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thebearer · 6 months ago

Note

Annnnnnd how would Lip act in the situation of the devastation fic

i’ve had to think about this tbh. bc he kinda already had his own version with the unexpected pregnancy news of freddy.

but i started thinking in terms of lip’s reader leaving and taking the kids with her, and genuinely, i can’t think of a situation where that would happen and she would come back. like they’d be done.

now, with that being said, i could see lip and you getting into a fight- a huuuuugggeee fight. bigher than the one when you found out you were pregnant with amelia. this is based off of lip with best friend!reader who’s a elementary school teacher. she does pretty well, has a salary and insurance so wayyyy better than anything lip grew up with, but they’re not rich by any means. truly comfortable. lip’s working at the auto shop, still doing odd ball jobs but more full time, got promoted to a shift supervisor and got a raise. you both share a bank account together bc it makes it easier.

debby (bc it’s always debby and i’m a debby hater sorry) does something stupid. stupid enough to need bail money, stupid enough that she might get franny taken away or placed into custody elsewhere. debby calls lip, wailing and frantic for money, and lip, of course, rushes to give in.

comes to you all frantic and manic. “hey, uh, i-i need to move some money alright?”

“move some money? why?” you frown. “lip, are you- is everything alright?”

“debby got arrested.” lip mumbles. he’s known you for a while, a long while, he knows your disdain when it comes to debby and her carelessness. more so, his incessant need to always pull her out of the hole she dug herself in. “she needs money for bail.”

“woah, woah, hold on.” you stop him. “you’re- you’re not- lip, absolutely not.”

“what?” lip snaps. “absolutely not? what-“

“-lip.” you glare at him lightly. “no, we-we don’t have that kind of money right now. jude starts daycare next month, and the daycare fees are going to double-“

“-yeah because you insist on puttin’ them in that fancy ass one by your school.” lip scoffs. “couldn’t leave them with mrs. mcgee. too fuckin’ good for that.”

“yeah, i am too good to leave my babies with a lady who chain smokes and watches the price is right all day.” you glare. “i want my babies to go somewhere safe and- that’s not even the point right now. lip, no. you’re not doing it. we can’t afford it.”

“we can fucking afford it. don’t start this shit with me-“

“-lip, we might have the money for it, but that does not mean we can afford it. that’s our savings, our safety net-“

“-and this is my family. my sister.” lip gritted his teeth. “isn’t that what the safety nets for, huh? for shit like this? unexpected bad shit?”

“not for debby.” you snap, finality in your tone. “not for someone who continues to make bad decisions and not learn from them and then wants you to run and get her out of it every time. i’m sorry, lip. this time i’m not letting you do it.”

that escalates bc one, you told lip he couldn’t do something which just made him turn more stubborn, and two, he’s blinded with irrational rage.

“what about franny, huh? she’s your fuckin’ niece, you’re gonna just let her get put in the system-“

“-franny is more than welcome to stay here. i will gladly take her while debby’s figuring shit out, but you have kids you need to think of. two kid that are yours that you need to think of, lip!”

“don’t you fucking dare.” lip snarls. “don’t you use my kids against me.”

“i’m not using them against you! jesus, lip, you don’t get to just come in here and tell me what we’re doing with our money! that’s my money in there too, ok? i’m telling you right now, if you fuckin’ use my money on this, and not think about our kids, you might as well just not come home.”

lip is furious, leaves without another word, slamming the door hard behind him leaving you in the house with freddy and baby jude. you’re fuming, upset, hurt- he’s feeling the same. lip is furious, furious at you telling him what to do.

he ends up at ian’s house after coming dangerously close to going to the alibi. ian talks him down, tells him you’re right, which was not what lip wanted to hear.

“debby can wait. she’ll get out soon enough and she can figure it out.” ian rolls his eyes. “she shouldn’t have been such a fuckin’ moron.”

“what about franny then, huh? you’re gonna just let her go into the system? let cps get her until then?” lip spat furiously.

ian scoffs. “franny is with carl right now. he’s bringin’ her here tonight.”

lip burns with embarrassment, feeling petulant but still pissed. “hey, word of advice?” ian smirks. “quit bein’ a hard headed jack ass and go home and apologize to your wife before she comes to her senses and leaves your ass for good.”

and lip is still mad but it’s dwindling, a guilt replacing it instead. he just needed to calm down, to think straight. walking back to your house, he had the time to.

lip jammed his key in the door, the ridges not sliding the usual way, not clicking. so he tried again, turning the key with no luck- it didn’t budge. he pulled on the knob, twisting again and again but nothing. “stupid fuckin’ piece of shit door.” lip grumbles, knocking on the door.

he waits, huffing, knocking louder. when there was still no response, lip goes to pull out his phone, only then does he see the pink envelope with his name on it on the welcome mat.

lip opens it up to find a note:

“phillip,

since you insist on doing whatever you want without asking me or considering our family, i decided i would do the same. you can go stay with debby since you chose her over me and my kids.

ps. don’t bother with the lock, i had them changed xoxo”

he found his car keys under the envelope. lip was furious, absolutely fucking furious and sick and upset and just overwhelmed with every emotion possible. you hadn’t even given him his lighter, so he took a walk to the corner store to buy a pack of spirits and a lighter. he called you on his way back, not surprised when you didn’t pick up.

“hey, you know, i know you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ funny but this shit isn’t funny, ok? i didn’t choose debby, i didn’t do shit, alright? so let me back in the house and let’s be adults about this.”

then another voicemail.

“alright, seriously? you’re not gonna let me in? you’re not gonna let me come say goodnight to freddy or jude? that’s fucked up. really fuckin’ fucked up.”

“you’re bitchin’ me out about not spending money, and-and you get that done? get the locks changed? how much did that cost huh? you can use money to be petty and childish but i don’t get a say in what i want to use it in?”

“ok this is ridiculous. let me in. talk to me. be a fuckin’ adult.”

“seriously? where the fuck am i supposed to sleep tonight? i know you’re fuckin’ seeing’ these- i can fuckin’ see you! just let me in!”

you don’t budge. don’t reply back, don’t answer the calls. he knows better than to bang on the door, wake jude or freddy up, and truthfully… he’s a little terrified at the moment. very scared that you’re truly done with him, that ian was right and you’d come to your senses.

so he slept in his car. in the driveway, thankful it was warm that night and he had a few spare shirts and things in the back. he waited until the next morning, when he knew you’d be up with the boys, to ring the doorbell.

his anger had vanished to fear and guilt, retreating back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, all sad eyes and gentle apologies that you deflected with anger still bubbling.

it definitely took him a while to make it up, a very long while before you actually gave him his new key. he had to make it up to you, work on his communication and his sharing especially with you.

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

Text

Solace

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: angsty AF but happy end don't worry

Request: No, but they're open! I love seeing your ideas so please send them! I promise I don't bite... most the time ;)

Summary: you and Max get to grow together. Neither of your dads being the best parenting model. When Max sees what your dad has don’t to you, he knows something has to be done.

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, depictions of most forms of abuse, descriptions of injuries

Notes: written in second person. I’ve noticed a theme with my writing… we’re just going to ignore it and I will continue to heal my trauma this way :)

Masterlist

Everyone expected great things from you. Expectations you wanted so badly to meet. Yet you always felt like you were falling short.

Your father is a Redbull mechanic. A good one at that. He's incredibly smart and respected within the paddock. One of Max's top engineers.

Your mother had left during your childhood. This means you got to spend your time traveling everywhere with your father. Him even being your teacher until you started online school and graduated.

Christian offered you a job that involved being on the pitwall. One you took happily. It meant you didn't have to spend the race in the garage with your dad.

From the outside, you looked happy. But you weren't up to standard with what your father wanted. You weren't perfect.

Behind closed doors, things were much different. You were blamed for your mothers disappearance. Blamed for your fathers woes. Used as a physical and verbal punching bag to help him feel better.

All the while, you convinced yourself it was for his benefit. That you deserved this for not being what your father wanted. He provided for you all these years, why couldn't you do this for him.

When Max started at redbull, both of you were still young. Regardless, the friendship was meant to be. No matter how much wither of your fathers hated it.

It led to secret rendezvous and stolen moments of escape with each other. You understood him and he understood you.

Max failed to realize how you understood. His dad was open with his behaviors. Jos had yet to back down from a session of publicly shaming his child. Your dad didn't do anything close to that. So how on earth could you know exactly what he needed during those hard nights.

He'd asked Christian about it a few times. Why you were so shy and timid around adults. It was difficult to understand.

Christian had told him not to worry about it and to focus on his racing. He was watching out for you.

It was true. Christian had been your Guardian angel on multiple occasions. Even staying with his family over long breaks why home was too difficult. He made sure you were fed and had clothes that fit. Everything you lacked in your own house.

The one thing that stopped him from getting him away from you is that you never explicitly told him or showed any signs of it. He was working on assumptions and possible hints.

He'd tried to catch anything that would give him a leg up, but he'd yet to het anything.

Your relationship with Max grew over the years. The two of you melded. You knew how to tame the Mad Max that fought to escape, and he knew how to soothe your tears.

You found solice in each other. Stability in your friendship. A love you both were willing to fight for.

Which happened a lot.

Neither of you knew how to communicate properly. Resulting in hard arguments and yelling matches. One of you is always shutting down before any real reconciliation can happen.

Christian got to be a father to both of you in this way. Coaching you two on how to express your feelings healthily. He was routing for you two. Knowing both your fathers weren't the best, you and Max needed to learn and love with someone safe. He was glad to take you both under his wing.

Then you were able to flourish. You started smiling more. Your eyes lost the bags from underneath them.

Max started opening up more. Standing up to his father slowly became easier. His smile and silly attitude got to be more prominent.

You started showing affection to each other in public. Openly spending time with the other. Not caring what either of your fathers thought.

After all, you were both adults. Right?

You thought everything was going to be over when you moved in with Max. You were nervous about it, mainly because you were self-conscious about your body. Nevertheless, you knew it would be a good change.

It was a soft moment between you two. Your giggles as Max left chaft kisses all over your face made him smile.

He felt bad for looking. He knew you were struggling with insecurities, and he wanted to respect your privacy.

But as your shirt inches up your body, he catches sight of the dark marks along your hips and torso.

He immediately stopped everything. His breathe hitched in his throat.

You looked where his eyes had landed. The secret finally out. One part of you wanted to be relieved, but right now you were panicking. Your brain reeling with every possible outcome.

You did the first thing that came to mind. You apologized. You begged him not to tell anyone. Tried to convince him that it was your own fault. Your breath becoming more uneven with every word.

Max was taken off guard. He knew it had been bad, but he’d never seen it and you’d never shown him. His emotions were bubbling to the surface rapidly. But you didn’t need him to be angry with your father right now.

He removes his hands from your body to give you space. He didn’t want to scare you anymore then he already had. “Don’t apologize, none of that is your fault, okay.” It felt like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. “Can I hold you?”

You nodded your head yes. Eyes moving rapidly to every sound. Your senses hyper aware of everything happening.

He reached out for you slowly, making sure to stay within eye view. Something that helped him when he’d come to you. Slowly you made your way into his arms. Basking in the way he felt like safety.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, but when you’re ready I’m going to spend hours kissing all your bruises better.”

The next morning, Max took it slow. You both were needed at the track but he wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to give you time. You’d fallen asleep in his arms. Him soothing every tear that ran down your cheeks.

When you two arrived together, he made his way through the back entry with you in tow. Attempting to avoid cameras and your father. He needed to make sure you got somewhere safe first before he even attempted talking to his lead engineer.

He immediately went to Christian. His face when he saw you two approach made Max want to turn around.

“I can see on your face that you want to punch someone.” Christian sighs in exasperation.

Max looks between his team principal and you. Words now refusing to form in his mouth. How was he supposed to explain this? “Can Y/N stay with you while I run around doing things.”

Christian hesitates, confusion evident. “Only if you tell me what’s going on.” He could see you were in pain. You looked like you’d been crying.

Max leaned into whisper. Worried about cameras and the nearing possibility of your father spotting you two. “It’s worse then we thought.”

Christian rubbed his temples. Motioning for Max and you to follow him into his office. The door closing the a soft click behind them. Neither sat down, the anxiety too much for either of them.

Christian was trying to get a read off of you. You, however, had yet to even look at him. Your body language had reverted back to when you were small. When he let you pretend to work on the cars. It hurt him.

He was about to say something when a knock sounded at the door. A rough knock. A familiar knock. You flinched away from the door. Your survival instincts kicking in.

Christian motioned for you two to sit down. Max gently gripping your wrist to get you to follow him. You flicked unintentionally but he just looked at you knowingly. You needed to move and he was just trying to help.

You sit down across from Christian. Max’s leg was bouncing up and down so fast you thought he might put a hole in the floor.

“Come in.”

You don’t turn around when the door closes. You can hear his breathing. Aware of his every move without even seeing him. Fighting every urge to run away.

“Oh- I was looking for Y/N. We need to go over some data.” He picked up on your fear. You knew it as he walked directly behind you. His hand gripping your shoulder.

You flinched and turned away from his hand. The tension in the room was to thick for you to breath. Max was already out of his chair and ready to connect his fist with anything.

Christian put his hands in between the two men. Aware of the still open door and people peaking inside.

You were trying to cower away from the aggression. Away from the onlookers. Into the safety of Max.

“I think Y/N was busy going over some things with Max, but I’d be happy to look at it.” Christian gave his best attempt at a neutral smile.

Your father was growing angrier. It’s the first time he’d openly tried anything. The grip he had on your shoulder already bruising.

“Busy doing what? Trying to ruin her future even more?”

Max saw red. He was already angry, but now he’d crossed a line. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. However, the feeling of his fist connecting with the jaw of your fathers was to satisfying for him to care.

Your father reeled backwards. His hands clutching his face.

You jump from the chair. Finding refuge behind Max's body.

Max was ready to go for another swing. Before he could lunge, Christian grabbed his shoulder.

"Why don't you Teo cool off in Max's driver room. I'll come find you later."

Max didn't move. His chest heaving. The two men willing eachother to make a move.

You take Max's wrist. Gently trying to lead him through the door.

You, however, didn't get far. Your father knew something was wrong the second he saw you come into the garage. He’d been around Max long enough to know that he’s a protector. He knew that if you wanted, you could ruin his entire life.

So, he lunged for you. Grabbed hold of your hair and pulled. You were in his grip again before Max could even register what was happening.

“Max, go get security.”

“But-“

“Your going to be faster then me.”

Reluctant, Max sprints out of the garage. Making his way swiftly to the nearest security checkpoint. He was grateful it was only Thursday. The amount of fans in the paddock significantly less and he didn’t have to drive with his adrenaline already so high.

You were silently pleading that Christian is able to talk some sense into your father. His previously free hand now covering your mouth.

You’d been here before. Breath. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. The mantra you’re mind recited through your entire childhood.

You could see Christian saying words but couldn’t hear them. He was trying to get closer but the hold on you became stronger with each step he took.

Your mind goes blank for a moment. Your body present but your mind dissociated. You can see the interactions take place, but you don’t feel present, or even real.

He is shaking you now. Your body jostling. Then the floor. More footsteps.

Max.

He’s leaning over you. Checking to see if your okay. You can see the panic in his eyes. A soft blue that you will your mind to latch onto.

You can hear him now. He’s whispering to you. “Your safe now” falling like a prayer from his lips.

Max cradles you in his arms. Holding you close as the noises of your father struggling slowly get quieter.

Christian also appeared at eye level. Crouching down beside the two of you. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t want to cause my trouble.”

“You never cause trouble.” A smile ghosts across Christian’s face for a moment. “Your dad will not be allowed back into the paddock. And you already know, but if you ever need a place you’re welcome at our home.”

Unfortunately, the events that transpired were within view of people and cameras. Christian deemed it a ‘family emergency’ and let you two go back to the hotel. Leaving the media Max needed to do for tomorrow and Checo to replace Max at the press conference.

Now you and Max lay facing each other on the bed. Neither has said very much. Only trying to process the events.

Then you remember something Max said last night. “Can you kiss it better please?”

Max smiled softly and inched himself closer to you. “Stop me if it becomes to much.” You nod at him.

He lifts up your Redbull polo uniform just above your waistline. Placing gently kisses to every place on your body that your father had marked in some way.

He pulled you into him after he finished. The two of you just staying their. Embracing the new possibility of peace you’d both wanted for so long.

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tiredsugarcube · 5 months ago

Text

Death Note ft. Saiki!Reader

Chapter 1: 2 Gods, 1 murderer

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The bustling streets of the city of Kanto region is crowded on a busy day when everyone is going to their day jobs and students going to school, though it seems like a typical day in everyday life, a person walking to school seems to stand out among the rest, much to their dismay.-

‘My name is (Y/N) Saiki and I have psychic superpowers, though i generally don't seem like it. I have every power imaginable from telepathy, psychokinesis, apport, shrinking, hydrokenises, hypnosis, etc, but the situation that's happening before me is one that hassles me big time.’

‘My father recently had a new job offer which isn’t uncommon because with even I can’t keep up with the different jobs he has every month. My old school had many weird people that always seemed to annoy me, I can’t even comprehend how loud they were when our homeroom teacher announced my indefinite transfer, but before we left, they insisted we kept contact, well as long as I don’t have to see them every day I don’t mind at all.’

‘Here I am walking to school in a new city, But I already know the location like the back of my hand, If I could I would have just teleported to one of the school’s bathrooms but I still have to change my shoes in the lockers by the entrance and wanted to get a little walk to get my mind out of things so I decided on walking to school.’

A typical high school, a large building with friendly faces and people last minute cramming for potential exams, the sound of steps in hard concrete on the way to the main facility is louder the more closer the psychic was to the school. No one knows who they were and that was an advantage in itself, no one that sees them as unconventional, no one to bother them, and a chance to finally reach the dream of living a normal life, even though the psychic’s powers are very far from normal, they try hard to make their lifestyle opposite to it.

It was calming, mundane to panicked thoughts everywhere around him yet moments like this, moments where all is well, the weather is moderate and no one was to bother the new student. Normal, that’s what it felt, and it was the best feeling ever!-

“!!.......”

Contradictions are inevitable but this is too far, right when the psychic was about to enter the school, they lock eyes with a certain Shinigami which seemed to be tailing behind a brown-haired student.

"Oh! You can see me kid..?"

'Good Grief, this is even worse than last time..' The psychic glared and looked away in annoyance, continuing to walk in the entrance, not letting any other animal, human or not, ruin their day.

However the question from the loud Shinigami did not go unnoticed by his student companion. Looking confused and frightened at the same time with the possibility that someone else other than him could see Ryuk. Yet, he was too clouded in his own thoughts too see who the Shinigami was talking about.

“I thought we already established that I could see you, was another student able to see you? Who?” The student whispered sharply, yet the Death God laughed loudly and replied.

“It seems you haven’t seen them at school recently, but I do know that they can do unpredictable things, This might be even better than I thought..” The Shinigami laughed excitedly.

“Unpredictable things? What do you mean? You better tell me later..” The student replied

“Depends on how many apples your willing to offer.”

Settled into my new class easily, got through the usual introductions and was able to catch up to their current lessons. It would be way easier though if it weren’t for the floating creature by me constantly striking a conversation, the creature should be glad I was bored.

“What do you want."

“Ah! So you can see me, I think you already know who I am! I think its cool how you can hold a conversation without opening your mouth, you really are interesting!”

“The Gods don’t favor me, you a Shinigami are living or dying proof of that. You haven’t answered my initial question yet.”

“(Y/N) Saiki Huh?, The name’s Ryuk. I’m a companion to one of the students here. I’m sure you already know who” The psychic nods and replied, reading Ryuk’s mind who was already saying the student’s name in his mind.

“Light Yagami..? His popularity meter is close to 100 and his thoughts are loud and fast that it outweighs every other student I’ve heard in the school, does having a high popularity number attract death Gods too.?”

“Don’t make it seem like I’m a fan! It’s that he has something that requires me to tail him around, and that something also makes normal humans able to see me, yet you are able to do it with no effort whatsoever and even talk with your mind, interesting! Do you have any other abilities?”

“Aren’t you supposed to know already?”

“I wanna see for myself, and as for that ‘something’ I’m referring to, I think it won’t be long until you find out” Ryuk laughs

“I’m not some form of performer that presents my unfortunate traits for attention. And whatever vague term you’re talking about; I don’t want to know unfortunately. Are you saying I have more relations to Light Yagami?”

“I think it’s bound to happen, your abilities can really bring out the unimaginable events!”

The psychic sighs once more and stops entertaining Ryuk and focusing more on the classes at hand, the said Shinigami has irritated the poor student to no end, even Light Yagami is wondering where he could be, getting used to the silence in the classroom without the Death God hovering over him during class hours.

'The bell has rung and the sun has started to set, I have to go home and do this school work. Good Grief, I thought being new would give me some upperhand in assignments since I'm a newcomer, but oh well , I'll just use cartography to get it done in a few seconds. But before I go home, I'll stop by a cafe first to get some desserts.'

The deserts displayed in the glass panel was to die for, from the soft 2 layered mini cakes topped with fresh looking strawberries and light powdered sugar on top to shiny chocolate glazed donuts, each confection was delectable to look let alone taste, but there was one dessert that shined among the rest, coffee jelly, the bitter yet bouncy mass with some soft whipped cream on top makes the dessert a top favorite for the certain psychic.

As the line to the cafe gets shorter and the psychic gets closer to the desserts, they can feel eyes boring to the back of their head, the soft and light atmosphere had dampened a bit, not to mention the certain person's thoughts are just as loud as the guy with a Death God pet.

Psychic turns around lightly and sees a man slightly taller than her, hair in disarray but who were they to judge? If eyes were the window to the heart, then this guy would have the key to everyone's with the intensity of eye contact. The psychic looks away immediately as its their turn in their line to buy desserts.

Not noticing the person behind them smiled lightly, a creeping feeling getting to them, even in just one glance there was something different about them, a normal student, too normal to the point they aren’t.

“Hmm.. I might keep them in mind in case..”

‘Please don’t.’

The psychic sighs and walk to their new home with their desserts on hand. ‘The people I meet weirder than I thought, but no matter, It's the end of the day. I won't be associated with them anymore..’.The psychic about to open the gate to their new household only to be cut off with another voice.

"Hello! Good evening, you're the new student announced today right? It seems we're neighbors now!" the brown-haired boy says kindly, using his charms but the psychic can tell he has other intentions, both ignoring the Ryuk flying in between them.

'You've got to be kidding me..'

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓲 𝓷𝓸𝓵𝓾𝓶𝓾𝓼 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲

"we who are about to die don't want to."

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ¹⁴¹⁸ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ

³ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ᶠᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉᵈ

ᴹᶜ ʸᵃᵖˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ

ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿ ᵂᵃᵗᵗᵖᵃᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵗˡᵉᵈ "ᴳᵒᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ᴺᵒʳᵐᵃˡᶜʸ", ⁱᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ.

ᵀᵃᵍ: fallenangel989899, yune1337

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dodorimo · 5 months ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Theater director!Raphael x Tav

He's supposed to be kinda creepy here, so yeah, this is a warning.

· · ────── ❊ ────── · ·

It is a disaster, a travesty.

He wonders. When Tacitus beheld the charred remains of his beloved Rome, did he feel a similar way?

Chorus girls look to each other for guidance while lead actors traipse over the stage, painfully off-key. He has seen high school productions with more verve than this one.

That he has to share a room with such insipid talent. It is truly heartbreaking.

With a weary sigh, his eyes survey the stage for the weak link, and that’s where he finds her. A girl in the back row, looking a little lost and scared out of her mind.

“Dear God, who does casting these days?” he laments to no one in particular, crossing his legs on the leather seat.

“You do, sir.”

Raphael turns to look at the man beside him, taking in his ill-fitting suit and old-fashioned glasses. Poor fellow. He has neither the knack nor the grip for the job. And the syndicate thought sending this boy would keep him on his toes?

“Oh, I didn’t audition this one or I’d remember her.” There’s a pause while he mulls over his thoughts. “Tell me, Jameson,” he says and ignores when the other man voices a correction. “Why is she here?”

“The girl has promise,” comes the curt response. “She was highly recommended.”

The vague answer does nothing to placate his quickly dampening mood. “Recommended by who? Her parents? Her elementary teacher, perhaps?”

A few cleaning women choose this moment to walk past their seats, prompting the man to lower his voice. “The Royal, sir.”

Raphael reclines back in his seat. There we have it.

What these newcomers fail to understand is that admission to a fancy college isn’t nearly enough accolades for his standards. He didn’t build his reputation by bowing down to paper-pushers and sycophants. In this theater, he dictates the rules. In this theater, he is king.

With a wave of his hand and a few scathing words, he orders the session to be dismissed, much to the relief of those present.

“May I suggest a break instead?”

“You did well today, Johnson. You may take the rest of the day off,” he replies, his tone final.

The man opens his mouth to protest, but turns to leave the room instead. The buzz of conversation slowly dwindles as cast and crew head backstage. They turn off the lights on their way out, leaving the theater in semi-penumbra.

Despite his predisposition for pomp and extravagance, Raphael always thought he worked better on a smaller stage.

“Not you.” He points to the girl tailgating the group. “I’d like to have a word.”

The girl stops in her tracks, a thousand emotions flashing across her face, before settling on fear.

While he waits for her to come around, he pulls two chairs and rearranges them facing each other in the middle of the stage, right below where the headlights shine brightest. The girl moves to sit on one of the chairs, shaking like a foal standing on its hind legs for the first time.

“Fear not. This will only take a moment,” he says, his smile deceptively warm—a skill honed after many years in the business.

She is a pretty little thing, this new choir girl. But then, again, most choir girls are. If her theater career falls to pieces, he can imagine a profession or two where she would excel at.

“What do you say we start from the beginning of act two?” he suggests, tone amicable as to not alarm her further.

The girl scrambles to flip through the pages of the script, her eyes skimming over the words in rapid succession.

This won’t do. An easier question, then.

“What is your name, dear?”

“River, sir. My name is River.”

“My man told me you came from the capital. Do you like it there?”

“I like it very much, yes.” The small talk seems to calm her enough to allow her to find the right page. What she finds there, however, does not please her in the slightest.

“Sir, this is a scene for two…” she trails off, eyes fearful.

“Make the best of it. Improvise. I can play the part of your would-be lover if you wish.” The abrasive approach isn’t to his liking. Unfortunately for this girl, he is short on patience.

If he had any hope that under the veneer of the ingénue might hide a true thespian spirit, it vanishes the moment she utters the first line.

He stands up and paces aimlessly around the stage. The girl stares at him, dumbfounded.

“You have been on the run. This man, this stranger, offers you solace and a roof above your head. He is charming and not too hard on the eyes. You feel indebted to him. You’re young, naive and you’ve never been properly courted.”

The deviation from the script wouldn’t pose an issue. He is the author, after all, and the play, a successful piece from his earlier career. “Updated” for modern audiences. The word alone is enough to make him grit his teeth. None of his plays needed “updating”. Younger audiences can take their grievances back to their food-stained couches. They had no respect for the classics.

His little summary provokes the intended reaction. He sees the pieces falling into place in her mind.

“Harlequin…” she tries again, this time with more passion. And is that the hint of tears he sees in her eyes? “I've never met anyone like you. If only I could repay you in kind.”

“Good, good… much better.” He returns to his seat.

“Say the word and my body will be yours.” She leans forward, exposing just enough of her cleavage for his eager eyes. It’s a bold move, but not unwelcome. His fingers twitch on his lap. This little dove may surprise him still.

Raphael recites the words that have become second nature to him. “Columbina. I’d rather you not return to your old ways. If you choose to lie with me, it must be of your own free will.” If his voice sounded more condescending than the play requires, it’s just an act of improvisation on his part.

He points to the script in her hand. It’s the cue for her musical number.

If the girl clearly struggled with the finer nuances of the text before, here she needs no assistance. Hers is a voice of singular beauty, the likes of which emerge once in a generation. He suddenly understood why James was so hellbent on bringing her here. It wasn’t just the charming Harlequin who was finding himself enthralled.

When it’s done, he takes off his glasses without saying a word and puts them carefully in his pocket.

“Oh dear, this is…” Beautiful, stupendous, awe-inspiring, his mind supplies. “A little crude, if you don’t mind my directness.”

The girl looks positively devastated, her lips quivering as if about to cry.

“But even the roughest of rocks can be polished into a beautiful piece of jewelry. Isn’t this what they say? Meet me at my office after tomorrow’s rehearsal. I expect you to be well acquainted with the text by then.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Call me Raphael.”

“Raphael…” Her voice rings like angelic bells to his ears. “Until tomorrow.”

#raphael fanfiction #raphael bg3 #raphael #my writing #I hope it's not TOO obvious where this is going #raphtav #raphael x tav

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inspector-constable · 1 year ago

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Aziraphale and the Gray Area: Why is he like that though

Good omens season 2 spoilers ahead

One of the things religious trauma gave me is a strong sense of right vs. wrong. The idea that there is always a right way to do things or a right course of action, and to not do things that way is simply wrong. This is more than just feeling afraid of being punished for doing the wrong thing; it feels like part of my identity. I think of myself as a good person, so I want to do good things and I want to do the right thing. If I choose to do the wrong thing, I lose myself and I lose what I value in myself. Sometimes it’s a good thing to feel like this, it’s what led me away from a religion that preached hate. Sometimes it’s not such a good thing, because I can hurt people by trying to do the right thing, or by trying to put my personal sense of morals onto other peoples’ situations. I have been picking through my beliefs for over a decade trying to confront and dismantle the harmful ones. It’s a painful process and it takes a long, long time.

How much longer must it take for a literal angel, a servant of God? We have the pleasure of seeing this process in Aziraphale through the ages, and it’s a lot slower than fans want it to be. I think people see Aziraphale in his moments in the gray area - lying, disobeying orders, being a bastard, enjoying human food, and loving and trusting a demon - and they think that he must be just fine with being in the middle: mostly right, a bit wrong, very human. But that characterization oversimplifies and misses Aziraphale’s true nature.

The sense of justice and good vs. evil is central to who Aziraphale is. He is not just another angel following commands; he is doing what he truly thinks is right no matter what the consequences may be. He ends up being quite a bit more good and loving than any of the other angels we meet, because he isn’t okay with doing what he knows is wrong. He knows it innately, but also he knows it because of what he was taught. When you’re taught that hate and violence and greed is wrong, but then you see hate and violence and greed being perpetuated by your teachers, you start to wonder where that dividing line really is.

That’s where the gray area comes in. When Aziraphale gives away his sword, he’s aware it’s not technically the right thing to do, but decides it is the actual right thing to do to protect Eve and Adam and their child. Same as when he lies to the angels about Job’s children, only this time instead of fudging the truth and avoiding the confrontation, he has to make a direct choice to do something that is technically wrong - lying - in order to avoid doing something he really, really knows is Wrong - murder. In this case, he’s not okay with lying despite it being wrong, he’s okay with lying because it is the right thing to do. It still causes a large amount of internal conflict when he thinks he will be sent to Hell for disobeying, but that fear of punishment didn’t stop him from doing what he thought was good.

For Aziraphale, the gray area is not about being a little bit evil, it’s about fudging the Rules and disobeying authority in order to remain completely good. Since Crowley is in the gray area with him, surely Crowley must be in the same boat of wanting to do the Right thing. Throughout thousands of years of history Aziraphale never stops arguing the side of Good, trying to convince Crowley to do the right thing. Sometimes he finds that Crowley was actually right all along, and then Aziraphale can feel safe to align himself with whatever the demon is doing. Sometimes Aziraphale even tries to convince Heaven to do the right thing with him. During Armageddon, Aziraphale avoids telling Crowley the truth because he thinks it would be better to get Heaven to stop doing the wrong thing. And he’s right, a lot of problems would be solved and life would be easier if Heaven would listen to Aziraphale and stop inflicting their harmful views on the world.

It would be nice if Aziraphale would realize, at the end of the first season, that Heaven is not interested in being good or even being right; they just want to win. Aziraphale is too naive and pure to believe that of Heaven. After everything, he still wants to be an angel, and he still wants to be part of a Heaven that is doing good. What he did at the end of season 2 is not at all out of character for him. It makes perfect sense that he would want to take the opportunity to change Heaven for the better. Anyone can see what a delightful place it would be with Aziraphale making the decisions. Angels could drink hot chocolate and stack books in their offices or pop down to Earth to go to the theater. Humans could live without worrying about Armageddon or the Great Plan or having their lives destroyed over a bet. And demons (or at least one specific one) who were good and loving could be forgiven and become angels again so they don’t have to be forced to carry out evil acts and always be looking over their shoulders.

Aziraphale didn’t do what he did because he doesn’t accept or love who Crowley is. He just genuinely believes that Crowley is still an angel deep down and that Heaven is where he belongs, where he could be the most happy. A better Heaven, where Crowley could create stars to last millions of years and put anything he wanted in the suggestion box. Aziraphale wanted to create a life for them to be together without any more worry of secret meetings, gray areas, and war. When Crowley rejected that life, it broke Aziraphale’s view of Crowley and his goodness. As ridiculous as it sounds, Aziraphale never expected that Crowley wouldn’t jump at the chance to be an angel with him again, and now his perception of their relationship is shaken.

Ultimately, Aziraphale can’t be so selfish as to choose to run away with the being he loves, when he knows he can do so much more good if he returns to Heaven. And so in trying to do the right thing for everyone, Aziraphale does the wrong thing for Crowley and himself. This is what is so hard about Aziraphale’s gray area; it cuts both ways. He has so much learning and unpacking to do, and I’m afraid he’s going to find that he will have much less power to change Heaven than he thought. All we can do is beg for a third season and then Wait and See.

#just my thoughts #writing this to try to heal myself after the finale #tv review #good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #aziraphale #michael sheen #religious trauma #exvangelical #character study

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baldurs-gape · 3 months ago

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Gap in the Resume

In a way, Gale should have been grateful to Elminster, the man had pulled strings to get him the interview. Life was all well and good but he did feel a little guilty for relying so heavily on Astarion, not to mention it was setting a bad example that they made ends meet through skills of theft and contract killings. Determined to make an honest life, Gale had started job hunting once life had started to settle a bit and his hands weren't quite so full. Brushing out an invisible wrinkle from his tunic, he waited on the creaky leather sofa. Finally, the door opened.

"Mr. Dekarios?"

Standing so quickly his vision speckled, Gale tried to look confident as he approached the Dean of the school. It wasn't Blackstaff, he couldn't go back there, not after everything but a less prestigious school might just be what he needed.

"Good to meet you, and please, call me Gale." He shook hands with her eagerly and settled on the even less comfortable chair by the impressive desk.

"Elminster has talked highly about you and your skills. It made me think that perhaps you were a little too modest on your CV."

"Yes, well, some things are easier to explain in words than with in on paper."

The Dean looked at him over her glasses with a smile. "Well, here's your chance, Gale. Why would an ex-Chosen of Mystra herself want to teach at our school of all places?"

Rather than say that he was scraping the barrell and needed his old mentor's help in getting honest work, Gale tried to smile, cleared his throat and straightened his back. He'd rehearsed this, it was going to be fine, smooth even."

"Teaching has been somewhat thrust upon me in the last eight years or so. It's a little difficult to always keep track of time in the Underdark. It wasn't a career I had ever really entertained until I got firsthand experience of how rewarding it could be."

So far so good, the Dean nodded along and settled back with a more relaxed posture. Emboldened, Gale decided it was better to throw in some examples to back his words up.

"Perhaps my proudest moment as a teacher was when I took a small group on an expedition towards Lenore's tower and we encountered yet another minotaur - I swear they are the cockroaches of the Underdark - and the six with me made a meal of it." The somewhat puzzled look he received had him rushing to explain. "Before it would have been a lot of snapping and snarling at each other, more blood wasted than drank. Sebastian had a nasty habit of trying to claw the eyes out of anyone who so much as was near him when drinking. Yet there he was, happily sharing the bounty with five others!"

"Mr. Dekarios, Gale-" the Dean held up a finger, "-just what exactly do you teach? I was under the impression you were a wizard."

"I am!" Indignant, Gale huffed. "But you try teaching magic to 7000 feral vampire spawn. Manners had to come first."

"Seven. Thousand. Vampire. Spawn."

Nodding with vigour, Gale's arms came into play as he began to explain.

"We were responsible for them after freeing them. Well, first we had to sort out the Netherbrain while the Gur rounded them up and kept them safe from everyone including themselves. It wasn't like we could abandon them. I happen to take responsibility very seriously. It began with a book club for the more recently turned and those interested and just grew from there." Barely stopping to take a breath, he continued, "Trust me, I wanted to show them the wonders of magic but some of them couldn't even read, a tracesty if you ask me."

A strained smile appeared on the Dean's face. She sat primly, hands clasped on the table between them.

"Did this happen after your status as Chosen was revoke?"

"Yes. Well, not immediately. I spent a year trying to tame the Netherese orb in my chest." At that, the Dean looked alarmed. "Don't worry, it's all taken care of now, it's old news. But for a year I worked heavily on the research of the elimination of Netherese fragments bonded to a human entity. Alas before I could refine my findings and publish, a Nautiloid snatched me up as I was hanging my washing. Now, I know mindflayers don't have emotions in the same capacity but it was downright rude. Then they put the tadpole in my brain."

By that point the strained smile had fallen away and the Dean was outright alarmed, edging away from the table and away from Gale. Off script and caught up in the story, he wasn't slowing down.

"Anyway, you've probably heard of the Baldur's Gate Netherbrain incident. That was me and a couple of others who are now good friends of mine. But try putting that on a resume. It wasn't relevant to teaching magic really. I don't want to walk into the classroom as some mighty hero, I just want to be normal and treated as such. And now the spawn as all mostly settled, I feel I can leave them without fear of any incidents. I did so enjoy teaching them that I thought; why not? I could do this with young people. They'll probably be more likely to singe off your eyebrows by mistake than try to drain you of blood. Much cheaper if you ask me, scrolls of revivify used to make up a good 70% of our weekly expenses."

Tirade over, Gale leaned back in his chair and sighed, glad to have got that all out. A little sheepish at having gone so far off script, he offered a tiny smile. "Do you have any other questions about the gap in my resume? Because I don't think I touched on the mental health of students. Mystra demanded repeatedly that I kill myself. It is safe to say I wouldn't ever be anything but accepting and nurturing of even the most frustrating minds in the classroom. They're safe with me."

"Actually," the Dean's voice was a little breathy, "I think you've been very informative, thank you. I can let you know the outcome of the interview in the next tenday once all interviews for the position have concluded. Thank you so much for coming in today."

She stood and Gale copied. This time she didn't stand close to usher him out the room, a rather large amount of space was left between them. Gale's heart sank. It wasn't the first time an interview ended so abruptly and with such false smiles. Nodding, he turned to the door and left.

Outside, Astarion was leaning against the wall, covered from head to toe for safety.

"How did it go?" he asked.

Sadly, Gale shook his head and deflated. "I went off script. At least she didn't call security I guess?"

"Not to worry. We'll find a place. Hells, we could probably even found it, the Underdark Academy, a place for the unruly to come and be transformed into etiquette experts. What do you think?"

Laughing, Gale bumped their shoulders and sighed, trying to let go of the disappointment that had settled in his gut.

"You say the sweetest things to me, don't you?"

Their hands tangled until fingers interlaced and Astarion pulled it up to press a kiss to the back of Gale's. This job wasn't to be but that was alright. They had all the time in the world to figure it all out. And for Gale to discover that while he was in the interview, Astarion had stolen anything that moved from the school.

#bloodweave #gale x astarion #gale/astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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fxchild · 1 year ago

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The Switch

Miles Fairchild x fem!reader

Chapter nine: Make you stay.

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Miles pov

I think it's been one- no. Two weeks, since Y/n had that.. encounter? It's not like we had sex or anything but I definitely didn't expect to make out on her bed until Flora came banging on her door complaining about a nightmare, while Y/n forced me to hide under her damn bed on the cold floor for half an hour while she made sure Flora went to sleep and didn't bother us again. I was kinda glad we got interrupted if I'm being honest. Even though Y/n pounced on me like a lion to a gazelle, she seemed pretty nervous whenever I kissed her too hard or if I touched her leg. Believe it or not things have been even more awkward than before when we were constantly nipping at each other and now I'm starting to miss the fighting more than the dry tension in the room.

Anyways, I've got about fourteen days to make things less awkward and for her to stay with us for the summer. I heard her talking on the phone a few days back, thinking about taking up a different job in California. Her teacher recommended it or some shit, get into a better college. She's not going to Harvard I know that for sure.

Something that's been pissing me off is that Quint has been messing with her head so now she sleeps with the door off and the lamp lights on. I asked him to lay off but it's not doing much. I've been trying to sneak in to make sure he's not fucking with her in her sleep or anything. She's only sixteen like me after all, he shouldn't be messing with kids our age, especially the ones I want to stay.

Uhm, another thing is that I've been out of it for a day or two. Like my throat is pretty dry and I've had a wicked headache. I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow with a cold I'm gonna be pissed.

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Your pov

It's been about two weeks since Miles and I had that half-assed hookup. Ever since then it's been so awkward. We can't even speak to each other now for more than two sentences before getting freaked out and forgetting what we were talking about. I mean, it's easier to focus on Flora and her work, but at the same time it's boring without being able to pick a fight with Miles. I miss our back and forth bickering because at least it kept us talking and occupied. I have fifteen days before I go back home for the summer, I really wanted to stay but I've gotten more job offerings in new places and I want to go out and explore. Plus, spending the summer in some creepy ass house, with a boy who can't even be in the same room as me for five minutes doesn't seem like the ideal summer. I feel bad for leaving Flora, and I guess Miles because they are all alone with Ms. Grose, who is lucky if she can live another four years. But I need to put myself first, that's what's important. I just wish Miles would talk to me before I leave, because even though we snap at each other, he's been growing on me. I'm not saying I like his stuck up asshole personality but I see how he is with Flora and I sometimes wish he could be able to open up to me like that.

This morning I woke up to the sound of projectile vomiting. I figured it was coming from Flora's room since she ate a lot of chocolate last night. I ran to her room to check on her to find her still asleep in her bed. Then I realized that the puking and groaning was coming from Miles room. I debated on leaving him there to take care of himself since he thinks he's grown and can take care of himself but then I remembered the time I was drunk. The way he drove me home at 2am and stayed outside my door all night in case I felt sick again. I walked into his room and knocked on his closed bathroom door.

"Miles, it's just me. I'm gonna come in okay?" I say as I hear him groan and spit into the toilet. I open the door to see his face almost glued to the toilet bowl, gasping and throwing up. I sit next to him and rub his back, grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper so he can wipe his mouth when he's done. "Get it all out, that's it.." I whisper to him as he continues to gag.

When he finishes he grabs the toilet paper from my hand and wipes his mouth, flushing the toilet. I let him sit on the floor with his back pressed against the wall for a moment as I grab a washcloth, drenching it in cold water. I put it on the back of his neck as he tries to stand up. He walks over to me where I'm putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and handing it to him.

"Make sure to brush your tongue too." I put the cap back on his toothpaste. "I'm gonna get you a new shirt, there's a little bit of puke on it." I point to the spot on his shirt. I walk out of his room and open his closet, looking for an old shirt in the piles on the floor. Miles walks back into the room and curls up on his mattress with his washcloth in his hands. I didn't even realize he came back into the room until he spoke up and groaned.

"Jesus it's fucking freezing in here.." I turned around to see him shirtless, breathing heavily and laying down. I grab a random green shirt and walk over to his mattress.

"No Miles, sit up you have to let your stomach settle for a bit." I prop his pillows against the wall and help him sit up a bit. I let him put his new shirt on and pulled the covers up to his waist. I felt his forehead and winced at his temperature. "Miles, you're really hot." I sighed and bit my bottom lip trying to think of how to take care of him.

He let out a chuckle and wrapped a hand over his stomach. "I'm hot? Thanks.." I frown at him since this isn't something to be joking about. "Not funny." I say with pursed lips and put the washcloth on his forehead.

"I'm gonna go to the store to get you some medicine. Flora used it the last time she was sick. Do you want me to pick you up something?" I put my hands on my hips and waited for his response.

He sat there for a second to think, "Am I even allowed to eat anything? Like I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat when you're sick." He tilted his head, squinting his eyes.

"You're allowed to eat Miles but only if you feel up for it. I can pick you up some grits, or popsicles? Do you sound up for that when you get your appetite back?" I rub the back of my neck, giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'm not hungry..I-I don't care okay? I'll be fine by tomorrow." He shakes his head and waves his hand in the air.

"Okay, well I'm still going to the store because I'm not putting up with your whining later. I'll be back in an hour okay?" I shrug and ruffle his hair lightly before trying to smack my hands away.

I brush my teeth, grab my keys and put on some slippers. I head out to the car to start for the store.

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Miles pov

She couldn't have taken any fucking longer to get back from the store could she? I'm sitting in my bed, trying my best for an hour to hold my stomach until she comes back but it's getting too painful. I ran to the bathroom throwing up nothing but stomach acid. I was panting and almost crying from the pain, it felt like my stomach was twisting. Y/n hears me gagging and rushes into the bathroom to rub my back and hold back my hair. When I'm done, there's tears in my eyes from the pain and she gives me this stupid sad look like she feels sorry for me or some dumb shit. I sit on my bathroom counter as she hands me my toothbrush again. She opens up a small can of Gingerale and puts it on my nightstand.

"You don't have to drink it now, but if your stomach feels funny again try some. It works trust me." She smiles and feels my forehead again to see if my fever had gone down a little. I sit there under the covers with my head against the wall as Y/n sits at the end of my mattress reading a book.

"What's that?" I say weakly, motioning to the book. I catch her attention and she smiles. "A book?" She giggles trying to be funny or something.

"Yeah, no shit." I chuckle and she gives me an unamused look. So apparently I'm not allowed to be funny anymore I guess. "What's it about?"

"It's about a prince trying to find his princess through a dream. It's really cute." She gets up to sit next to me on the mattress, showing me the blurb.

"Oh.. fantasy?" I mutter out as a question.

"Yeah, I like fantasy. You don't?" She tilts her head to look at me, tabbing her book before closing it. I shrug, "I mean, it's not bad but I just can't ever get into it."

"Well maybe that's because you haven't read a good one." She smirks, and for a second I feel like we aren't talking about books. I shook my head and stayed silent for a few minutes.

"You know, I usually get sick in the summer." I give her a side glance. I lied, I never get sick. This was the first time in probably a year and a half I've gotten sick. "I mean, who's gonna get me a cold washcloth and rub my back when I'm throwing up?" I smirk at her slightly.

"Ms. Grose?" She jokes and I roll my eyes.

"Be serious Y/n. She's so old I think she's gonna kick the bucket any day now. And when she does that, who's gonna help me take care of Flora? I don't have any parents you know." I sit up more and turn to face her, putting my hands in my lap.

She sighs and turns to face me. "Who said I was leaving?" She gives me a confused look.

"Y/n I heard you on the phone. I mean California seems nice, but is that what you really want?" I give her a dead eyed look and raise a brow.

She studies my face letting out a deep breath, "Miles, you don't even like having me around. We fight all the time, why do you want me around?" She shakes her head and leans back a little bit.

"Come on, Flora will miss you. She'll be upset that you aren't coming back. I mean she really loves you, fuck, she wants you to be her mother! She needs you, Y/n- I-I need you okay? I can't even take care of myself while I'm sick and you expect me to take care of myself, a whole property and a little girl? I mean, jesus, what do I have to do to make you stay?" I spurt out quickly, motioning my hands everywhere with dramatic tones.

She smiles for a moment and grabs my hand, "You just did." She gives me a sincere look, like we finally came to an agreement. I let out a relieved sigh I didn't even know I was holding and she giggled. "Why do we fight so much? Everything would be so much easier if we just listened to each other, you know?" She asks even though she sounds like she already knows her own reason.

"I think you know why I do it.." I look at my red candles I caught her staring at one day in particular when she first came into my room.

She looked at the candles then back at my eyes. "Because you don't know how to treat people?" She barely whispered out. She looked into my eyes for a moment before speaking once more. "I only pick fights with you cause I think you're kinda cute." She admits, leaning back again.

I raise a brow, "You think I'm cute?" I chuckle and she let's go of my hand, she's trying to bite back a smile.

"Yeah, you're cute. So what?" She smirks and we stare at each other. I think we were both waiting for one of us to do something, anything. But no one moved or spoke. After a moment of my silence she got up and put the covers back over my waist. "You should get some rest, it's not good to stay up when you're delirious." She gave me a dejected look and turned off my lamp.

"I'm not delirious." I grab her wrist gently and assure her.

"You're sick, Miles." She gives me a stern tone, and eyes me down to let go of her wrist.

"I know what I'm saying, Y/n." I gulp and give her the smallest smile I could muster and let go of her wrist, laying back into the pillows. She slides a hand on my forehead and it goes into my curls. She kissed my forehead and walked to the door.

"Get some sleep, call me if you need anything okay?" She gave me a sad smile and walked out of the room.

Now she was just confusing me because did she just reject me without either of us talking about dating? I don't think I asked her out but I think I wanted to. I want to I really do, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when she can't take me seriously? I better get over this damn sickness soon.

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Hi hi! It's fxchild back again with another chapter! Sorry if this is bad I had to rewrite it THREE times because it kept god damn deleting. This took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to write (I timed it yes) so hopefully you enjoyed it. Plsplspls if you did not see my other post to put some requests in because this will be one of the last chapters until Mr. Fairchild finishes his story. I literally do not care what you ask me to write as long as it's not acc insane. If my requests don't work PLEASE dm me I will answer because no one texts me like ever ! Anyways, I love you guys so so much 💕 thank you for continuing to motivate me to write.

-fxchild

#fanfic #finn wolfhard #miles fairchild #the turning #miles fairchild x reader #miles fairchild smut #the switch #fxchild

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random-and-average · 1 year ago

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Yandere Red Guy Headcanons

Content Warning(s): None? Other than pretty cringe writing tbh

Author's Note: Stumbled upon DHMIS once more and wanted to write something about my favorite character! I considered making some NSFW headcanons, but I don't know how that would work? I mean, a couple of Google searches suggested a few ideas, but I also can't write smut for the life of me, no matter how hard I try. Anyways, please don't die from the cringe that is me trying to write Red Guy in a not OOC way.

Red Guy, whom I'll just call Red because it's easier, is very protective of you and is willing to sacrifice Yellow Guy and Duck to ensure that you're safe

During lessons, he'll try his best to get the teacher's attention if it looks like they're going to focus on you

Red will also attempt to put you in the best possible position during these lessons along with him (think of Red in the Jobs episode)

You become another reason for him to escape this hellish world he's found himself in; he wants to get out with you and live a happy life together

Goes berserk if you get hurt—purposefully disrupts lessons, attempts to hurt the teachers, yells at Yellow Guy and Duck

After each lesson, he'll comfort you to the best of his ability and does whatever he can to make you happy, even if it pushes him out of his comfort zone

(For instance, though he would most likely never tell you, he dislikes it when Yellow Guy interrupts your private time together, but if being with him helps you smile, then he'll bear the jealousy, for you)

Speaking of, Red gets jealous really easily

You're the best thing that ever happened to him, so he can't let you go

Whenever he's jealous, he simply becomes more passive-aggressive and tends to murmur his displeasure under his breath

Isn't usually violent though, key word being "usually"

Should he be pushed to his limits, Red is fully capable of physically taking out his frustrations on someone whom he perceives as a rival or enemy

His love language? Quality time together and acts of service

He'd like to flirt with you, but it never comes out right

"Hey, you know, you look a lot like a..."

"Like a what?"

"Thing that... shines and... dazzles..."

"A jewel?"

"Well, no, jewels aren't... you're more..."

"It's okay. I understand what you're trying to say! Personally, I think you're dazzling and charming as well! Oh, it seems Yellow wants me to come over. See you, Red!"

"No... that didn't come out right. Ugh..."

He would also like to hold hands outside of doing so to destress, but he doesn't know if you guys are close enough to do that

(Hand holding is a big deal, you know)

Whenever he's with you, he feels... safe and secure

As long as you're right beside him, he rarely loses his temper since he just squeezes your hand to calm himself down

In a world that seems to drain his sanity with each passing lesson, you're the only one providing him that stability that allows him to endeavor for a better future with his rationality still intact

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #red guy dhmis #red guy x reader #officially crazy at this point #i think i have a problem #yandere dhmis #dhmis x reader

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skunkes · 5 months ago

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I hope this question isn't out of line, but I'm curious what you would say Al's biggest flaws are! Talon's flaws are very front and center in his characterization (in a good way!) and I feel like Al's are maybe more subtle or he's better at hiding/managing them 👀

i feel al's flaws seem very like, job interview "oh my biggest weakness? Ummm i work Too hard" if just listed in bullet points, but it fits for him. he's actually had a pretty secure upbringing with only a few outlier incidents

The working too hard is/was one, as he's worked through it but the capacity for such a thing is still there, he's the kind of person who will get tunnel vision over something, big or small, and "finding it easy to prioritize everyone but himself" is another constant and strange mix.

There have been points of his life where knowing him was like dating a surgeon, and you wouldn't hear from him for very long since he was constantly filling any amount of free time in his life with Something to do so he could have some alone time (which was the opposite of what he needed at the time due to the event that caused it) so that he wouldn't have to think about himself or taking care of himself. This would be any and everything, excessive activity and unhealthy amounts of exercise, odd jobs, meticulous hobbies in isolation. Stopping/relaxing for even a moment would mean it would take longer for him to be Useful to others again once he "got over" what was happening to him, though all of this also made him not want to be around others for long

Once that has been managed it's still easy for him to prioritize others because he's a caretaker at heart....he loves being a safe familial figure to everyone. The mom friend, the dad friend. This alone isn't bad but it is when paired with all the other stuff. I've talked before about how he was bullied by a teacher in his childhood for being the biggest (height and weight) in his class, and made an example out of for being "potentially dangerous" because of this, in order to keep his classmates in line.

This is partially why he struggles with putting himself first and also leads (more "led" bc it's gotten better but the potential for it to get bad again is still there ykwim) to him bending to the whims and needs of others because well if he stands up for himself people will be Scared of him, the big, tall, inherently dangerous (<- instilled in him as a child) man. He loved caring for others even before his bad schooling experience but it made it worse with "if im nice enough to others and do whatever they want nobody will ever see me as dangerous. And also without Taking Care of Others or putting myself to work I'm kind of a useless person, my worth is what I give to others."

He has also gotten better with this and it's easier to spot and intervene before he dips too far into that mental pit. I hope dis all made sense wrt the question, it felt important to mention it vs just being like "ummm workaholic sometimes, cares about others TOO much"

#long post #anonymous #skunk mail #oc text #it also connects like told he was inherently dangerous as a child and the effects of dis is what leads to him #staying in a very harmful relationship because he doesn't want to be seen as the big abusive monster compared to the much smaller #partner that's hurting him -> occupies himself with anything and everything #so he doesnt have to think abt what happened and so that he can still be of use to SOMEBODY #and be somebody's doting boyfriend after he Gets Over It #but he isolates himself (so he wont be a burden) and it takes longer for him to ''get over it''#and him taking long to get over it makes him feel bad bc he's no use to anyone like dis etc

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idontplaytrack · 2 months ago

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✧ Pinky promise

Jos Cleary-Lopez x fem! reader

Warnings: age regression, angst w/ fluffy ending, crying, temper tantrums

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

You were lucky you didn’t have to deal with this until today. Maybe not lucky, maybe you’ve done a pretty good job forcing yourself to believe that you could keep it together every time. Today, you’ve finally reached your breaking point. After unintentionally slipping into regression in one of your last few classes of the day, you couldn’t pay attention. As a result, your teacher was very unhappy about it and asked to talk to you after class had ended.

You asked for permission to use the bathroom, and took your phone with you.

‘Will be late.’ You sent a voice note to Jos, ‘Need to talk to Wade.’

‘I’ll meet you there, baby.’ She replied, knowing that something had happened since you never sent her voice notes usually. You’d typically only do this when regressed for easier communication— she’d re-taught you how to do that while you were regressed so you knew what to do if you needed her. This was also one of the ways to let her know you were regressed.

When the final bell of the day went off, students filtered out from the classroom. You sat at your desk waiting for most of them to be outside already before you walked up to the front of the room where Mrs. Wade sat. You were clutching onto the strap of your backpack for dear life, ridiculously anxious and feeling like you could cry any moment.

The door creaked open, Jos’ head poked in the door, “Hi, I’m here for y/n.”

“I only asked to talk to her.”

“I’m aware, Mrs. Wade. But I think it’d be better if I’m present.”

Wade’s brows were raised, confused, but she allowed it. “y/n, I need to know why you’ve been becoming less and less attentive and participative in my classes lately. At first I thought it was just a long day, but it’s becoming more frequent, I can’t keep excusing that.”

Jos could tell the teacher was more concerned than angry, but you were already overwhelmed and also struggling to understand the question.

“‘M sorry, I don’t mean to do that.” You managed.

“Is everything okay at home? Because I’ve been hearing very similar things from your other teachers. Or are kids here bullying you?”

You felt that lump in your throat, and tears were brimming in your eyes. Jos stepped forward, “Um, have you been notified by the school about her age regression?”

The teacher looked surprised. “I— have not. Is that what this is? She has documents with the school, does she not? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t aware.”

“Just yesterday, our math teacher called her stupid in front of the class because of this. Obviously that did not go well. You’ve actually been the most calm teacher of hers I’ve seen when it’s been brought up.”

“So…the school’s been giving her, and you, problems?” Wade’s gaze softens watching you fiddling with the strap of your backpack and picking at the skin of your thumb.

“Well, the school knows. It’s more so the teachers that add onto the problem.” Jos answered, grabbing ahold of your hand so you would stop.

“I want to make sure my students feel safe here. They may need to be here to study but I don’t want to just be here to teach. What can I do?”

“If it happens in your class, she’ll likely asked to be excused so she can use the bathroom. Because she needs to inform me, I’m her caregiver. She isn’t too independent when in the headspace. Neither does she have the ability to be doing schoolwork of this level. So, I usually sign her out and take her home until it passes. I catch her up on any missed schoolwork and assignments, though, of course.”

“You’ve talked to her other teachers before, you said?”

Jos nodded.

“I’ll talk to them again for you about it. It’s not right if they make things worse for her by reprimanding her or, worse, humiliating her in front of other students. When she’s in my class, don’t worry about it— I’ll let her do what she has to do to reach you. She isn’t the first student of mine who deals with this so I made sure I went to learn more about it.”

“Alright.” Jos nods, giving the older woman a tight-lipped smile, “We’d really appreciate that, thank you.”

Wade smiled in understanding, “I’ll let you girls get on your way. Bye-bye.” With that, Jos took you by the hand and left the classroom. She wanted to take a left and go for the exit, but you yanked her to the right— towards the bathroom. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You sprinted for the bathroom and before she could even process what was happening, you were throwing up into the toilet. Fuck. Were you unwell or was this because of the sheer anxiety you felt when Wade singled you out to ask to talk to you?

————

It was from the anxiety. Jos made sure you were okay and not sick before she allowed you to do whatever you wanted to do— no fever or signs of infection whatsoever. ”You feel better?”

You nodded wordlessly, still picking at the broken skin on your thumb. “Hey.” She coaxed, “Let go of that, cariño.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by that request. “Baby, it’s gonna hurt if you keep doing that.” Jos continued. You huffed, scurrying to the middle of her bed and wrapping yourself under the covers. Stubborn, that’s what you were. She was too, and honestly she found it amusing. “You’re gonna ignore me, aren’t you?”

“No.” You pouted while facing away from her. She sat down on the floor on that side of the bed just to talk to you. “Nap time?”

You shook your head. “Okay.” She replied. “What do you wanna do?” Jos asks, stroking your cheek. “Nothing.” You said back with a soft sigh.

“Alright.” Jos smiled softly at you, “Do you want anything? A snack? Juice?”

“No.” You answered shakily.

“Hey, you’re safe with me, sweetheart.” She brushes a fallen tear away. “You’re safe with me.”

You could only manage a nod as you swallowed the tears. Your emotions were still running pretty high, but you were doing better now that you were in way more familiar environment. You didn’t want to cry anymore, you were tired of that.

“Snuggles?” She suggested. You agreed, nodding your head, lips tugging into a little smile.

Jos climbed into bed with you, settling herself right next to you. “Hi.” She chuckles, brushing the stray hairs out of your eyes. You slowly snuggled up against her, face smushed up against her chest. Sniffling, you allowed yourself to start relaxing at last, your pointer finger tracing the ribbed pattern on her top mindlessly. Your eyes…followed your hand as it moved along on the fabric.

“My tummy hurts.” You muttered.

“Worse? Or a little better than just now, baby?”

“Better.” You told her, “But owie.”

She shushed you, rubbing your back, “I know, I know, baby. It’ll be okay in awhile, alright?”

“I don’t like itttt.” You wailed.

“I know, love. I hear you, I’m sorry.” She continues, “You wanna go do some drawing or colouring instead so you’re—”

“Okay.” You agreed tearfully. Giving you one final hug and a soft kiss on the head, she unwraps her arms from around you and stretched out her hand for you to grab. Now that you were sat up, she hands you a colouring book, a drawing block and crayons. She let you choose, she was just happy to be there and keep you company. Jos was pretty adamant to calm you down, knowing that you had The Power too and if you were too agitated, it could accidentally be triggered and you might hurt yourself.

You poured out all the crayons and grabbed the black crayon, hastily scribbling a mess on the first sheet of paper in the drawing block. Jos was initially slightly taken but let you safely release those feelings nonetheless. You needed it and that was clear— so clear. You’ve never done this before, you were usually pretty easy to calm down. Today was an exception. Of course, Jos was worried. So worried. She couldn’t think of what could’ve possibly triggered you to regress at school. And this much. You could barely form sentences.

While you were occupied with a task, Jos could typically leave for a minute to grab something to drink or a snack. But now, you were sobbing and practically screaming bloody murder. The drawing block and crayons were scattered all across her carpeted floor. She froze in her tracks, inhaling sharply as she processed everything in her head. Jos was clueless. But she knew you felt terrible for doing that, you were avoiding eye contact with her for dear life and trying to stop yourself from crying.

“Hey.” She inched closer to you.

“…’m sorry.” You blubbered, sniffling as the snot dripped from your nose.

Jos wished you weren’t crying. This sight was breaking her heart.

“That’s okay, you’re having some big feelings and you need to get them out, right?” Jos collected herself, sitting down on the floor again then pulling you down onto her lap. “You’re safe with me, little one.” She hands you the drawing block again, along with some crayons. “It’s okay, go ahead, baby.”

Jos places it in your lap as her hand holds onto a corner of it. You gingerly took a crayon from her and started to just colour random strokes on it, switching out the colours whenever you felt like it.

————

“Should we get something to eat, cariño?”

You licked your lips and shook your head, eyes purposely focused on the paper intentionally. “Mommy says…” You broke the silence, her ears perked up, “I should eat less.” Each word, you struggled to get them out as you recalled them.

Her hand was balled up into a fist thanks to the anger that rapidly spread throughout her body, accidentally zapping herself with The Power. She flinched and bit her lip. Oh, great. It was your Mom’s doing— again.

“Did you eat lunch?” Jos asked quietly. You shook your head, trying to ignore her.

She wanted to sigh, she was frustrated but not with you. She’d never be frustrated with you. “Baby, what’d I tell you?”

“She says I can’t—” You hiccuped, “I just wanted ice cream after dinner.” The crayon rolls out of your hand, Jos put down the drawing block on the floor, wrapping her arms around you from behind as her chin rested on your shoulder.

No wonder you were feeling so terrible— you were hungry.

As she helped you up from the floor, you heard her family get home. “You wanna come downstairs with me so we can make a quick bite to eat?”

“No.” You mumbled.

“That’s fine, let me put on a cartoon for you, hm? You wanna watching something while you wait for me to come back up? I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Okay.” You agreed, she handed you your favourite stuffed animal to snuggle with in the meantime, only briefly leaving the room after putting on your favourite cartoon for you on her laptop.

“Jos, you’re home.” Rob noticed, setting down his glass of water as he watched the pot on the stove.

“Yeah, I’ve been home all afternoon. y/n’s up in my room and she’ll be staying the night.”

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, she is of course more than welcome to join us.”

Jos took a peek at the dinner and decided it wasn’t for you. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think that will be suitable for y/n tonight.”

“Why would I take that the wrong way? As long as she’s not starving herself, she can eat whatever she wants.”

Jos froze when she heard those words, holding onto a baking tray and a bag of chicken tenders from the freezer.

“What?” Margot appeared out of nowhere— seemingly. “Is y/n okay?”

“Not really, no. Things are getting bad for her again, I think.” Jos admitted.

“Let her stay here. Do not let her go back home.” Margot says. Her parents saw you at your lowest, and have been extra protective of you. You had a second home here…a way better one. “How’s she doing today?” Margot chimed in again.

“Uh, she’s regressed.” Jos revealed. They already knew you used it as a coping mechanism. And they’ve been nothing short of supportive. “In my room, finally got her to calm down and found out just why it was particularly bad today.”

Rob looked at her, curious. “She was regressed in school. Wade talked to her because she naturally couldn’t pay attention and luckily I was there, though she was really understanding about it and said she’d talk to her teachers again for me. The anxiety from the conversation got so intense that she threw up, and she’d been in a bad mood for the last few hours. Eventually, she let slip that her mom said she should eat less. And when I asked, she hadn’t eaten much or maybe even anything today.”

“What?” Her parents exclaimed in sync.

Jos carried on with her task, “I know, I’m furious. Okay, anyway, I promised her I’ll be right back in like, a few minutes so is it okay if we talk about this later after I get her down for bed?”

“Sure, honey. Of course.” Margot agreed quickly. “I’ll bring the food up when it’s done. Don’t worry about it.”

Before heading back to her room, Jos grabs you a mini bag of pretzels from the pantry and a cup of milk. When she entered, you were laying on your stomach on her bed, watching cartoons like she saw you before. “Hi, baby. Here is some milk in your favourite sippy cup and a little snack. I made you some chicken tenders, okay? We’ll eat together later when it’s done?”

“Okay.” You sniffled, nodding.

“Alright.” She smiled, sitting down next to you and helping you open the snack packaging.

“Thank you.” You grinned, doing grabby hands before you got ahold of the little foil bag. Jos chuckled, “You’re welcome.” Bending down to kiss you on the head. At least you were eating something— food is food. It counts.

Jos laid down next to you, focusing her attention on the screen in front of her, and occasionally glancing at you. Things finally felt peaceful, Jos lets out a quiet sigh of relief as she felt your head leaning on her shoulder while you munched on the snack and drank your milk.

A little while later, Margot came in with a tray— Jos’ dinner and yours. “Thanks, Mom.” You heard, but didn’t look away from the laptop screen.

“Say thank you.” Jos nudged gently.

“It’s okay, honey. Just enjoy your dinner and the cartoons.” Margot interjected. While Jos had the garlic chicken and rice that her dad had made, you dug into your plate of chicken tenders — with a side of rice that either Margot or Rob decided to throw in, should you feel like having that too. Look, it didn’t have all the food groups or anything, but at a time like this one, they just want you to be fed. They didn’t want you to go hungry, unlike your own family.

“D’you want me to feed you?” Jos grabbed her spoon and ate a spoonful. You only shook your head, grabbed your spoon as well and scooped some rice into your mouth.

“Alright, baby.” Jos smiled, relieved. Silence fell between you two once again, allowing you to immerse yourself in the cartoons while you ate so you weren’t thinking about food, or whatever nasty things people remarked about.

Jos finished her dinner first while you took your time. She could only hope you weren’t hesitating, but she also didn’t want you to stuff yourself if you were already full. You didn’t say anything but once you were done with eating, you clambered back up to a corner of her bed so she took that as a cue to clear the dishes. “I’ll be right back.” She reminded before she took the tray and left. You just sat there, head rolled back against the headboard snuggling with your favourite stuffed animal— at least your mind was no longer racing.

“I’m back.” Jos announced quietly as she swiftly walked over to her side of the bed and climbed under the covers with you. Instinctively, you put your head in her lap and she began to run her hand through your hair.

“I know today’s been difficult, baby. A lot of big feelings…but I promise tomorrow will be better, okay?”

With your lips pouted, you held up your hand, pinky stuck out, “Promise?”

“Pinky promise.” Jos nodded, hooking her pinky with you. “Oh, hey— you wanna see something cool?”

You nodded your head excitedly. She held her two hands above your face, close together but leaving a gap between her fingers on both hands. A little spark showed up, “You see that?”

Your mouth hung slightly open as you gave her another nod. “That is a superpower that protects us from the bad guys.” Jos chuckles, showing it to you again.

“That’s cool.” You replied quietly.

“It is, isn’t it?” She says, putting her hands down. “Want me to teach you in the morning?”

“Yeah.” You laughed.

Jos smiled down at you endearingly, “I will. Let’s just rest tonight, hm? Then we can go out tomorrow? You wanna go to the movies tomorrow?”

Your eyes lit up in excitement.

“Yeah you do.” Jos lets out a breathy laugh, stroking your hair, “Okay— you wanna finish this cartoon before we get ready for bed?”

“Okay.” You agreed, “I want to.”

“Alright, cariño.” She patted your head, you turned onto your side to continue watching the cartoon, wherever it was left off. “Just the one then we’re gonna brush our teeth, okay?”

“Promise.” You said back, she feels you nodding your head.

“Pinky promise?” She asked playfully.

You answered, reaching back so she could hook her pinky with yours, “Pinky promise.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

This was going to be posted on my other blog but it became angst so…😬

#auli’i cravalho #jos cleary-lopez #the power(2023)#the power amazon #wlw fanfiction #age regression #reader discretion advised #wlw fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #reader x character #x reader #female reader #reader imagine #reader insert #lgbtqia #queer fiction

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bengiyo · 1 year ago

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Last Twilight Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Mhok began working and was pleased with his salary. He may be rough around the edges, but he was doing his "easy" job. He had some initial friction with Day around moving his things and taking care of the fish, but things came to a head when Day tried to run from strangers seeing his condition. Mhok got triggered, thinking Day might hurt himself, and broke into his room. Mhok got fired, but Porjai came to talk to Day about Mhok putting himself through an exercise to understand Day's disability more and the two have reconciled for now.

I like the two of them straightening Day's room together and understanding the system to help him find things. It's a relief to see Day having fun with it.

The inflatable dino costumes are so silly. This is fun.

Now, Mhok, you know better than to swipe through someone else's pictures.

They saw Day making progress around the house and made him instantly clam back up by suggesting he go back to school.

Mhok's relationship with Porjai is used very well here. I love that she has moved on from Mhok and is happy, so I don't feel bad about her giving perspective and wondering about some jealousy plotline.

I like the pace of the relationship between Mhok and Day so far. Day is already asking Mhok for help on his own.

I will always love teachers who refuse to let students give up on themselves.

Mhok is a good listener and supporter. I like that he doesn't involve himself in the conversations between the family or the teacher, and that he aids Day's attempt to avoid notice.

Said the name of the show. Finish your drinks.

Thank you for keeping the lights on, Oishii.

I like how Mhok plays with the preconceptions that he doesn't know much to encourage Day to figure out some things. It's a very gentle approach that uses Day's own ego to move him forward.

WE HAVE FINALLY USED THE BANGKOK METRO SYSTEM IN A BL. 🎉 IPYTM came close, but we never went inside.

I love that Mhok tried to prank Day with the pink shirt. Later, in the dressing room, we know he's watching out for Day because he confirmed that he knew what was on the shirt he picked.

I like the way the physical tension between them around Day's exposed body is building.

And Day made Mhok get the pink shirt! I love this.

Mhok being sure to include Day in the conversation with the bookstore owner is a great touch. I like that he didn't let Day give up and insisted they find the book today.

Even if it's a bit artificial, I like Mhok slipping the book where Day would find it to help him have a sense of accomplishment since Day had been also sifting through books.

The last page is missing? How will we know the ending? Okay, Aof. I see you.

Increasing the price because he's Mhok's friend was so fun. It's the kind of detail that makes the world feel like it has a history. It was clearly a joke and let Day have fun.

Oh, we were having such a good day, and now Mhok feels like he has to defend Porjai and in a fight against Porjai's two-timing boyfriend. Now Day is lost.

Oh my goodness, did Mhok switch to the pink shirt to make himself more visible? I am going to melt.

Mhok is so ready for people to look down on him that he immediately owned his own history rather than let the mom hold it over him.

Oh shit that was great eye shine from Jimmy when Day started saying how much he appreciates Mhok.

Not sure what all is going on with Night and Day yet, but I like that he came to Mhok's defense after they left the room.

That was a really well done wind down for this episode.

More of Film next week!!

So, I'm really loving this show and so glad that a GMMTV show is back to sound episodic structure. Jimmy and Sea both feel much more attuned to their characters and their chemistry feels a lot easier than their last outing. This is a solid watch

#last twilight #thai bl #bl series #last twilight the series #Ben watches

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word-wytch · 1 year ago

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tldr: extremely sappy and vulnerable post ahead

My baby, Don't Stand So Close To Me, turns one year old today.

After a lifelong history of abandoning creative projects, my love for the story I wanted to tell and my newly found passion for the art of writing finally surpassed my fear of rejection, and so I stepped out of the Shire and onto this very long road.

Listen, I know I'm talking about a fanfiction and being very dramatic, but in my opinion every creative endeavor holds the same amount of weight no matter if you're writing books for money, or writing songs for the radio, or songs played only in your bedroom. It all requires you to dig deep and face yourself.

This is the longest and hardest I have ever worked on a creative project in my life.

Over the course of the past year I have come to know myself in a way that I think only writing a novel chapter by chapter for an online community could accomplish. There have been some very dark times, but facing your shadow is always illuminating. Through it, I have grown exponentially both as a writer and as a person.

If I could offer one piece of writing (and life) advice it would be this: Let yourself be where you are. Love yourself here, now. You have been good enough, are good enough, and will be good enough, always. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Your only responsibility is to keep the flame of your joy for creating alive. And that's it. The rest will take care of itself.

I know this is easier said than done. I know this from the painful experience of having believed the opposite about myself at one point.

All artists want to be seen on some level, we need to be. But ultimately, no amount of external validation can supplement the intrinsic love you have for creating. It's even better shared with others, but it comes first from within. I would argue that even if all you had was an idea that made you so giddy that you had to run laps around the room, then you have it all. Your only job is to keep that love alive. It's what I'm chasing every day. More than followers, or notes, or any superficial measure of success. That feeling is everything. The love that I have for my art and this character is everything. The love that I have for myself is, ultimately, everything.

It is a natural part of the journey for all creatives to encounter blocks and adversities, so when it feels like you've lost that joy or you're dragging your forehead against your keyboard in the thick of it, please do not fret. The real secret is that you can never really lose the spark, because you are the spark. You'll feel it again. You're not broken. You haven't failed. Just love yourself anyway and let yourself be where you are, even if that's crying into your ice cream.

Because the gap between how you feel and how you want to feel is not something that once closed, will stay closed forever. It's something you love yourself back to again, and again, and again, and again. And maybe, after your muscles build and your blisters heal, you'll come to enjoy the journey.

For the first time in my creative life I truly feel seen. Thank you all for seeing me, for coming on this journey with me. Thank you to every reader who's left a kind word, every friend that I've made as a result of pursuing this. There are too many to name. I have never been a part of a fan community in this capacity and I feel so unspeakably lucky to have found such a home in this one.

I want to thank, most especially, the people who have both figuratively and literally held my hand throughout the last year behind the scenes. Thank you for sending me coffee, letting me bounce ideas, send massive emails, text feverish voice messages back and forth, keysmash spoilers at you, cry on your shoulder, and fangirl over our boy (and his teacher) @toxicjayhoo @storiesbyrhi @the-unforgivenn @munson-blurbs @jo-harrington @rip-quizilla

I love you.

#dssctm #dssctm updates #updates #personal

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