you want that? Hm?” he asks, the scolding tone ever so present in his voice. It reminds you of the time when he talked to you about dating bad guys and getting lied to by rude girls in middle school. It’s like looking out for you, but acting just a little bit like your dad by making you look out for yourself so it doesn’t happen again.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not cashmere, Johnny…” you doze off, making him huff under you.

“Well, who cares. I bet it’s expensive. And you’re broke,” he emphasizes, making a breathy chuckle leave your mouth. If you really think about it, he’s right. He always is…

“Okay, fine… I won’t- I won’t drink again,” you hiccup, yawning, “but it’s nice to get piggy back rides home from you from time to time,” you grin, a teasing tone seeping through your words.

“If you really wanted me to carry you around, you could have just asked,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “you don’t have to ruin your liver for that, honey.”

“Don’t call me honey,” you pout. Johnny is big on nicknames. If it’s anything close to being a little cringey, he absolutely adores to call you that. You’ve learned to get used to sugarbum, sweetie-pie and sexy pants over time, but that’s when you’re sober. When you’re under the influence of alcohol, you can’t quite control your emotions that well.

“Why?” he asks with the same amount of pout in his voice, making you giggle.

“Because- oh look at that!” you gasp in the middle of your sentence, making your companion jump up a little when you shriek into his ear.

“What?”

“There!” you point your finger into the distance, the area under the lamppost illuminating the short grass. Your heels dangle from your hand when Johnny brings your arm lower so you don’t poke out his eye with your shoe.

You can almost hear the confusion in his voice. “What is there?”

“The dandelion!” you yell out, so excited it’s almost concerning. “Pick it for me?” you pout.

And Johnny does just that– he crouches a little with an over-exaggerated sigh, of course, and picks up the lonely white dandelion under the lamp. Once he brings it to your hand and finds you twirling it around in your grasp, he only scoffs as he puts you down– much to your dismay, because you’re bare-foot and drunk, to take out the keys from your purse and unlocks the front door of your apartment complex.

You haven’t even noticed you were home.

When the door is open, he wastes no time in holding you by your hand and walking you inside. The ride up the elevator passes by like a dream when he drops you off in front of your flat, brushing your hair back with his fingers.

“Drink some water and sleep on your side, okay?” he orders, seeing you nod. It’s not the first time you’ve been drunk– and while you can’t quite walk straight, Johnny knows you can take care of yourself well once you’re home safe and sound.

“Good night sweetie,” he smiles. He’s almost back in the elevator, ready to go back down, when you reach for his hand and stop him.

“Hm?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

You open your mouth and bring the dandelion in front of your lips, blowing on it. Johnny watches you with a soft look in his eyes, your own eyes closed shut as you repeat the same four words in your brain since you were fifteen. Opening your eyes, you squint to see the dandelion almost empty.

Still, there’s a single white seed sitting soundly on top of your dandelion, making your wish unfulfilled.

“Sleep well,” he smiles, reaching over and planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

Watching him leave, you sigh. It’s okay. You’ll try again next time.

iii.ii and I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

It’s been ages since you were back in the town where you grew up in. The flowers around you smell like your childhood and make you smile when you feel the familiar caress of the sun on your shoulders. You just graduated, deciding to spend a few months back at home before you look for a job somewhere else. It’s not that you hate your hometown– you just like the idea of a big city where you could get lost in much better.

The field of dandelions reminds you of Johnny. Even now, he’s sitting next to you. Never once did you lose him in the journey of growing up. He’s always been by your side.

Maybe that’s what’s so hard about letting you move on. Once you think you finally have the courage to let your feelings go, you look at him and feel the same comfort you always have.

That’s the thing– loving Johnny is easy. However tragic it may sound, you never once regretted it. Your heart chose him when you were 15 and you never once scolded it for settling on your best friend. If you could have a re-do, you’d do everything just the same so you could end up with him here, like this. You’re okay with the idea of just loving him, no strings attached, no hard feelings, no heartbreak and no regrets.

His eyes are gently closed in the sunlight, the maple tree over the two of you shielding him just the slightest. You think he’s taking a nap. A smile creeps onto your cheeks as you watch his frown slowly go away, the curve of his lips reminding you of a curious cat. His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones. You think he feels you staring at him– he shifts just a little, finding a better spot in the grass. Sighing, you turn to look around.

You’re both adults now. But your lives are just as intertwined as the roots of the tree above you.

Finding a lost dandelion only a few meters to your left, you can’t hold yourself back. Picking the flower, you twirl it in between your fingers. It reminds you of your youth. Somewhere along the way, it became your favorite flower– it’s always been your closest companion, after all.

The smiling yellow dandelion was with you on sunny days of summer. The white, puffy dandelions were always with you in late summer, scattered all around the fields and parks at your college campus. You could perhaps say that the flower is quite celestial– the yellow head representing the sun, the white one the moon, and the seeds scattering in the wind are the stars lonely sitting in the darkness of the night.

You could call Johnny everything and that. Your sun, moon, and all the stars above. He’s your everything. Maybe you’re just a little cliche.

It’s alright. You’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

Opening your mouth and closing your eyes shut, you try for the last time. You tell yourself that you’re old enough now to stop dreaming– old enough to stop wishing on a hopeless flower in the dandelion field. A weak spark of hope lights itself up in your insides when you blow on it, but it dies a few seconds later, when a frown finds its way back onto your face after you open your eyes and find the white seeds all sitting on the stem, peaceful as ever.

“Why do you rely on that flower so much anyway?” Johnny suddenly asks from beside you, startling you.

Shrugging, you reply. “I don’t know. It’s just something that stayed with me from childhood. If the seeds all fly away, the one I love loves me back. And if they don’t…” you trail off, feeling a little silly.

“Hmm,” he hums, sitting up beside you and glancing at your face. You suddenly feel shy, already knowing what he’ll ask next.

“And who is it that you love?”

“Well…” you chuckle, averting his gaze. You feel your cheeks heating up from shyness, chewing on your bottom lip. You could lie to him and say just whoever. Or you could perhaps say you don’t love anyone– that’s why the seeds always stay on top of the stem, laughing in your face. Or you could… you could just tell him the truth. And own up to it, after all those years.

“You,” you peep, glancing at him from under your eyelashes. Your whole posture is stern, frozen in its place despite the warmness of the sun shining down on your face. Waiting for him to reject you, you grow weak, almost letting the flower fall onto the ground, when your best friend catches it and grins.

Opening his mouth and blowing on it as hard as he can, you watch all the seeds scatter away like shooting stars. Johnny then shrugs, throwing the empty stem to the grass next to him.

“Well, the flower confirmed it, so I have to trust you now…” he teases, making you roll your eyes and playfully nudge him with your foot.

“Oh, shut up-”

“And since it’s stubborn and doesn’t want you to know when you try it, you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that I love you back,” he shrugs, the nonchalance of him almost making his confession fly over your head.

“Johnny-”

“What? Not what you wanted to hear?” he asks, his grin only widening. “Well, if you don’t trust me, I’m ready to find even a hundred of those stupid dandelions and you better blow hard enough to make the seeds fly away, okay?” he says, standing up from his position and gazing into the dandelion field, eyes scattering to find some to bring to you.

“Johnny…” you grin and shake your head in disbelief, tugging him down by his hand and smiling at his face.

And when you watch him observe you so lovingly, the glint in his eye just as playful as when you were both fifteen, you realize one thing– he always had you, and you always had him.

Not a single dandelion could make your love go away.

[fooltofancy]

Best IF blogs to follow? Either sexy WIPs or just people posting about them generally.

before i actually answer this i need you to know i have like 54 tabs open in my phone right now and every single one of them that isn't the tab i do browsing in is an if.

THAT SAID, apart from @interact-if i don't think i follow any blogs that are specifically geared toward interactive fiction, but that's a great place to start!

without further rambling ado, some recs -

the porthecrawl witness by @porthecrawl-witness - we love us some time shenanigans in insular little towns, tbh. real melancholy undertones but without feeling abject or unhopeful? dig it.

diaspora by @diasporatheblog - genuinely stressful political intrigue couched in impeccable worldbuilding and some of the warmest characters and relationships i've encountered in IF? just. love the hell out of diaspora. also long. if you want to spend a solid Many Hours just basking in a well-developed world, diaspora is for you.

the golden rose by @anathemafiction - i am SO jazzed for the golden rose to come out my dudes i don't even have words. just like, the most charming experience. anachronistic history, i guess? can't wait to learn more about this world.

wayfarer by @idrellegames - the variation in this game? so much fun to explore, so many aspects of character development. fuckin love it. i have a lot of emotions and it's only been like.... half of a chapter.

speaker by @speakergame - desperate seer vibes, loving but exasperating family vibes, found extra family vibes???? love everything about speaker.

bad ritual by @heart-forge - do love a story the premise for which is just sort of a series of "aw, fuck"s and what you're gonna do about 'em. bonus giant, extremely loveable demons. shoutout also to manor hill and hybrid, both super cool projects.

virtue's end by @crimsiswrites - undergoing rewrites atm, and i'm full of excite. have determined that slightly baffled and full of monster is my new favorite character dynamic.

lost birds by @if-lostbirds - very brief demo at the moment, but holy shit the desolate vibes.

the remainder by @the-remainder - art and vibes IMPECCABLE. big old questions of identity and self via some ill-timed (self-inflicted?) amnesia.

body count by @bodycountgame - realtalk i wasn't super interested in this concept when it first came across my recs, but oh my god, dudes. the characters and writing are so endearing and i can't wait to see where it goes even though it's gonna hurt.

when it hungers by @roast-ifs - i have a thing for characters rebuilding life around trauma and lost memories, if that wasn't like. glaringly and painfully obvious. BIG THAT, here.

OFNA: birds of a feather by @ofna - i just really, really like birds. and liars.

project hadea by @nyehilismwriting - obviously i have been failing to summarize anything about any of these games, but i WILL say that any chance to play an idiot determined only to have their ass handed to them before the story really starts, i will take. project hadea def let me fulfill that impulse. sentinel is also so, so worth it.

larkin by @larkin-if - cowboys and vampires. 'nuff said.

faith of gods by @faithofgods - haven't had time to play through all of the recent update so i have NO idea what's going on, but u know what. character interactions are choice. and also fraught with unease.

blood moon by @barbwritesstuff - i love these werewolves. every single goddamn one of them. ALSO could not love the full moon updates more, like what a thing.

the northern passage by @northern-passage - i am so fucking enamored of these characters and this story, dude. the writing is gorgeous and i feel Very Many Both Painful and Wonderful Things about it that i don't really have the brain to express, but hh. tnp my beloved.

the nameless by @parkerlyn - LADS, this worldbuilding. the sheevra are a very cool play on fae tropes and mythos and i am here for it.

mind blind by @mindblindbard - did i mention i'm mildly obsessed with guilt and the process of overcoming that hugely traumatic thing, because i AM and i was NOT expecting that to be such an intense theme in this slice-of-life (trauma included) romp through psych-powered chicago. you're allowed to not play as an idiot, too, which is okay i guess.

event horizon by @if-eventhorizon - there are some very intense and difficult themes happening in this wip straight out of the gate on some paths (memory loss, loss of self, lots of trauma processing in a space NOT made for the processing of trauma), but i'm impressed with how they're handled and also already woefully attached to thirteen, to the surprise of no one.

[bl-bracket]

Look, I just got off work, it's quite late and I'm tired (not to mention a bit sick) but I simply cannot go to bed tonight until I've given my campaign statement for The Cashier cause that's my number one guy. So apologies in advance for whatever strange rambling mess this turns into because I'm honestly not fully with it atm.

Anyways this guy is so crazy that I haven't stopped thinking about him once since 3 months since season one ended season 2 when despite the fact that he's like in 1.5 scenes and doesn't have a canonical name

So to set the scene, everyone around the world is currently watching the moon expanded and explode and are told that there are only a few hours left before the world ends. Enter The One, who is having fun with all of this and goes to a local convenience store that is still open. Obviously he asks him about it.

And then this guy's first line in the entire show is telling him that his drink is 666 baht. Now this show uses all kinds of references to Christianity and is absolute batshit (think Supernatural but 10 1-hour long episodes and thai) so this literally could just be a little nod to The One's alignment or just an actual full on hint that this guy is like the Anti-Christ or something lol. But also iconic first line to have in a show

Anyways even though the world is ending this dude still makes people pay for their stuff which is just very hilarious to me.

And then The One questions him further and the dude is basically just like "the world sucks already it might as well end" which is a big customer service mood

The One questions him about his fear of death, to which he says he doesn't care since it's inevitable. And then The One is just like "oh you don't know what it's like to die" and when the cashier questions him about THAT he's just like "oh well I'm Death :3"

And like for a moment he seems like he might have idk a normal reaction to having a guy enter his store during the end of the world and claim to be death but then he just laughs it off and reaches over for the drink that The One hasn't paid for yet and opens it and hands it over and says "it's on me" which every time I watch just makes me yell "THE RITUALS!!!!" (the gay ones to touch the flesh of other men, not the actual cult rituals to resurrect God that are happening in the show at the same time)

Anyways in the 0.5 scene that he's in, it's been like approx 8 hours since The One entered and he's still just chilling there eating noodles and the cashier is joking about how they've still got time before the world end until BAM The One's body (that he is currently stealing from like Adam from the Bible) gets taken over by a different supernatural entity and the cashier is obviously freaked out cause wtf is going on (but also hehehe not so apathetic about suffering and death now are we) and then "The One" bolts out the store and the cashier calls after him and that's that. Never see or hear from this guy again.

Anyways he's a barely there character in the final episode that's main functionality was for The One to drop the line about being Death for the first time now and not later during his villain monologue. But still I'm 1) obsessed with him and 2) convinced that he and The One for sure made out during that 8 hour time skip.

Anyways pretty please vote The Cashier for me and also if you haven't watched Midnight Museum, the production company has it for free on youtube fully subbed and it will definitely be one of the stranger 10 hour rides of your life that's for sure

Group E Round 4

[image ID: the first image is of The Cashier, a Thai man in a white or light blue polo shirt and black cap. at least one of his ears are pierced. the second image is of Stag Malinay, a young man with auburn hair and yellow-orange eyes. he's wearing a black shirt, black pants, and black, lace up knee high boots with belt straps. he's sitting on a red and gold throne. beside him is written his name, "Stag Malinay." end ID]

The Cashier

The world is literally ending. The moon is exploding. And this guy is still working as a cashier at some convenience store because the world might as well end anyways. He still insists that people pay for what they get from the store even though the world is going to end in a few hours. Then this strange guy shows up and questions him about it and asks him if he's afraid to die. The cashier is like "no not really" and the guy responds "well clearly you don't know what it's like to die" and the cashier responds "well have you died before" and the guy is like "no. I'm Death >:3" so what does the cashier do? he buys the man a drink and lets him crash at the store for the next several hours until the guy gets possessed by a different supernatural entity and runs out of the store to try to save the world. The cashier is just such a chill guy and insane customer service worker I love him so much I wish he had a name in canon.

Stag Malinay

Very self confident, bisexual manwhore with a troubled background he doesn't like to talk about. Said past is the cause of all his anger issues which he regularly takes out on the MC, initially. They become friends later, so it's okay. Also, he has a Tumblr account! @stagmalinay, run by me, the author. Can't really get more obscure than only selling a few copies of my entire book so far. [additional propaganda 1] [additional propaganda 2] [additional propaganda 3] [additional propaganda 4] [additional propaganda 5] [additional propaganda 6]

[rendevousz]

niagara falls of blood?

avengers x fem!teen!reader

summary: pretty much what the title is, you on your period

warnings: your moodswings ig

word count: 2765

"rise and shine, y/n!" you hear an annoying voice sing just as the lights flickered on. you grumbled something inaudible, hiding underneath your blanket to shield yourself from the brightness that steve just brought upon your room.

"y/n/n, come on. wakey-wakey!" you groan, feeling super unmotivated to train today. you even felt like punching steve in his perfect-looking face just for waking you up at the crack ass of dawn. this was unusual because you loved jogs before the sun came up and trainings before it hit noon.

"steve, if you don't shut the hell up right now, i'm gonna push you into that lake beside our usual jogging route."

"jeez, y/n, woke up on the wrong side or what?" he teases, finally leaving once he saw you were already sitting up. you groggily walked to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth before changing into your workout clothes.

"no!" you whine when you saw that you were on your period. that's why you were in a crappy mood when steve woke you up. you begrudgingly dressed up after putting on a pad, grabbing a small towel on the way out.

like you did every morning, you were gonna go on a run with steve, bucky and sam. while you loved running, you hated how steve and bucky "cheated" —as you and sam liked to call it— with their super soldier staminas. that was why you loved having sam there. not only was he great company but he was also moral support because you two would always be hilariously overtook by steve and bucky multiple times. but that didn't matter because you two would always be completely immersed in your conversations every time.

but not today though. you already knew today was going to be different. you had gotten a bad start to the day with steve's and your usual morning routine which somehow annoyed you this one time. and having to run around with your cramps definitely didn't help lighten your mood.

"kid, you okay?" sam asks from your right side. you'd been silent throughout the whole run and sam knew something was up when you didn't laugh at his jokes like how you usually would. "just cramps. they're hurting a lot so i'm probably gonna skip training today." you explain and he slowed down his pace causing you to slow down too since you always had to run side by side.

"y/n/n, you should probably stop now if you're having cramps. it might make it worse—i think? i don't know, actually. i don't know how periods work but i know cramps hurt a lot so i think you should stop. yeah, you should stop." his rambling speech made you feel a bit better now knowing he wants you to take care of yourself. "you know what? yeah, i think i'm gonna go. sorry i have to leave you with the two cheaters."

he smiled at you, telling you not to worry about it. you were touched and your mood significantly brightened but before you could reply him, rhythmic footsteps echoed from a distance from behind you two and you knew what was coming.

"on your left."

before steve and bucky could just pass by peacefully like they did the past nine times, you managed to throw a punch to steve's side, effectively slowing him down when he stumbled and then completely stopped. "what gives, y/n?!" bucky then stopped too, wanting to know what was up.

"that's for this morning." you glared at him and he looked at you in confusion, holding onto his side where you punched him. though you were significantly smaller than he was—than any of them were, really—, you could definitely throw a punch. speaking of punch, you gave him another on his other side and he flinched, giving you an incredulous look, one that resembled betrayal.

"and that's for being a cheater." you narrowed your eyes at him. "oN yOuR LeFt." you mocked him, rolling your eyes before ultimately leaving the trio to walk back to the tower. they looked at your fading figure and exchanged looks with each other in confusion. "what...what just happened?"

"y/n's on her period so we gotta be careful with her." sam explained and steve being steve, his cheeks tinted slight pink as the thought slightly embarrassed him.

"period? you mean the niagra falls of blood," bucky states, taking a long sip out his water bottle. sam rolled his eyes at this but nodded anyways. "also, she doesn't want training today so unless any of you have a death wish, don't call her down for anything other than for food, got it?"

"yes, sir."

"got it."

-

"you do it,"

"i don't want to, you do it."

"can one of you just do it? why don't you guys want to wake y/n up?" nat stopped bucky and steve's little argument as she turned away from the stove for a bit. "you two love waking her up and carrying her down to eat. what happened?"

"womanhood happened," steve mumbled bitterly, rubbing his sides where you hit him this morning. apparently you had hit him hard enough to bruise a little. nat rolled her eyes in realisation. "period?"

"no, no, not period. satan's montly ritual inside of y/n. you should've seen her this morning, nat. it was like she was possessed!" steve exaggerates. "okay, let's not be dramatic here," bucky rolls his eyes at his best friend. steve only looked at him with fear in his eyes and bucky sighs. "fine, i'll do it. but if i don't return, tell sam he still can't have my snacks. no one can have my snacks."

nat only shakes her head before turning back to the stove to finish cooking lunch.

meanwhile, bucky was making his way up to your room. deep down he was scared to face you after your episode in the morning. "y/n/n? doll, it's lunch." he spoke when he entered your room. he melted when he saw you all snuggled up in bed, asleep, hugging your life-sized teddy bear that tony gifted you last christmas.

"doll? time to eat," he whispered, gently shaking you awake. you slowly opened your eyes to see bucky sitting on your bed, trying to wake you up from your nap. "what time is it?" you asked, rubbing your eyes, your lips jutting out subconsciously. bucky internally cooed at how adorable you looked. "it's afternoon, you skipped breakfast so nat wants you to eat lunch." he tells you.

"tell her i'm sleepy," you said, adjusting yourself back under the blanket. "y/n/n, you gotta eat. nat's gonna kill me if i go back down there without you." he shakes you again and you look up at him with you doe eyes. "then don't go back down. cuddle me, jamesie!" you pouted, giving him your best sad puppy look.

he had a brief internal battle with himself before losing and giving in, slipping next to you and hugging you, providing you warmth that even your blanket couldn't provide. bucky knew nat would have his head but how could he say no to that adorable face? and you using his real name? ultimate weakness.

soon, you were back asleep, cuddling up to him. he smiled down at you, loving how peaceful you seemed when you were sleeping. and before he knew it, he too fell asleep.

-

"what's taking him so long?" nat huffed and steve's jaw dropped slightly, looking at her in worry. "who's telling sam he can't have bucky's snacks?"

"don't be ridiculous, steve. go get them or i'm telling sam he can't have your snacks too." steve sighs, getting up from the barstool and making his way up to your room.

safe to say he was expecting pretty much anything but the sight of you and bucky asleep, cuddled up to each other. steve's lips jutted out and he cooed at you both. he snapped a quick picture before approaching you two, sitting on your bed beside your sleeping figure.

"y/n/n? sweetie, you need to eat." he says softly as he shook you awake. the shaking seemed to wake bucky up too and when your eyes fluttered open, steve smiled down at you. "bubba? it's lunch," he looks over at bucky in disappointment for having fallen asleep when he had a task. bucky only shrugs his shoulders as if saying 'hey man, i had no choice'.

"stevie?" you groaned out and he smiled. "come on, let's go have lunch, nat is waiting downstairs." he tries to get you to sit up but you resist. "come sleep, stevie," you pulled the same trick you did with bucky and it's no surprise the blond super-soldier fell for it too. everyone had a soft spot for you.

steve laid next to you and you're then sandwiched between two super-soldiers, already falling back asleep in just seconds.

"you know nat's gonna kill us, right buck?"

"then let her try. we can use y/n/n to get out of it. i mean, can you even recall the last time anyone said no to that adorable face?"

"sam says no to her sometimes."

"yeah but he always ends up feeling bad so,"

"okay yeah, you're right."

"that's exactly why we're stuck in this situation, right dear ol' stevie? so i say we just sleep and if nat tries to scold us, we'll technically be under y/n/n's protection because nat won't scream in our faces in front of her."

"good call. night, buck."

"night, steve."

-

"i can't believe i sent two super-soldier idiots to go wake up y/n on her period. i didn't think they meant it literally when they were afraid they weren't gonna come back." nat paces around the kitchen and wanda watches in amusement. it had been almost a whole hour since bucky was sent to get you and thirty minutes since steve was sent to do so too and both men hadn't returned with you for lunch.

"do you really think y/n/n is having a temper tantrum or something and those idiots are caught in the middle of it?" nat asks and wanda shook her head. "i doubt. y/n can get a little cranky but only if provoked. y/n on her period is overall a sweetheart like she always is. maybe steve was being annoying this morning. i mean, he always is annoying during morning jogs because he always has to announce when he overtakes us." wanda rolls her eyes at the fact.

"okay, you know what? come with me to get them. i mean with our joint forces, there's no way we're going to get sucked into whatever those idiots did. let's go,"

nat didn't give the younger woman a chance to reply before she's storming upstairs to your room and wanda had no choice but to rush along.

-

"well? are we going to wake them up or what?" wanda asks nat, not taking her eyes off the adorable sight she was met with right as she entered your room.

"i want to get mad at steve and bucky for not waking her up because she hasn't eaten yet but somehow i can't." nat states, looking like she's having an existential crisis.

"well, no lunch for these three, i guess. they better have dinner though or i'm actually going to get mad. let's go, wands." nat closes your door, but not before snapping a pic of you three cuddled up and sending it to the group chat.

nat: [attached photo]

peter: OMG SHE LOOKS SO TINY AND ADORABLE SQUISHED IN BETWEEN THOSE TWO 🥺🥺🥺

tony: IS THAT SAFE? CAN MY BABY EVEN BREATHE PROPERLY?????? NAT WHY ARE YOU JUST LETTING IT HAPPEN

wanda: stark, she's fine

thor: aw, i hope lady y/n gets all the rest she needs. she looks peaceful 🥰

clint: wait no fair i wanna cuddle her too 🥺😭

sam: dang it does this mean i still can't have bucky's snacks

bucky: stay away from my snacks.

-

"look who finally decided to show." you hear tony tease when you finally came down to dinner.

after waking up an hour prior, you woke up the two super-soldiers sandwiching you by pushing them off your bed. they couldn't even be mad at you when you had burst out in contagious laughter at your own stunt, before leaving to let you wash up.

"how are you feeling, sweetie?" bruce asks you as you sat in between him and tony on the dining table. "i'm good, bruce, why do you ask?"

"we've been hearin' a lot about you today, cupcake." tony winks at you before continuing to eat his food. you pout at him. "bad things?"

"no, no, no, not bad things, never bad things. you're the sweetest little cupcake and everyone loves you. now eat your food," tony pretends to make an angry face at you and you listen to him, smiling as you do so.

after dinner, you decided to lounge in the common room for a bit to watch tv and thor, clint, wanda and sam decide to join you.

"what are we watching?" sam asks as he plops down next to you on the couch. "i don't know, i'm kinda in the mood to watch my little pony." you quipped happily. "my little pony? that stupid ponies cartoon where the purple unicorn has magic and becomes a princess?"

"it's not stupid," you muttered under your breath, suddenly getting upset that he thought my little pony was stupid. "if you guys don't want to watch, i guess we can watch whatever you want." you told the rest who were already seated, a sad expression on your face.

"bubs! of course we want to watch it! right, sam?" wanda glares at sam as she asked him through gritted teeth. "y–yes! yes, we'll watch my little pony!" he replies quickly. "okay!" you cheer, leaning back against the couch as you turned the show on.

after an episode was done, you seemed to have gotten the others hooked on it because they asked for another episode. well, except for sam because he decided one episode was enough and it was time to sleep so he left.

"okay," you giggled, happy that they liked the show. "but i'm going to go get my snacks first." you walked to the kitchen to quickly get your bag of pretzels from the pantry. you were pretty sure it was the period moodswings that were causing your emotions to be all over the place because you cried. you cried because you were so excited to go get your snacks, only to find that it had been stolen.

you trudged back into the living room with a tear-stained face and wanda immediately stands up. "bubs, what's wrong?" she held both your shoulders as she looked down at you. you hiccup. "i–i think pete took my pretzel sticks." you pouted to try keep the incoming tears at bay but they managed to drop anyways.

"i'll kill him," clint stands up, hands held out in a fighting stance. "how dare he steal y/n/n's snacks." wanda rolls her eyes at his antics and gives him a look that tells him to back down.

"lady y/n," thor calls from his spot on the couch. you turn to him. "i have a stash of poptarts if you want?" he offered and as kind as his intentions were, you only wanted your pretzel sticks. you dropped down to the floor, staring silently into nothing.

"y/n," clint places a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to get up but you didn't. you looked up at him with a small pout and glossy eyes and he cracked. "alright, thor, come with me to the grocery store. we're getting y/n/n's snacks,"

thor immediately gets up, following clint out the door. you couldn't believe that the avengers' own archer and god of thunder were willing to go out just to buy you snacks.

twenty minutes later, they came back with bags of different snacks but most importantly, your pretzel sticks. you ran to them, giving them the biggest hug you could give, prompting chuckles and hair ruffles from them. "anything for you, kiddo."

despite having just gotten your snack, you fell asleep ten minutes into the next episode and thor goes to carry you back to your room. he sets you down gently on your bed, pulling your blanket up so that you were warm.

"sleep well, lady y/n." he kisses the side of your head before leaving. and sleep well you did because you had an awesome family take care of you.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa

[rinarecommends]

Serotonin - Sero x F!Reader

Serotonin is thought to regulate mood, anxiety, and happiness in our bodies.

italicized text is meant to be spanish, however, I don’t speak spanish, and I didn’t want to try to google translate and it be wrong. Latin sero is KING though.

Nobody ever wants to be a cliche, right? But here you were being one. You became roommates with Hanta Sero a little over a year ago, and you slowly fell in love with him, irrevocably in love with him, but you were determined to suffer through it because you were sure that he would never feel the same. He was a HERO for crying out loud, a damn good one. He could have anyone he wanted, with his neat quirk that may or may not bring about not so safe thoughts, at times, and his spanish accent that would make any man or woman drop their pants, especially when he was mad, but it wasn’t just that. He was caring, always trying to save the day and people. He would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it, it’s just who he was. He was loving, especially towards his friends and family, if the pictures hung all over the two bedroom apartment that you guys shared were any indication, even if one of those friends was a blonde asshole who was the epitome of anger in human form. He was everything you wanted, and all the things you never thought you needed all wrapped up in one person. It wasn’t really a problem, living with him while being in love with him. He didn’t date because he was too busy with hero work, so you didn’t have to see him with other women, or even think about him possibly being with someone else, until today. 

Today, you woke up like any other day. You ate the same breakfast. You did the same morning routine, except when you walked out of your room, you walked into sero arguing with someone over the phone, in spanish. You could tell it was an argument because of the language his body was using.

 “I know his ideas are normally bad, but I can not think of any other viable option, Kirishima. I need these feelings to go away, look at her and look at me, she 's perfect and she deserves someone just as perfect.” 

He angrily hung up the phone and drug his fingers through his hair in frustration, and that’s when you decided to pipe up to let him know that you were in the room with him. 

“Hanta, are you okay?” You said making him jump in surprise, and he turned to you, forcing a smile on his face, but you could tell it was forced. 

“Everything’s fine. I was just talking with Kaminari and Kirishima, and they said something stupid that set me on edge, that’s all. Anyways, Goodmorning Sweetheart.” You felt your body flush at the usual pet name that he gave you, it always made your heart flutter. You smiled brightly at him. 

“Goodmorning Cellophane.” You teased at his hero name. He rolled his eyes and scanned the room, searching for something. You could tell he found it when his eyes lit up like a christmas tree. He sighed in relief, picking up the hero belt that he had finally found after searching for it the whole time while he was on the phone, but it was just his luck for it to be hiding in plain sight. 

“I’ll be out later tonight than usual, so we won’t be able to watch movies like we usually do on friday nights. Sorry Sweetheart.” He said with his back turned to you. Your heart dropped to your feet. You always looked forward to the movie nights that became a ritual for you and him. If you didn’t know better, you’d consider them dates. 

“Oh? Work Event?” You asked with curiosity, wondering what could drag him away from movie night, knowing it had to be something related to work. 

“No, not this time. Kaminari has set me up on a date with a girl he knows, and I told him I’d go. Give dating a shot, y’know, get back out there in the field.” He rambled out, but you weren’t paying any attention. As soon as the word “date” left his mouth, your heart crumbled after each word thereafter. You forced a smile onto your face while your heart broke into a thousand pieces while screaming at you to stop him, tell him how you feel, but you let it break and silenced its screams, letting your brain convince you that it was not a good idea. Letting him know you had feelings for him could mess everything up, and you loved hanta, loved living with him, loved being his friend. You didn’t want to ruin that.

“That’s great, Hanta. I am so happy for you.” You were not happy. You knew you should be. If this was what he wanted, you should be happy for him, but you weren’t. You wanted him to want you, wanted him to love you.

“Yeah. I think it might be a good thing. Everyone needs someone to love them and be loved in return, right?” Yes. Yes they did. 

“Right!” You said with enthusiasm that you could only hope sounded genuine. He smiled at you one last time before he walked out the door, headed to work as a hero.

Once you knew he was gone, you sighed, but it came out shaky and before you knew it, you were crying, sobbing really. You felt this sharp pain through your heart as if something was squeezing and would not let go. You knew in that moment, you were experiencing real heartbreak, and the only thing to do when you’re heart broken? Call your best friend. 

It rang twice before she picked up, and if you weren’t so upset, you’d smile because you knew you could always count on the ever reliable Mina Ashido.

“Yo Bestie.” She said as she answered, her typical nonchalant greeting for answering your calls. You opened your mouth to say something to her, but all that came out was a sob. 

“I’ll be there in ten.” She said without you having to say anything, hanging up the call quickly to get to you. You let your phone fall out of your hand, clattering to the floor. How could everything go to hell so fast? You were living peacefully with the man you were secretly in love with, with no problems in sight, now he was going on a date, and it felt like the end of the world. 

She made it in eight. She came into your apartment with you on the couch sobbing, hardly able to catch your breath. 

“What Happened, Y/N?” She asked, quietly, needing to know what the problem was, so she could hopefully fix it, hating to see her best friend in this condition.

“H-h-he’s g-g-going on a-a-a da-a-a-te.” You stuttered out between your sobs. You didn’t say a name, but you didn’t have too. The thing was that your feelings towards Sero was evident to everyone but him, and apparently Kaminari who kept trying to set him up with girls, and his feelings for you were evident to everyone but you. 

“He told you that?” She said to you, all you could do was nod. 

“And you’re letting him?” She asked, making you look at her. What did she mean letting him? You didn’t have a choice in the matter of whether or not he goes out on a date. You weren’t his girlfriend, just someone that was hopelessly, desperately in love with him, who happened to be his roommate. It was like she could read your mind, and maybe she could, you had been friends since you were kids, friends throughout highschool, even though you weren’t at UA or in a hero course. She’s the reason that you were able to score this roommate when you were desperate to get out of your family home. She’s the reason you were able to meet Hanta at all. 

“N/N, you have two options here, and I am going to tell you what they are, honestly, with no sugar-coating bullshit. You can let him go out on this date, ignore your feelings forever, be insanely upset as you watch him maybe fall in love with this nameless, faceless girl, or maybe he won’t, but then there will be another one after her, and another, until he finds “the one,” and you can wallow in all the “what if?” scenarios you can come up with about your feelings towards him and how it might’ve played out if you had just said something, or you can open your eyes, and see that you are “the one” for him, and say something to him. Tell him how you feel. Then nothing has to change. He will either let you down gently because he’s not an asshole like our neighborhood #1 hero that is also an angry pomeranian, he’s SERO for crying out loud. He’s either gonna let you down gently, or he’s gonna return your feelings, but it’s a chance that you’re gonna have to take because I know you. You’ll regret it, in the long run, if you never tell him.” She took a deep breath after that monologue. Your tears continuously dried up as the words poured out of her mouth, and you felt silly. Why were you so scared to begin with? Was it rejection? She was right. Sero wouldn’t be harsh if he didn’t return your feelings. Was it the fear of change? What would really change if you confessed? You’d still be friends, if he didn’t feel the same, and you’d still be roommates, even if it’d be awkward for awhile. 

That’s when you decided. You were going to tell him how you felt. You were going to take a leap of faith and just go for it. Mina was all about living carefree and with no regrets, and she was right, when you thought about it. You would definitely regret not telling him.

You nodded at her and gave her a small smile.

“I’ll do it.” 

She sat down beside you.

“What’s the plan then?” She asked with a mischievous smirk on her face, and seeing that, you couldn’t help but match it with one of your own. Sero was certainly the love of your life, but Mina was undoubtedly your soulmate, two halves of the same hole.

“So here’s the plan…” You told her what your plan was, and she nodded along with you, agreeing with your plan, piping up when she thought something needed tweaking, and you two had a solid, doable plan almost an hour later. She left you to your own devices because she was on hero duty tonight, and she needed some semblance of rest to be able to protect the citizens at full potential.

You got dressed for the occasion and watched the clock until you knew he was almost due to clock out, and you called him.

Ring. Ring.

“Princesa. Are you okay? You never call me when I’m at work unless something is wrong.” He rushed out, answering after only two rings. Your heart soared when he called you a princess in spanish, and then it twisted in horror thinking that if you didn’t do this, that he’d call someone else that, or at the least, cease calling you that because what girl wants their boyfriend calling another girl “princess?” 

“... I’m actually not okay, Hanta. I know you have a date, but can you come home before you go? I really need you.” You inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to keep your breathing even from all the nerves in your body standing on edge.

“... sure, princesa. I can come home before then. I’ll be there in 20. I just have to turn in paperwork and stuff. Will you be okay till then?” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and breathed out a “yes” to give him confirmation that you’d be okay for twenty more minutes.

You hung up with him and stood up, started pacing back and forth while looking at the clock. You were actually gonna do this. This was a pivotal moment. After this, there was no going back, only forward. 

Pacing back and forth, time seemed to only drag on making those twenty minutes feel like an hour, until you heard hanta’s keys jingle in the slot, unlocking the door. 

“N/N? Where are you?” He said as he opened the door, not noticing you in the small living room. You looked at him, and your heart clenched, in the best way. He was so beautiful. He looked tired from a day of hero work. His hair was still wet from taking a shower at the hero office, like he always did, hating coming into the apartment smelly and sweaty. 

“I’m right here, Hanta.” You said making him snap his gaze to you.  He looked you up and down, probably checking to see if you were physically okay, and when he noticed that nothing was physically wrong with you, he gave you a curious look.

“You’re not hurt?” 

“I am. It’s just not a wound you can see.” you replied to him, trying to strain a smile, but not quite making it work. 

“I don’t -” He started but you shook your head.

“Do you know her name?” You asked, words tumbling out of your mouth without you really being able to think about them.

“Who?” Sero said, clearly not realizing you were talking about the girl he was supposed to go out with tonight.

“Do you know what she looks like? Is she prettier than me?” You asked, making his look grow even more confused.

“I -” He went to say something, but you continued on with your tirade, not being able to stop the words coming out of your mouth now.

“I sat here today, and I just thought, how has he not noticed? Has he, and just chose to ignore it, but you’re not that kind of person, you wouldn’t blatantly ignore someones’ feelings. You’re a hero, acknowledging people and their feelings is a part of that job, but then you told me you were going on a date today, and my world stopped. It literally stopped because I was okay with it being unnoticed as long as nothing changed, but you dating changes everything hanta because I can’t just stand by and watch the man that I am hopelessly in love with, who just so happens to be my roommate, go on a date with someone that’s not me. Not without telling him how I feel. I don’t want to live the rest of my life with unanswered questions and thoughts about what could happen.” You sighed. Taking a breath, looking at him as you did, seeing him with wide eyes and an open mouth. He opened and closed his mouth as if to say something, but you could tell he wasn’t sure what to say. 

“I love you, Hanta Sero. I love the way you care about people in your life and people you don’t even know. I love the way you try to make sure I am okay when you get home, even though you’re the one that is out there saving lives every single day. I love the way your eyes crinkle and you have a little dimple when you smile, and I mean really smile. I love the sound of your laugh. I love the way you smell when we cuddle on the couch while watching movies because I get cold so easy. I love the way you play with my hair when you think I’ve fallen asleep during the movie, when the truth is that I just pretend because I don’t want you to stop. I love how smart you are and how you continue to surpass everyone’s beliefs about you because you’re so great and no one ever sees that, always doubting you. I see that though. I see you, Hanta, and I love you just the way that you are.” You were so into your thoughts and feelings that you weren’t even aware of the huge smile that had made its way onto his face. You just kept talking.

“I know I’m not the greatest. I get upset easily, and I’m not the smartest. I’m not athletic, and I’m a decent cook, but nothing noteworthy, and there are probably so many people that would be better for you, who could love you better, take better care of you while you’re out there saving the world, but instead of dating someone that you don’t even know, that KAMINARI picked out, is it so far fetched that you never even consider dating me, when I was right here, all along? Was I not even a thought? No matter. I’m here. I’m pouring out my feelings, despite my intense fear of you rejecting me, and I’m asking you, pleading with you to pick me. Pick me, hanta. Choose me. LOVE ME. If you just do that, if you just choose me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you made the right decision, that I’m worthy of your love. That I -” You were cut off by the feel of lips slamming onto yours, words dying in your throat as the band that was stretching so tight, finally snapped. You had kissed guys before, but it had never felt like this, no one’s lips had ever felt like they were made just for yours, but his did. They fit together with yours perfectly, in sync, as the kiss went on and on, and you never wanted it to end, but it did. He slowly pulled his lips away and took a breath.

“Please. Stop talking. I wouldn’t want to choose anyone else. How have we both been hopelessly in love with the other and never noticed each other’s feelings?” He breathed out. His words made your stomach flutter with butterflies and instead of tears or sobbing, laughter, unadulterated laughter, flew out of your mouth, making him laugh along with you.

“I guess we’re both blind when it comes to feelings, huh?” You asked, smirking, and he nodded as he leaned in to kiss you again, and everything melted away, your brain flooding with serotonin.

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part IX

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

The next morning brought the day of the ritual itself, and Geralt found himself woefully unprepared for its arrival.

Jaskier was nervous. Geralt could tell by the on-again-off-again chatter, the way Jaskier would launch suddenly into a diatribe and then go suspiciously silent for the next twenty minutes. Their breakfast was stilted, and Geralt tried to make it quick, not wanting to linger in the tavern any longer than needed. The air within it felt thick with the years that had passed between them, and the words Geralt couldn’t bring himself to say.

He wanted to perform the ritual outside of the city, though they probably didn’t have to. Ida had said that the place needed to be of personal or magical significance, not both, but Geralt figured that going overboard couldn’t hurt. The area where they’d been attacked by Filavandrel was heavy with magic; Geralt could still remember the way his medallion had hummed against his chest in the great circle of stones. That was the place, he knew, where they would be most likely to find success.

If Jaskier even let him go through with it at all.

They walked the path as they had so many years ago, through the craggy valley of plenty to the base of the mountains. It was sunny, and the air tasted like summer had firmly arrived. The sky overhead was shockingly blue, an uncanny match to Jaskier’s eyes. The valley was rich with the scent of wildflowers, almost overpowering, and every patch of grass seemed to hold a shock of vibrant color.

It took them several hours to get to the spot, but Geralt knew instantly when they arrived, even without the gentle vibrations of his medallion. It looked exactly the same as before, as if even nature itself had refused to go to work against it. Jaskier spoke from behind him, leaning against one of the large stones. “This is it, right?” he asked, looking around. “I’m almost certain I remember you punching that faun just there.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “He had it coming.”

Jaskier grinned back at him, but then the smile dipped off of his face as he glanced around. “So, uh. How do we do this?”

Geralt shrugged off his pack, dropping it in the middle of the clearing. “It shouldn’t take much work,” he said, digging through it for the oathstone and the moonflax ribbons. Once he held each of the objects in his hands, he turned back to face Jaskier, and then stopped. Jaskier was looking at the objects with something like trepidation, and Geralt felt a swoop of anxiety in his gut. “It’s just a few words,” Geralt continued, hesitantly.

Jaskier wavered, shifting his weight back and forth on his heels. “Geralt, are you—are you sure about this? We still don’t know all that much about this ritual. What if it hurts you?”

It was a possibility. Ida had said that Jaskier wouldn’t be at risk, but he’d received no such assurances about his own safety. Geralt shrugged, and offered his hand to Jaskier, the pale oathstone resting in his palm. “It’s worth it,” he said simply.

Jaskier stared at him for another long moment, radiating hesitation. Finally, he stepped forward and took Geralt’s hand in his.

Letting out a barely audible sigh, Geralt pressed their palms more closely together, the oathstone warming to their touch. “This shouldn’t take long,” he said again, shaking out the ribbons so they lay flat. Gently, he draped them across their joined hands, the ends falling to brush the grass at their feet. This was what it would look like, he realized. It was like any old handfasting ceremony—all he had to do was say the words, and he and Jaskier would be bound together. The ribbons were soft against his skin, almost as soft as Jaskier’s sweaty palm in his. He paused, his free hand brushing across the fabric of the blue ribbon. All he had to do was wrap it gently around Jaskier’s exposed wrist, and then—

“Stop.”

Geralt paused, fingers twitching. He looked up from the ribbons to find Jaskier staring at them, his face tight and horrified. “What?” he asked, stomach dropping. Jaskier’s grip on his fingers would have been bruising to anyone but him.

“Geralt, we can’t… we can’t do this.” Jaskier stuttered, swallowing. His eyes finally lifted from the ribbons to find Geralt’s, and the pain and distress he saw there made his free hand itch for his sword.

“Why not?” he demanded, a little sharply. He was so close, and then he could live the rest of his long life with Jaskier at his side. Even if he wasn’t Geralt’s, it would be enough to have him live. He only had to finish the binding, and Geralt had half a mind to blurt out the words right then and see if they would stick. Jaskier didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve to be bound to someone like Geralt without asking for it, but Geralt could see the grey in Jaskier’s hair and the lines at the corners of his mouth as he frowned. This was his only chance, the only way he knew of to keep Jaskier from leaving him all too soon.

Jaskier winced at his tone, his free hand clenching at his side. “I—I wasn’t sure if you knew. But you mustn’t—Geralt, this isn’t just any spell. It’s a soul binding ritual.”

Geralt forced his breathing to remain regular, though his chest was tight with panic. “I know, Jaskier. My life force tied to yours, extending your life in the process. That’s the whole point.”

Jaskier bit his lip and took a deep breath. It shuddered a bit on the exhale. “Geralt,” he said, face scrunched up as if expecting a blow, “it’s a marriage ritual.”

Even though he’d been expecting it, Geralt couldn’t help the feeling of defeat—of grief—that swept through him. That was it then. Jaskier would not only refuse to complete the ritual and die, but he’d also probably never want to speak to Geralt again. He wouldn’t be there in the winters, singing by the fireside and telling Ciri stories and jokes to pass the time. He wouldn’t whisper terrible little things about other bards when he dragged Geralt along to those horrible competitions in Novigrad. He wouldn’t sit quietly on the other side of the fire and offer Geralt soft smiles in the evenings, as he wrote about their adventures. He would die, and Geralt would have to live on with a hole in his chest that would never heal. He’d thought it was painful, to not have Jaskier the way he desired, or to skirt the subject of losing him, but this. Just knowing that it was inevitable now, facing it head on, made his gut lurch sickeningly.

The soft fabric of the binding ribbon felt terribly fragile in his grip.

He was reaching out before he could stop himself, taking Jaskier’s shoulder with the hand not still holding the oathstone between them. He started talking without knowing what he was even going to say, only knowing that there was a small chance that he might be able to salvage this if he could just say the right words. “Please,” he said urgently. Jaskier looked taken aback by his sudden intensity, but he couldn’t stop. “Please, just—It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m sorry, I should have—I know, I should have told you, I’m sorry. But it doesn’t have to be that, it can mean whatever you want, or nothing. We can still—”

Jaskier interrupted him, eyes wide in shock. “You mean you knew?” He was so beautiful, Geralt thought despairingly; even now he wanted badly to reach his hand up and cup Jaskier’s jaw, to trace his thumb across the red blush spilling across his cheekbones. Jaskier gasped, surprise and confusion warring across his features. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t think it mattered.” Geralt stammered through the lie, swallowing. “How did you know?”

Jaskier’s brow furrowed as he answered, his eyes roving over Geralt’s face as if looking for answers there. “It’s—There’s a poem. A piece I studied years ago, when I was learning to translate Elder at Oxenfurt. Something Silvandrel said reminded me of it. So the stars may hear your oath, was I think how he phrased it. The translation isn’t exact, the word at the end can mean oath or promise, but also has... romantic connotations. Usually we translate it as ‘adoration.’ But I wasn’t sure, until I saw the ribbons. It’s, I mean,” and here he flushed, his nervous rambling breaking off for a moment as he floundered, palm shifting in Geralt’s. “It’s all quite familiar, isn’t it? We’re only missing the floral crowns.”

Geralt pushed the words past the lump forming in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should have told you, I just thought—” He stopped, at a loss for how to continue.

Jaskier brushed over the statement anyhow, looking away from Geralt and down at their still half-bound hands. He laughed, a brittle, bitter sound that set Geralt’s teeth on edge. “I’m just surprised that you knew,” he said, the shoulder under Geralt’s other hand shifting in a slight shrug. “I mean, I assumed that if you knew you would never…” He shook his head, looking back at Geralt with a tight expression. “Silly of me. I should have known it wouldn’t matter to you, after all. I know you would never honestly consider marrying me.”

They were standing so close, hands clasped tight together between them, barely a foot apart. Jaskier offered him a slight smile, as if trying to share a joke, but this close Geralt could see how twisted it was. Jaskier’s eyes were wet, and his expression was pinched, mouth tight as if he was in pain. And suddenly it was as if all of Geralt’s other concerns were smothered by the desperate imperative to wipe that look from Jaskier’s face. “Why not?” he asked again, defensive on Jaskier’s behalf, reckless in the face of the incomprehensible bereftness on the bard’s face.

Jaskier’s eyes widened. Geralt could hear how fast his heart was racing, and even if he couldn’t he would have been able to feel it under the hand that rested on Jaskier’s shoulder. “Well,” he stammered, clearly bewildered. “You wouldn’t—You’ve never, you’ve never wanted me. Like that. I know that, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Geralt took a half step closer, so that their joined hands were nearly pressed to his chest. This close, Jaskier had to look up at him, an ever so slight lift of his chin. Geralt took a breath, Jaskier’s fingers just brushing the thin fabric of his shirt. “I’ve always wanted you,” he said, forcing his voice to be steady. “I meant it. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“But not like that,” Jaskier argued, flustered, his free hand coming up to gesture between them. He looked near tears. “You don’t want me like that. You never have.”

“I’ll take you any way you’ll have me,” Geralt said honestly. A part of him was still crying out that this was a mistake, that he was showing his hand, that Jaskier would run when he knew the full extent of Geralt’s feelings. But Jaskier had to know that he cared. Geralt had let him carry on in doubt for so long, thinking he wasn’t loved, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Jaskier was still, staring at him. His mask was gone. Geralt could see surprise and confusion in his face, and fear too. But there was also something that made his own heart race in his chest, made a warm burst of hope crackle through Geralt’s ribcage, dangerous and heady. “You were going to marry me,” Jaskier said, voice cracking on the word marry.

“I still want to,” Geralt said softly, and summoned the courage to raise his hand up to cradle the side of Jaskier’s neck. His skin was warm, sunkissed and flushed prettily. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to.”

“What if I do want it to?” Jaskier demanded. His voice was hard, but his eyes were still damp.

“Whatever you want,” Geralt agreed. “Anything.”

Jaskier paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. Geralt’s eyes lowered to follow the motion compulsively, and when he glanced back up he found Jaskier looking down at his own lips. They were so close now, their still-bound hands held between their chests, sharing air. “Geralt,” Jaskier rasped, “I can’t do this unless we’re on the same page. If this isn’t going to mean… if it’s not going to be real, then I—”

“I’m in love with you,” Geralt said in a rush, and could have collapsed with the relief of it. He couldn’t help the small smile that stole across his face, even as his knees went weak at the admission. This could all go so badly, if he was reading this wrong. Even still, he felt lighter, as if speaking the words had allowed the feelings to seep past the barriers he’d built up around them.

Jaskier gasped, as if Geralt’s words had physically struck him. For a moment he just gaped, mouth opening and closing. Finally he put his free hand to his chest, pointing to himself emphatically. “With me?”

How was it possible to feel this fond of someone? It should have swallowed him whole, drowning him in a sea of affection. “For a while now, yes,” Geralt replied. “I understand if you don’t—”

Jaskier reached a hand out to grab the front of his shirt, and Geralt had time for one moment of crystalline shock before Jaskier’s mouth met his.

It was not hesitant, or gentle. Jaskier kissed him like he was trying to work himself so deep into Geralt’s mouth that he would never be able to pick all the pieces of him from his teeth. Geralt inhaled sharply at the warm touch of lips to his, and Jaskier wasted no time licking into his mouth. The hand in his shirt clenched tightly, keeping them pressed together with their bound hands awkwardly held between them.

Recovering from his shock, Geralt lifted his hand from Jaskier’s neck and finally held his cheek in his hand, like he’d been aching to the entire time. A slight tilt to Jaskier’s head changed the angle, and it was suddenly good, so good he could feel it in his toes. Jaskier made a wounded noise that Geralt eagerly swallowed. He flicked his tongue along the back of Jaskier’s teeth, and had to quickly take the bard’s weight as his knees buckled.

He lowered them to the grass carefully, separating to pant into the space between them. Jaskier laughed breathlessly as he half fell to his knees, a giddy sound that had Geralt grinning back at him. Geralt couldn’t help but lean forward and press another kiss to Jaskier’s lips, and then another, hot and sweet. Jaskier freed his fingers from where they’d been crushing Geralt’s shirt so that he could wrap his arm around the back of Geralt’s neck, pulling him in close. “You love me,” he laughed, and his eyes were so bright, Geralt could hardly breathe with it.

“I do,” he said, pressing yet another kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “You seem amenable to that.”

Jaskier made a noise that seemed caught halfway between a laugh and sob. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he confessed, voice thick. The words landed softly between them. “Since before the dragon hunt. I didn’t think you would ever—” He cut himself off, turning to bury his face in Geralt’s palm.

“Me either,” Geralt admitted, smoothing his thumb under Jaskier’s eye and catching the faint moisture there. “I mean, I didn’t think you would… want me. Like that.”

“I think I’ve been half in love with you since the beginning,” Jaskier said, chuckling wetly. “Gods, we’ve been a couple of fools, haven’t we? We wasted so much time.”

“I enjoyed it,” Geralt disagreed, a warm tingle spreading through him as Jaskier tightened his arm around his neck. “And we can still… If you still want to go through with it, we could have as much time as we want.”

Jaskier smiled, his heart beating wildly under Geralt’s palm. “So wanting to extend my lifespan wasn’t just about Ciri, then.”

Geralt huffed, ears tingling with embarrassment. “I told you that already,” he said. “I wasn’t lying about Ciri, but I didn’t start looking into the ritual because of her. I just…” And here he stopped, momentarily lost for words. Instead he pressed his lips to Jaskier’s again, before muttering, “I truly couldn’t bear the thought of living without you.”

Jaskier made a soft sound, a gentle oh of an exhale, and Geralt felt it against his lips. “Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier breathed, “you are quite the romantic.”

“Maybe,” he allowed, leaning in again. “Marry me,” he whispered, and what he meant was, Stay with me.

Jaskier surged forward to kiss him again, hard. Geralt had already lost count of how many kisses they’d exchanged in the last few minutes, but he was less and less eager to end them each time. Jaskier pulled away for just long enough to breathe a joyful, “Yes,” against Geralt’s lips. And after that they didn’t come up for air for a long, long time.

*

By the time they had gathered themselves again, the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon, the promise of night drawing near. The ribbons had become untangled from their hands in their eagerness, the oathstone cast carelessly aside. Sheepishly, they gathered up the materials for the ritual once again, kneeling before each other in the clearing.

It was amazing, Geralt thought, that he had ever managed to keep this a secret, had ever managed to restrain himself from reaching out and taking when Jaskier was before him. The low evening sun lit his hair in fiery shades of amber and gold, disheveled from where Geralt had run his hands through it. There was a dark red mark blooming on the pale skin of his throat, and Geralt wanted to fit his mouth over it again and see if he could match his teeth to the barely-there indents still visible. He had to stop himself from leaning forward again to catch Jaskier’s mouth when their eyes met; if they didn’t do this now they would be here all night.

It was surreal, knowing that this was how it would happen, that it finally was happening. Jaskier was smiling at him, the joy radiating from him echoing the feeling in Geralt’s chest. The earthy smell of the grass that they’d crushed under them filled the air, blanketing the sweet honey scent of the wildflowers. If they’d had time, if they’d been anything like other couples, they might have made crowns of those flowers to rest on each other’s heads. But Geralt didn’t want to wait, and he sensed Jaskier’s own impatience in the way he shifted forward, trousers stained green where his knees had been pressed into the dirt for too long.

It was time.

“Will you say it?” Geralt asked, breathless, anticipation bleeding into terror into longing. Jaskier’s eyebrows came together just slightly, and Geralt could see the question in the slight parting of his mouth, the forward twitch of his chin. So clear to him, after all these years, because this was Jaskier. Jaskier who he loved. “The poem,” he clarified.

Jaskier breathed in slightly, knelt before him in the grass. In the place where their lives had first been twined inexorably together, by choice rather than fate. Jaskier’s voice was as soft, but it rang through the clearing nonetheless, refracting off of the stones. “I will make my vows to thee,” he began, offering out his palm, “where ancient stone hears my voice.” Geralt pressed his own hand down to meet Jaskier’s, the smooth surface of the oathstone held safely in the cage of their fingers. “And the earth will know of my devotion.” The stone was warm against Geralt’s palm, and he didn’t know if it was from some magic or just the warmth of their joined hands. He didn’t think there was really a difference.

Reaching beside him with his free hand, he pulled the ribbon—blue, white, and gold braided carefully together—from his pocket. The white seemed to glow in the twilight, stark against their skin. “I will bind myself to thee in silver strands of moonlight,” Jaskier continued, and Geralt began to twist the ribbon around his own forearm, down and around their hands, back up around Jaskier’s wrist. Once done, he tied the ends together over the top, the knot resting in the hollow between their thumbs. “And the stars will know my adoration,” Jaskier breathed. Geralt looked up to find Jaskier watching him, eyes over bright. Geralt reached out, his hand curving around the back of Jaskier’s neck, thumb resting just under his jaw. He pulled them together, until Jaskier’s forehead rest against his own.

“In a court of our own making, I will make our halves whole,” Jaskier said, his breath ghosting against Geralt’s lips like a promise. “My hand to your hand, my heart to yours.”

“Me lámh le do lámh, me cáerme le do cáerme,” Geralt murmured, and then closed the distance one last time.

~

Last chapter before the epilogue! Truly amazing that this thing is almost done. I know for yall it’s been little over a week, but this has been a big project for me for the better part of a year, so it’s a little bittersweet to be wrapping it up! I’m very happy with how it all turned out, and I’m so grateful to everyone for your wonderful feedback. This chapter’s art is by @silvertonguelover​ and I couldn’t think of a better way to finish off the main story. Thank you!

tags: @whereismymonsterlover

[counting-eyerolls]

"un claduros sugeti pula" listen i died. i think you're very valid for this and not overreacting at all!

i think the basic problem that we as romanians share (generally speaking, of course, i'm aware there are individuals who are exceptions) is the fact that we have a genuine lack of basic human decency and mutual respect for a person we don't know. and i mean in any environment. from retail workers you ask for help who look at you like you asked them to hand-sew you the clothing article and comment passive aggressively while 'helping you' (speaking from experience) to the non-reactions that non-conventional artists experience, like in the 2019 ritual.

yk what they say romania is a beautiful country, too bad it's inhabited.

i was talking to my friend about this whole thing on the phone like an hour ago and while she isn't into ghost or rock/metal she has unfortunately been forced to hear and watch a shitton of ghost stuff because of my obsession. and when i told her hey did you know they apparently performed in bucharest too, she was like no shit what? ("ba esti prost?" to quote) and even she could tell how shitty it must have been for everyone on stage when the crowd had that attitude.

what bugs me more is that a lot of romanians i've met who like rock and attend concerts like that metallica one in 2019 consider themselves much better than everyone else (the whole "ba eu sunt roacher nu ascult prostii") and then you have these people in front of you who are putting on an amazing show and you just act like you're too good for it. but you don't even bother to appreciate and/or acknowledge the sheer amount of work that they put into those shows, the skill and talent of tobias and everyone underneath those masks. like come on you don't need to know who is under the mask to see how nice they play. like i didn't know who per was or that he was behind the mask but it took i think 2 videos for me to have such deep respect and appreciation for the way he plays -- and that goes for literally everybody on that stage.

anyway oops i rambled.

the attitude is a big problem. buying a ticket doesn't make you entitled to anything at all other than the basic decency an artist can offer while on stage. if that's not your cup of tea you can just not attend as op said but also: you are allowed to not enjoy a specific piece of art without trashing the artist or being rude about it. lemme give you an example: a few nights ago i went to hozier. i of course was so excited and all that and i was there quite early because i wanted to see the opening act too. i had no idea who the last dinner party was, i hadn't even listened to their songs. and then they came out on stage and did their set and i was blown away. but as they got off the stage and we waited for hozier i couldn't help but think back to how the venue was just then filling up, how they played to an almost empty concert hall, how people didn't pay attention during their set or used it to go get drinks or food or merch or go smoke. and these girls played so well but does it matter? does it matter when you won't even give them the chance to show you what they can do? when they don't even have to fight to catch your attention because you didn't even deign to give it to them from the beginning. while this wasnt in romania, this is something that happens almost always in romania and i've seen it every time i attended any kind of event or concert.

it's embarassing and sad to see how romanian people act and furthermore it makes me feel bad for all the artists who want to try and include more countries in their tours only to end up with situations like these. and all i can say is that i'm sorry for the artists who have to experience this (whether music or any kind of other art).

regrettably i'm thinking about the 2019 bucharest ritual again

So the one and only time (so far) that Ghost has been in Romania, it was in 2019 where they opened for Metallica at the National Arena. And it was... rough

(disclaimer i wasn't there but i consumed every single recording i could find online)

Firstly, they put them on during the middle of the day, which is already just a piss take-- but like fine, whatever, not the biggest possible issue

But then, the stage they were on was... weirdly big, but not in any way that was useful-- it was really long but really narrow. And I don't know if that's just the usual shape of the stage or if the planners suck at their jobs, because the band was playing in front of this sort of screen and you could see Metallica's set pieces peeking out from behind it-- so I got a sneaking suspicion they divided the stage in half and squeezed Ghost in the front

Also that screen was so tall that their setup looked laughably tiny. Idk

The stage also had this weird semicircle-shaped catwalk in the front? Which was pretty cool the couple times Papa got down there, but it also meant no classic Square Hammer intro-- no lean, no nothing, the guitarists just kinda huddled into a corner near the front.

ALL OF THIS WOULD BE ONE THING. Because hey, it was an arena show, maybe those don't go so in depth with the details

But the audience. The fucking audience... They're the reason I can no longer honestly complain about so few artists coming to this country, because honestly? Can't blame them!

The arena was half empty. It looked like one of those local shows where they put on your cousin's garage band and people only really show up because it's free to enter and the beer's cheap. EVEN THERE, I've seen more enthusiasm from the crowd

I understand most people were there for Metallica, but then why come see Ghost as well, if you're not gonna engage at all? Tobias was up there performing his heart out, talking to the audience, trying to get their attention-- nothing. The most enthusiasm I saw was during Year Zero (which is funny considering the state of this country ifykyk), and the people in the pit were the most responsive, but even then, disappointing

And I know it can't just be the band's fault for not engaging the crowd, because they get a completely different response in other countries, where people follow basic show etiquette and don't act like wet blankets

Seriously, why even pay to see a band you're not interested in. And if they were interested, that's a hell of a way to show it; but knowing the ro scene I'm tempted to believe most of them were just elitist weirdos who hadn't even heard of Ghost and generally have no respect for artists

anyway yeah this is my roman empire and it keeps me up at night

[scripts4dreamers]

And Stuff

AN: When you decided on a life of academia, you’d never expected to meet someone like Spencer Reid 

Characters: Spencer Reid Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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

You hated this stupid paper, you really really did. You stared blankly at your screen, reading and rereading the same two paragraphs in the vain hope that something would stick, but it was all gibberish.

“Hey, there’s my favorite PhD student,” a familiar voice called, collapsing into the seat beside you, “coffee?”

“Please,” you sighed gratefully, wrapping your hands around the disposable cup and taking a deep sip. It was perfect, just warm enough to shock some life back into you, “I owe you one, Prof. Reid.”

Spencer wrinkled his nose distastefully, and you laughed.

“I told you I hate that,” he said.

“And we both know that’s a lie,” you teased back, “you love being called Professor.”

“By my students,” he admitted, “not by you. How’s the thesis outline coming along?”

You sighed, “it’s not.”

“Can I take a look?” Spencer asked, reaching out towards you.

“Noooooo way,” you said, closing your laptop quickly, “not until it’s done.”

“But, Y/N-“

“No, Spence! It’s terrible.”

Spencer stuck his tongue out at you but didn’t press the issue as he pulled a stack of unmarked essays out of his satchel. You and Spencer had met a few years ago, when you’d both started a BA in philosophy. It was your third undergraduate degree, but like Spencer’s hundredth, and you’d bonded over your love of academia almost instantly. By now, meeting in one of the common areas to study and work together was almost a ritual, twice a week at least, every week of the semester. You loved it, you relied on it really. Without Spencer you were sure you’d have lost your mind years ago.

Spencer couldn’t always stay long, after all he was still a hot shot FBI agent, but even just the little bit of time you did have together was like a breath of fresh air. You both looked forward to the chance to talk about something other than your jobs for once.

“I’m sure it’s not, Y/N/N,” Spencer assured.

“Mhhm,” you said unconvincingly, “what about you? Did you get your epistemology paper in on time?”

“Oh yeah. I’m not sure anything I wrote technically qualifies as an argument, but it’s done.” Spencer replied, his eyes tracing the papers in front of him at lightning speed and marking as he went

You could see the signs of exhaustion on his face and your stomach pinched with concern. Spencer was a genius, you knew that better than anyone, but even he wasn’t immune to the stresses of university life. He was always burning the candle at both ends, taking on more than any reasonable person could ever hope to accomplish, and that was before he started teaching an intro to criminology class. It worried you.

“Spence?”

He looked up, his eyes still glassy and faraway, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Mmhmm?”

You frowned, “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

Spencer nodded, “Did you know that some studies have shown that an adult man can actually survive on as little as two hours of sleep a night without showing outwards signs of exhaustion?” He rambled, gesturing at nothing with his hands, “Sleep deprivation will, of course, affect your mental capabilities over time, but the amount of time that process actually takes is fairly individual. In my case-“ he looked over, noticed you raising your eyebrows at him, and laughed, obviously realising just how tired he was. “Yeah I’m a little tired,” he admitted, “it’s just been a long week that’s all. I was up for a few days for a case,,” he nudged your shoulder with his, “you know if you took me up on my offer I’d probably have more time to sleep.”

“Me? Join the FBI?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “No way. I’ve never even held a gun.”

“Neither had I before I joined.”

“Yeah but you’re-“ you gestured in his general direction, “you know.”

“I’m what?”

“You know,” you huffed, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment, “strong. And brave. And stuff.”

Spencer laughed but he looked pleased with himself nonetheless, “you think I’m strong and brave?”

“And stuff,” you clarified, “I’m an academic. I’m perfectly happy in a dark room with my dusty books and manuscripts, thank you very much.”

Spencer nodded, stealing a sip of your coffee and grimacing at the taste, “is there any sugar in this at all?”

“You tell me,” You answered, “you bought it.”

“Well there’s obviously not enough, you can still taste the actual coffee,” he said, just as his phone started to beep frantically.

Spencer took it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. Your heart sunk a little but, when Spencer looked up at you apologetically, you shot him a small smile.

“Duty calls,” you said simply.

Spencer nodded, packing his stack of papers back into his satchel, “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. I’ll see you back here on Friday?”

“Sure,” you agreed, “if you’re back by then.”

“And you’ll send me your thesis outline when you’re finished with it?”

“Of course.”

Spencer wrapped one arm around your shoulder, giving you a quick hug, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Enjoy your day.”

“Good luck, Professor,” you smiled, waving him off, “and thanks for the coffee!”

He waved back at you, half jogging and already on the phone as he vanished into the incoming crowds. You watched him go, sighing sadly as you turned back to your unfinished outline.

“Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Spencer’s written like three of these, let’s go.” You muttered, “The psychological implications of linguistic progression, think.”

You threw yourself back into your research, losing yourself in the methodical nature of your work. The coffee next to you got cold.

————————

Spencer was flushed by the time he made it into the office, his cheeks hurting with the effort of suppressing his smile. Time with you always did that to him, no matter how drained he was when he first arrived.

You were like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise very gloomy day, and ten minutes with you was better for his mental health than a whole weekend’s worth of sleep. You were sweet, and funny, and you let him ramble about whatever he wanted to and even pretended to listen. Meeting you for coffee every week had become more than an act of friendship, it was an act of self care, a thin thread holding what was left of his sanity together.

His phone chimed and he smiled down at the message, a picture of you sipping your coffee and giving the cameras a big thumbs up:

Go kick some bad guy ass, Wise Guy!

He started typing up a reply but, before he could, someone interrupted.

“Good date, Pretty Boy?” Morgan greeted.

“It’s not a date, Morgan, you know that,” Spencer replied, fondly, “it’s just coffee with a friend.”

“Oh yeah it’s totally not a date, just a biweekly coffee hangout with someone you’ve been in love with since forever.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he smiled.

“But it did go well, then?” He retorted with a knowing smile.

Spencer smiled and nodded, “She thinks I’m strong and brave and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“And stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Prentiss interjected.

Spencer froze, “I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Does she know you’re not dating?” Prentiss asked.

“What? Yes of course! Or-maybe? I don’t know we haven’t exactly talked about it.” Spencer replied.

“No, she doesn’t know,” Morgan clarified.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue but, before he could, Garcia cut in.

“Okay my little geniuses, it’s a weird one today. Let’s get briefed,” Garcia called.

“When do we get to meet her?” Prentiss whispered as they took their seats.

“Never,” Spencer replied.

Emily pouted, “you’re no fun.”

Spencer smiled but, as the briefing went on and the picture of their newest case got clearer and clearer, so did something else; they couldn’t do this alone. They needed help, very very specific help. His heart sunk. As they headed to the jet, Spencer pulled out his phone, wishing to God he didn’t have to.

“Hey, Y/N, remember how you said you owed me one?”

—————————-

This had to be some sort of nightmare, you thought to yourself as you stepped off the jet. When Spencer had first called you, you’d laughed, told him to stop joking around and tell you what he actually wanted but, as it turned out, he was serious. They had a case, he’d said, one that required a certain set of expertise, one that only you had. And you couldn’t really say no could you? Not to Spencer.

And now you’d solved it. It was over. Your hands were shaking and you’d never been this tired in your life, but it was over. You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped.

“Hey, it’s alright, kid,” Derek Morgan assured you, “you’re okay.”

You nodded, even though it wasn’t a question and gave him a small smile.

“I know.”

Derek nodded, his dark eyes boring into you in that way only members of the BAU could, like they were looking into you and not at you, so you tried to look brave.

“You did good work on this case,” Derek said, walking back to the building with you, “without you I’m not sure we would’ve caught the guy.”

You shook your head, “Spen-Reid would have figured it out eventually.”

Derek pressed his lips together, “Probably, but even he said it would’ve taken him days to reconstruct the language from scratch, even without adding the psychology behind it. In that time who knows how many people our UnSub would have been able to get.”

You looked over your shoulder to where Spencer was standing at the base of the jet’s stairs, looking everywhere but at you. He’d been acting distant for a while now, ever since Hotch had decided to strap you into a bulletproof vest and send you in to talk a maniac off a ledge. The UnSub had been having some sort of psychotic break, he’d forgotten how to speak English and communicated exclusively in a language he’d created himself, a combination of several that pointed to details about his personal life. It was fascinating, in the worst way possible, a real life application of the theory you’d been working on for years. It would make your thesis a piece of cake to finish.

The thought made you feel nauseous.

“Is he-“ you asked Derek, pressing your lips together nervously, “is he angry at me or something?”

He frowned, “Reid? No. He’s crazy about you, he looks forward to those coffee dates with you every week for days.”

You flushed, “They're not dates, Derek.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he replied, sarcastically, “slip of the tongue.” He ruffled your hair fondly, “Go on, talk to him, I’ll call you a cab when you’re done.”

You nodded and hung back, letting Derek’s hulking form vanish into the FBI building as you made your way slowly back toward the jet. Spencer was staring up at the moon, looking pensive and beautiful and painfully sad.

“Hey, there’s my favorite profiler,” you greeted gently, “you alright?”

“Hey,” he replied, still looking up at the moon, “why didn’t you go inside with everyone else?”

“I was waiting for you,” you explained, “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“If I’m okay?” He laughed incredulously, meeting your eye, “Y/N, I’m out here because I’m trying to figure out what I could possibly say to make up for what I just put you through.” He explained, “This...this stuff-it’s my world, not yours. I should never have brought you into it.”

“Spencer you needed me, your team needed an expert and, no offense, but your social circle isn’t big enough to have two experts in linguistic psychology.” You teased gently.

Spencer chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

You stepped forward, resting a hand gently on his bicep, “You made the right decision, Spence. I’m glad you called, I’m-“ you paused, “I’m glad you let me help you.”

Spencer snorted, “And it nearly got you killed.”

“It didn’t nearly get me killed-“

“Yes. It did,” he insisted, “the UnSub was psychotic, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have killed you on sight. Hotch should never have let you-I should never have let you go in there.”

“But I wanted to and I’m fine. The case is over, Spence, we’re in the clear.” You assured him, “Things can go back to normal now.”

“No, they can’t!” Spencer practically shouted, turning to face you, his eyes red and puffy. You instinctively stepped back and Spencer pressed his lips together, looking guilty, “Y/N, I-knowing you were in danger and that there was nothing I could do about it...it killed me. You were never meant to know about any of this, you were meant to be safe! I was meant to keep you safe!” He explained, running a hand through his hair, “You were the one thing in my life that this stuff couldn’t touch and now-“ he breathed, “now everytime you look at me you’re gonna think about this, and him, and everything I put you through and-“ he met your eye, “and things will be weird and you’ll stop wanting to talk to me. Things won’t be the same, Y/N.”

You flushed and stepped forward, “You're worried that I’m not gonna talk to you anymore?” You asked. Spencer didn’t answer, but the way he avoided your eye and worked his jaw seemed like answer enough, “Spence,” you smiled, “you’re like...my favorite person in the world. This stuff,” you gestured around, “what you do, it doesn’t change that. In fact I think it’s kind of incredible. You guys tracked down a serial killer based on nothing but some muddled letters, who does that?” You laughed.

Spencer didn’t respond, but the edges of his lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. You watched him for a moment, the way he held his head, the way his eyes darted up to yours. He was just as beautiful as he’d always been, but there was something more now. He was vulnerable, you realized, really vulnerable for the first time since you’d known him. No matter what he said, Spencer was reaching out to you.

“Your world is messed up, Spencer,” you continued, stepping forward and taking his hand, “but you aren’t. We aren’t, and I’m glad I got to be there when you needed me. We’re good, okay?”

“Do you promise?” He asked, his voice small.

You squeezed his hand, “I promise.”

Spencer nodded, squeezing back, and let you slowly pull him back towards the FBI building.

“Besides,” you continued, “you still owe me a look at my thesis.”

Spencer snorted, “That’ll literally take me 3 seconds.”

“Show off.”

“What? It’s true.” He laughed.

You suddenly realized that Spencer was still holding your hand and, when he saw you looking and tried to pull away, you held on tighter. Spencer smiled nervously, and you felt a rush of something warm and promising flow through you.

“Hey, Y/N?” He started nervously.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Are we dating?” He asked.

“After today? We’d better be. I’m expecting at least a dinner after almost getting shot for you.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“That’s so not funny,” Spencer replied, but he was smiling when he said it.

“It’s a little bit funny.”

“Fine,” Spencer agreed, stopping in his tracks and pulling you towards him, “it’s a little bit funny.”

And that’s when he pulled you in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing his lips to yours. Just like that, the weariness of the day melted away, disappearing into a kiss that tasted like burnt coffee and sugar and the best champagne you’d ever had. Spencer was strong and sure. He kissed you like it was the only chance he’d ever get, like he wanted to burn the memory of you into that brilliant mind of his forever. When you broke apart it felt like the earth had shifted beneath you and you stared at one another, breathless and smiling like teenagers caught making out beneath the bleachers.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, “yeah you definitely owe me dinner.”

“Woohoo!” Morgan cheered.

“Ooooo, Y/N and Reid sitting in a tree,” Prentiss sang, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Go get ‘em, Lover Boy,” Garcia joined in.

Spencer laughed, letting his head fall down onto your shoulder, humming when you threaded your finger through his hair.

“Can we-um-can we maybe continue this at a later date?” Spencer asked, “Like maybe at dinner? Or,” he checked his watch, “breakfast, maybe?”

You looked back at Spencer’s team and felt, with a sudden rush of clarity, that you were looking at a group of people who would soon be staples of your life.

“Let’s go get coffee with the others,” you answered, “and then after that,” you tilted his head up and kissed him softly, “you can take me to breakfast.”

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