#i just wanted to brain vomit all over the page and that i did

[kerorowhump]

isn't it extremely fucked up how even though he says this was a joke right after this truly is the real words he would say to them if he was about to sacrifice himself to protect earth and humans to which we can infer also that 1 he's grateful for the knowingly limited amount of time he had with them and that he was able to be their friend (specifically fuyuki) so he is aware at the Very Least on a joking level that this is a chance which time will inevitably run out 2 he feels on some level guilt for his being a "freeloader" and living under their roof and obviously more in general getting them involved in the invasion stuff he can't walk out of, so in the back of his mind somehow he's trying to make up for and remedy this fact 3 most importantly, despite KNOWING that his position is fickle and he would've been required to choose sided eventually and lose all he has as he feared, he's not sacrificing himself by being platoon leader, because he also got to achieve happiness under this plan and within this platoon.

see, I say that because not too long ago I even discussed with friends that keroro was sacrificing some of his own happiness doing something he very extremely doesn't wanna do anymore (invasion) not only because he has to but also because it allows everyone around him to thrive in these conditions even if HE doesn't. they're all happy to be on earth, keroro is super lax with the way he treats them, barely scolds them for real or perceived mistakes

["you went a bit overboard" he says as he's literally dying buried in snow. great boss!]

(and when he does "scold", it's more average bickering what they do, and he doesn't come out on top a lot or anyways lacks that aura of respect you'd have to give any other military superior which allows for a more relaxed environment where they can thrive as themselves. you ever seen ofmd? think stede). and consistently ive seen so far that keroro is willing to put his life on the line for the mission and also step up when it comes to protecting his teammates specifically, but I think he's like, aware of what being a leader entails. and I know he does because he had this fuckin SPEECH ready to drop, joke or not!! like he pondered this stuff, he knows how he feels about the situation and... he concluded that he's happy the way things are. and that may be why it's so hard for him to commit to something and he's kinda stuck between sides, because it's not like keron bad earth good to him

he likes keron and he likes earth and while he's allowed to live in a way that allows him to betray neither, he's happy. that is his goal, so that makes sense. he's not without guilt and shame for his choices, but he's grateful they led him to where he is. a still moment in time where he can pretend he's on the right side on both parts.

I mean... IS that why he wants to be included with them as family so bad?

is that why it hurts when his teammates lose faith in his leader abilities?

could that be why he has semi-frequent (I would say...) breakdowns about the state of the mission despite not being motivated to do it, because this fickle balance he's created still hinges on it, let alone his reputation? HQ loves to remind him so. to tell him to hurry up.

it's all about enjoying the time you have with the people you love, and also give them a chance to find their own happiness in a way they couldn't have under normal keron rules. taking the brunt of everything that might go wrong for this.

but he's happy because they are, because he was able to achieve this, because he loves them, because he could at times believe they love him back, like he always wanted, I think, despite the circumstances that he's the reason for. it's a burdened happiness, hence why he also needs to apologize in the same breath, "for all the trouble he caused".

maybe in an ideal world there is no invasion, and he really could've gotten to be just that pleasant and cheerful freeloader alien, no guilt attached

but if that's the price to pay for having met the hinatas and having been able to give everyone in his platoon a second chance at a peaceful life, I believe that makes him happy. a peaceful life with the people he cares about, even if just for a while, and he's well aware of how fragile it is.

he really is often like "is the invasion all you can think about?" but then it's always weighing on his mind as well. it stings when that costs him the respect of his peers. it stings when that causes the hinatas to doubt him even when he's innocent.

but what choice does he have?

[thegnomelord]

Thinking of flying as a dragon with dragon Price

Price knows that after the loss of his wing he's never flying again, not on his own. But the sky still calls for him like a mother for her lost child, for a grounded dragon is a dead dragon, regardless of if he still breathes or not.

His body still craves the freedom of flight despite what he says of being over it, every flight in the helicopter or plane feeling twice as wrong as it did before, deadened nerves gnawing on his brain until they force the atrophied remnants of wing muscles to twitch every time he jumps out of the plane. He resigns himself to just watch the other fliers from the ground, you often finding him on the roof of the base watching the birds whenever the phantom ache of his lost wing returns.

And an idea comes to you.

Price just grunts when you wrap your arms around his pudgy belly, forcing his remaining wing to spread out so you can press your chest against his back.

"Need somethin'?" He grumbles, stuck between wanting to lean in to feel your warmth and pull away, what dragon would even want a flightless wyrm like him?, never noticing your arms lock in place.

"Yeah," Your breath fans his ear, lips kissing the skin. "Want you to fly." He can feel you grin.

"What nonsense are you-" Your wings spread out before he can finish and with a strong gust of wind and a beat of your wings you're shooting up into the sky with him in your arms. "- oh you bloody wanker!" He screams, the cigar slipping from his claws as he scrambled to hold onto you, wind blowing in his face.

You laugh as you soar through the air, "Relax!" You yell over the screeching wind, holding him tight.

And Price doesn't know when it happens, but his body calms down, adrenaline settling to sleep like a worn out beast. The wind fluttering his wing membrane feels nice, the sensation of the sky yielding beneath his flapping wing forcing a shiver down his spine, doesn't even notice when he starts purring.

You grin when you feel his chest rumble beneath your hands, dipping and diving through the sky and Price recognizes your movements — he spent decades practicing the same arial moves to woo future mates. And he can't help but smile, eyes closing and allowing his body to remember what it's like to fly.

----

Idl this came to me suddenly and I word vomited all over the page :/,

[magiccath]

Every Word

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which two idiots who believe their love is unrequited finally admit their feelings for each other

A/N: My old account got accidently deleted so I'm using it as an opportunity to rework some of my older fics.

Sometimes, you were so distracting to the Doctor. Often, you weren’t even trying to be. You just were. Your existence was enough to make him forget what he was doing. Like, right now. 

You were sitting in the TARDIS control room, a book in hand. You leaned casually back against the console, one foot crossed over the other. You bit your thumbnail anxiously as your eyes darted across the pages. Whatever the story was, it had you fully engaged. 

He loved how focused you were - like the book was the most interesting thing in the whole ship. Your head was bent over the pages, causing your hair to fall in your face slightly. He had to resist the urge to reach over and brush the strands away from your eyes. 

He was supposed to be fixing the console. Even if he wasn’t doing that, he should be doing things that weren’t staring at you. He couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong, looking at you like this. He shouldn’t be as enamored with you as he was. 

He ran his hands over his face, tugging slightly. He needed to snap out of it. You shifted slightly, the motion causing his eyes to wander back to you. It was so hard to look away. 

Sensing his eyes on you, you peeked out from behind your book. The Doctor turned a deep scarlet and whipped his head away from your direction, pretending to act busy. You chuckled lightly to yourself and returned to your book. 

The Doctor couldn’t help himself, his eyes drifted over to you again. And again. 

“Doctor?” You laughed when you caught him again. The man blushed and rubbed his neck anxiously. 

“Yes?” 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, setting the book down. The Doctor looked at you, confused. 

“You’re staring,” you elaborated, narrowing your eyes. 

He shook his head vigorously, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.  

“Do I have something on my face?” you rushed out, raking your hands across your face. 

“No, no,” The Doctor blubbered, “you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.” 

He regretted it immediately. He really shouldn’t have said that. 

You raised your eyebrow inquisitively. The Doctor was prone to rambles and word vomit, but they usually didn’t involve him calling you beautiful. This was uncharted territory, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested.

“I mean, you’re just naturally a really gorgeous person. More stunning than any star I have ever seen. Very possibly the most beautiful creature to exist. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone or something that matched your beauty,” the words came out in rushed clumps and you had to bite back a laugh. He was tripping over his words in an attempt to save face, but really he was just digging himself into a deeper hole. 

He averted his gaze and tugged at his hair. You found that he usually did that when the cogs in his brain were racing to keep up with his babbling mouth. 

“What I’m trying to say is there's nothing wrong with your face,” He gasped desperately, putting an end to his ramblings. 

You giggled quietly, trying to hide your laughter with a hand over your mouth. The Doctor chattered on all the time, but it was extremely rare you got to see him this flabbergasted. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he might actually have feelings for you. Ones that weren’t of the friendship variety, that is. 

“Thank you,” You grinned. The Doctor could feel his hearts melting. The minute you flashed him that smile he knew he was a goner. He loved your smile and even more, he loved being the cause of your smile. 

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smirked before walking to the other side of the room, averting the Time Lord’s gaze.

You didn’t want to ever admit out loud that you found the Doctor attractive. It’s not that you were ashamed of it. Practically everyone fancied the Doctor, he was just that kind of bloke. Rather, you couldn’t imagine him viewing you as more than a companion. But the way that he had been rambling on only a few minutes ago suggested otherwise…

The two of you never really bantered like this. Is that what this was? Was the Doctor flirting with you? The mere thought of it left you shaky and breathless. It felt too good to be true. 

The Doctor was shocked by your compliment, the words leaving him motionless. His reaction left you scared that you had gone too far, so you busied yourself with the numerous buttons on the console in front of you. Idly, you traced your fingers across them. 

“Really?” The Doctor asked, wide-eyed. You smiled to yourself. He could be so daft sometimes.

“I suppose so,” you said, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. Your words made the Doctor light up, a wide grin quickly taking over his face. 

“I’m quite fond of you, y’know?” You blushed, turning your head back towards the console. 

“I’m quite fond of you as well,” He said, moving closer to you. 

“Insanley fond,” you added. “You might even be my favorite person,” you shook your head.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, taking your hand in his. 

“I am?” You asked, genuinely shocked. 

“Of course! Have you met yourself?” 

You threw your head back laughing, the action making the Doctor smile to himself. 

“I love you,” he smiled adoringly, his wide toothy grin igniting a warmth in your stomach. You blushed and looked away, his gaze feeling insanely heavy.

“I- I mean... Uh,” He stammered, suddenly embarrassed by his confession. 

“Me too,” you interrupted his bumbling thoughts, looking up at his tall form. The Doctor stopped his blubbering and looked down at you. He swallowed anxiously, the action making his Adam’s apple bob aggressively. His eyes darted across your face, settling on your lips multiple times. 

“As more than a friend,” he whispered. 

“As more than a friend,” you repeated with a smile.

The Doctor's eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and back, silently asking for permission. You nodded gently, the motion hardly noticeable. It was all the invitation he needed to grasp your face in his hands, delicately leaning in. He hovered for a few seconds, still giving you time to pull away. 

You sighed with frustration, grabbing his tie desperately and using it to pull his lips into yours. 

The Doctor was stunned at first but quickly relaxed into the kiss. His hands draped around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. 

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling with the messy brown strands. You sighed deeply, the warm feeling in your stomach spreading across your body. 

The Doctor smiled against your lips, unable to contain his joy. 

After a moment, you pulled apart to gasp for air, your breaths coming out in quick pants. With red faces and lips plumped from the kiss, you smiled at each other before letting out a lighthearted laugh. His thumb trailed lightly across your bottom lip, the gesture gentle and loving. You ran your fingers along the seams of his suit, tracing the familiar lines. 

Still not getting enough of you, the Doctor plastered kisses across your face. He kissed your cheeks, forehead, chin, and collarbone lightly before landing on your lips again. This kiss was softer, more delicate. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. You let out a relaxed sigh and danced your fingers across the nape of his neck. 

“I meant every word,” He whispered, which made you laugh. 

“So did I,” you smiled up at him, before pulling him back in for another kiss.

[tobyisave]

the plot of "ethanol"

aka that Adamandi fanfiction I never finished last year (OTL) and companion to this drawing (x)! There were only a few pages (that I will never release) so instead here's what was going to happen, according to my old notes doc... it's mostly just Vincent angst I'm not gonna lie. I kinda stopped because I realized there was no plot at all and that's not how stories work

Also: I did not write adamandi. And it's been a *second* since I was Vincent. And cannot stress enough that even the finished parts of this are wildly unfinished. So make of this what you will kdlfdsjf

(tw for body horror, medical horror, suicide, self harm, others harm, vomit, you know the drill it's Adamandi)

CH1: "I love you, too"

Vincent wakes up in Hancock Infirmary, the medical center on Ardess campus. (It's incredibly sketchy that he's not in the local hospital instead -- especially since the Infirmary has been openly racist to him and Quincy before -- but evidently this is the best way to keep things under wraps.)

He has a traumatic brain injury (from fighting Beatrix), is probably a little drugged, and starts freaking out because he's in pain and everything looks super flat and fake...

But he sees his Phaethon award letter sitting on the nightstand and feels so relieved that he lets himself fall back asleep.

Later the doctor tells him "what happened" including a reference to Vincent’s suicide attempt and "stabbing his own eye" to which he's like my WHAT. He finally realizes he can only see out of one eye - he pokes his fingers into the "soft, swollen folds of meat" on his face (thanks past toby) and finds that the eye is completely gone.

Doc is like you might have amnesia? You also have a TBI. Also fill out this form to make sure you wont kill urself when we release you

Specifically, the form is like “How often in the past two weeks have you: Had trouble sleeping…. Had thoughts that you are a failure….. Wanted to hurt yourself….. Attempted suicide….” And because he only ticks the last one the final score is "1" and the doctor's like okay free to go! (this is totally anachronistic but i think its funny so it stays)

Doctor makes him call someone to help him get home.

For some reason he doesn’t want to call Quincy (he thinks bc he hurt Quincy really bad). He thinks over who else he could call – oh yes, that guy I’ve been hanging out with lately, Ambrose! Wait fuck…. For the first time he realizes that Ambrose is not here.

After phoning Quincy to pick him up (Q cries on the phone, V feels moved to but genuinely doesn't have the energy to cry or even say much - and they say I love you to each other, except its Weird and Uncomfortable this time), Vincent roots around in the medical waste bin and pockets his enucleated eye, which he's alarmed to find is bloody and kind of smashed to a pulp.

CH2: pretty peppermint green

(title from "asthma" by b/ulldog eyes)

Quincy shows up (btw they're they/them in this because I can) and Vincent remembers pretty much everything. They share a reluctant kiss --- after which Vincent is content to slip into the fantasy that things are back to normal --- and walk back to the dorm. It's lightly misting outside. On the way there, Vincent stops and kneels to vomit from his intense headache and nausea. Quincy tries to hold them/help them up after and it makes Vincent's heart race.

In Quincy's room, they lie in bed. Vincent is often the big spoon (lol) but he feels the eye in his front pocket squish against Quincy's back, so they switch for undisclosed reasons. Quincy keeps saying they're so glad Vincent is back and they love him so much. That strikes a terrible weird chord with Vincent, and he's just lying there and he can't see Quincy's face and he's practically pressed between them and the wall and he can't stop feeling like there's another guy in the room watching them both, and he's not sure if the knowledge that there isn't is comforting or scary, and he starts freaking out until he has to leave the room.

(Why that strikes a weird chord: Quincy kept dissing him until now, and now is lovebombing him? Is that because Vincent finally earned their respect academically or because Quincy is guilty or what? He can usually tell what Q's thinking but it's very opaque to him right now - either because of the TBI or because their history is so extreme. And what usually makes him feel calm and well - ie Quincy - is not working anymore).

Vincent goes downstairs and sleeps on the basement couch. He unlocks this memory -- or is it just an image he constructed to fill the gap? -- of Quincy holding him, the weapon still in their hands, those hands still bloody, their face twisted in a horrific expression he can't even describe.

CH3: 20 grams

(title - from "duck or ape" by roar - but references an old paper that claimed to experimentally calculate the weight of a soul by weighing a person before and after death - they were purportedly 20 grams lighter.)

In the morning, Vincent goes to his own dorm. His chair and desk and bedframe were all burned in the pyre, plus most of his paper and books, so there's just big square sun-stains everywhere and a lot of empty space.

He goes to his bottom shelf, where there's a few empty jars & cans & stolen lab glassware, and puts his old eye in an open beaker. There's a big jug of ethanol under his bed and he pours some in to preserve it. (This has been making the room smell awful by the way). The beaker goes on the shelf next to an array of other trophies (aka student organs) which he'd left as a sort of last display of genius that the world could find after he killed himself.

He goes to the mirror and is unnerved to realize that he's been fully bathed and his hair has been brushed out. He checks all the bruises on his body and tries to recount where he got each one - most are from previous murders and some are from the pyre. Even though he literally just got out of the hospital where he lost an eye, he looks a lot better than in the past few weeks just because he finally got some fucking sleep and idk they probably had him on an IV or something

After that he looks at his eye again with morbid fascination --- he's seen this exact wound on corpses before, but never seen it healing.

He considers taking out his surgery kit and trying to fix the eye. There's this question of if he could repair his damaged eye and see through it again, would he be able to see Quincy the same as he used to? His right eye never saw Quincy betray him. He wonders if Quincy burned themself again after last night - the first time he remembers that knowledge - and tears come even though he's still just standing there absently.

Anyway when he goes back to the shelf to look at his old eye, he frowns at how fucked up it is, and pulls down the bottle next to it instead. In the bottle are two blue eyes. He pulls one out in front of the mirror and presses it into his socket, which is rapidly filling with fluid; it overflows out of the socket as he pushes the eye in. This is agonizing because he's putting an eye covered in ethanol into an open wound.

He stands there looking at himself, still in his jacket, with one finger up to hold the eye in place, for like 10 straight minutes. He recounts all the unbelievable things he's done this year, the way people looked at him a bit differently as he started to get his act together. The way they looked each time he wound up the killing blow. Ambrose's eye still looks completely out of place on Vincent's face.

Everything else that happens!

Quincy & Beatrix

Beatrix was also going to be at the hospital for back up in CH2 apparently. so pretend that happened

Quincy finds out about the preserved eye (idk how lol) and confesses to Beatrix that it creeps them the fuck out. Beatrix assumes it's because it represents Quincy's guilt and tries to reassure them. That makes Quincy feel worse because to be honest they just thought it was disgusting and scary to see their lover's disembodied eye looking back at them from the bottom of a beaker.

Graduation

The three of them are planning on going together and walking through the Ardess Randolphitz graduation gate etc etc. Except all of them are kind of having a trauma reaction to the idea of going to graduation. Less so Quincy, because they missed the pyre graduation speech, but yeah. Nobody likes that.

Vincent thinks about skipping graduation but then checks his mailbox and realizes he failed two of his classes this semester. AN: In my notes it said this: the letter says he has to take an extra course to graduate - he literally cant afford that (used to have a scholarship but obviously broke the contract) so he can't graduate. His family is in China and he cant stomach the thought of explaining everything to them.

(Right before the Pyre scene he mailed a copy of the newspaper accusing him of murder to his family because he wanted his mom to see what he did (/pos??). Then he has this sudden realization that his mom has no idea who Vincent Aurelius Lin is. Not really that relevant to this fic, but I actually consider this canon to the show because I sat backstage and did it every night with the newspaper prop lmao)

Anyway I don't think the graduation logic checks out anymore, I mean he won the Phaethon so he kind of has to graduate lol. Oh well.

Quincy & Vincent

Honestly... I didn't write a lot about what happens with them because one of the central concepts of the fic is that they break up! And unfortunately I seem to have stopped working on this around the time that Quincy reentered the story, so I have no idea what that actual arc was going to look like. Upon revisiting this story though, it's pretty obvious I was just using everyone else as a sounding board for Vincent angst anyway... so that kind of sucks lol

Room situation

Vincent... doesn't have a bed... so he sleeps in the basement of Stutton (?) again. Unlike the months leading up to the pyre where he was completely sleepless (aka restless and unable to stop mentally planning each of his murder schemes and the things he would say about what inspired them after it all came out), he falls asleep really easily now (...because of the TBI). Beatrix encounters him there and heres a quote from my google doc:

B: oh my god. don't tell me you lost your keys again 

V: no. i just… dont have anywhere to go

B: … do you want my room key? like ill have to kick you out in the morning but me and portia are pulling an all nighter right now 

V: thats not what i meant. (licks lips) beatrix im not graduating

(AN: damn.... where CAN he run........)

B brings V to news room where portia and her are working, planning to use portia as the emotional support dog. this works on portia's end but vincent is not very reactive.

Beatrix is renting a house for the summer and invites Lin to sleep on her couch (upon learning that he planned to squat or get back with Quincy to survive)

Summer: Bea's house

P: Bea, he's a murderer! You're going to let him live in your house? Alone?!

B: Harper, just.... look at him

*The most hollow dead eyed broken toy of a Vincent you've ever seen*

^^^^ this is like the establishing quote of the fic, just vincent looking like that is the whole concept actually. Obviously thats also what I tried to capture with the drawing too

While shes at work he gets very understimulated and he wants to Plot Evilly and hes really really frustrated that he cant (because that project is over and he can't focus)

he used to journal/stalk every day but "lately... i cant even remember whats been happening lately." he has headaches constantly and hasnt written in weeks 

he starts chain smoking on her couch (AN: interesting choice sldjfsdkfjdsfls)

she gets back and is upset about this (the smell and he used like all of her cigs)

→ a) he realizes he cant really feel remorse over this (only intellectually he understands it and goes outside)

-> b) he's confused to see her refuse a cig from him. okay bea thats new what are you pulling here

in her office, bea (feeling like she has adopted a stray dog) chews gum while reading a terrified letter from quincy who is about to move 

(AN maybe anachronistic that bea would try to quit smoking at this time?? im not sure.)

(Also - not sure if this ever came up explicitly, but in our production, Beatrix is the one who first offered Vincent the occasional smoke back in the day, and instead of ever buying any he mostly grubbed them off her (which you can maybe see at the beginning of little more in love). During the course of canon events he gets more addicted - and if i remember correctly, he also started going through withdrawal at some point, but I dont remember why he quit - I think because he stopped seeing Bea around so he kind of just stopped?? - if anything I guess it's symbolic of Bea kind of setting him up to murder and then disappearing from his life for months. The cigarettes weren't actually in the original script at all.)

vincent paces then goes to the drugstore

while hes there he uses the restroom to stare into his eye hole yada yada

(prior to going to restroom hes dubious about entering mens but its single stall anyway)

buys like a shit ton of cigarettes and pain medicine (which was probably like coke back then idk) and also candy

(cigs are for beatrix because he just wants to be loved…)

Phaethon did not give him any money at all by the way. Maybe this is the part where he should go huh I need a job even if I can't be a doctor

IDK where to put this but also - at some point Vincent finds a horrifying drawing of Quincy killing him, and Bea is like you obviously drew that look at it it's in your style. and he can't remember drawing it but not that he looks around he sees he's actually been drawing little pieces of it everywhere

Beatrix's apology

*giant overwrought Beatrix speech here*

V: (trying to be normal about it) i uh i did try to kill you

B: (also playing cool) yeah sure, so did my dad, join the club 

V: sorry?

B: the point is, lin, you were having an episode, and instead of helping you see that i pretty much handed you a bat, spun you around a couple times, and sent you on your merry way 

(shaky breath, beat- V feels weird about being described so passively)

Anecdote I wrote last year that I genuinely don't understand anymore OTL

Vincent likes to read possibly?

B: you can read?!

V: (swallows a lump… then sarcastically) oh yeah quincy finally taught me how

(^^^ realize they always bitch at each other by default - he wonders if she would be nicer if he was nicer but probably not)

^^^^^ the book sucks anyway shes like ok go to the bookstore CUE QUINCY

(“ok read your own fucking book” “i can’t” “why” “i burned them”)

AN: like QUINCY WOULD NOT FUCKING SAY THAT jdslkfjdsf who is that what's happening what's going ON

...I think it's Beatrix actually? idk man idk

but OMG im suddenly obsessed with the idea that this is all a bunch of absolutely insane buildup to an exes-to-lovers vincent coffee shop / quincy bookstore au dlskfjdslkfjdslkjfsjfjdsklfsdf

BONUS NOTES

V’s lack of empathy - i think he cant understand other peoples feelings very well? He definitely at the least has to imagine them through incidents in his own life to picture how they feel 

People pleasing … & possibly its conflict with the above 

Bring back suave vincent :(  (AN: I failed)

Masculinity problems…? 

Realization that all of his rapports (ie with ambrose and beatrix) are facetious and aggressive. And also baggage with quincy accidentally dissing him all the time. Who will be nice to him :( 

Maybe this: 

V: "i think i might be autistic"

B: "i dont think youre autistic i think youre a sociopath"

V: "i think i might be both"

^^^^ except thats also pretty anachronistic and kind of silly but i do what i want

ambrose ghost was a representation of his hyperfixation on murder (AN: absolutely insane take. what the fuck)

he probably gets lost in drawing now if he can stomach doing anything

accidental psychiatrist beatrix bc shes really good at cracking people open 

themes:

breakup 

realization that quincy didnt value him while he was innocent which fucked the relationship but V has trouble justifying it bc now he cant value himself 

difficulty feeling remorse for what he did 

→ realize you arent accountable for how you feel just for what you do 

can you love someone without empathy? (yes)

(stems from asking if q was ever in danger of murder -- obviously not!)

realization that v is actually good at something (art) 

Respectability politics - beatrix is trying to make girls/latinas look good. vincent is still in the headspace that hes inferior but starts to think about how frosh vinc would have felt about him now (AN i dont know what i meant by this ldjsf)

becoming ambrose was in a way his idea of proving himself in the world. being gnc and failing his classes was just bc he couldnt "do better" 

RECURRING: pulls open his eyelids and tries to see into his brain through the hole 

addiction (AN: thats it thats all i said its the word "addiction" sljdkfdslkf. I can only assume because for a while i had an interpretation of vincent as becoming an adrenaline junkie after his first murder - plus then bea got him addicted to cigs and murder)

other char breakthroughs 

Bea - yo vincent actually did some fucked up shit

Quincy - living with yourself. realizing you can never reconcile with some people. 

Portia - hold on… Bea actually did some fucked up shit...

(sorry this is MASSIVE i thought it would be like 7 bullets)

AND ON THAT NOTE.... Yeah that's what the fic was going to be about. Hope that was fun??? And shoutout to @ceaslesswatcherwhatistboyswag for asking about the abandoned fic and inadvertently prompting this whole post :P

Also. by god please do not take any of this as canon or word of god (except perhaps the newspaper thing...) i beg of you... these are just the post-show ramblings of a man newly deprived of the ability to spend 5 hours a week pretending to be a fruity little murderer. very fun diving back into that time to compile this though 🫀

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Best Place To Be

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Actor, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Jerry Schilling, Dr 

Word Count: 2660  // Rating: Mature

Summary: Tours are well oiled machines but what happens when there’s a spanner in the works

Tags/ Warnings: Request, Requested Fic, Kisses, Established Relationship, 70s Elvis, Elvis on Tour, Tour Schedule, Ill Health, Abdominal Pain, Fever, Nausea, Vomiting, Hospitals, Planes, Fear, Arguing, Angst, Love

Notes: hope whoever requested this likes it. also if you ask me something the surgical nurse in me will always go to something surgical. I have no apologies. 

Elvis Tags:  @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996

Request from anon:  Could you do one where the reader isn't feeling well but doesn't tell Elvis and she faints?

‘Our only duties, as far as I could gather. Our only duties, our only-’ I mumbled, trying to get the words on the page in front of me to stick in my head though I wasn't having much luck. The book in front of me had been laying in my lap for the past twenty minutes but I had barely made it through two sentences as every time I did a familiar wave of pain flowed through my abdomen making the words melt from my brain. I was sitting in the dressing room, trying to ignore the hubbub that came with the preshow, and trying to distract myself from the pain I had been having on and off all day.

I didn't have time to be ill. Ten cities in ten days meant that for the foreseeable future, my life was a blur of cars, planes, hotel rooms and show venues and though I wasn't working I was still expected to be part of the team. To show up, grin and bear it until we were safely back in Memphis and I could have time to slow down. It wasn't that I didn't want to know what was wrong. I just didn't want to cause problems. When it came to Elvis the goal was clear. Keep him well, keep him working. With me? Who knows. I could be shipped off to a hospital in a state I didn't know or forced to go back to Memphis. I didn’t want that. Or worse. Elvis would insist the tour be rejigged, which meant I’d be receiving the Colonel’s wrath. No, I knew what I needed to do. Hang on and wait it out.

But it was hard, especially as another wave of pain flowed through me bringing with it a round of nausea that made me feel as though I was going to hurl even though I knew full well there was nothing left in me to throw up. I clutched my stomach and closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ordeal going on inside me.

'You falling asleep on me?’ came a familiar velvety voice which made my eyes snap open. Elvis had come out of the bathroom and was giving himself a final once over before he had to head to the stage. As he fiddled with the cuffs on his suit he watched me in the mirror awaiting my response. ’M'tired,’ I said. It technically wasn't a lie. I was exhausted. Whilst he’d slept soundly on the plane I’d been tossing and turning, unable to get into any position that seemed comfortable. Throw in a day of driving, prepping and general busyness I wasn’t the most spritely. Elvis moved towards the couch I was sitting on and captured my chin with his fingers, tilting my face upwards as he leaned down and kissed me. 'Well don’t be calling it a night just yet,’ he smirked, pulling back, 'you know I love it when you’re watching.'

I nodded and smiled though I could feel uneasiness building inside me. That was the other problem. Though I wasn’t officially a member of the crew I did have a role. I was an unofficial mascot. Someone he needed to get him through the touring schedule. He liked having me by his side, watching every single show and being honest with him about it. I calmed his pre-show jitters and helped him ride his post-show highs but the thought of doing that tonight seemed like a mammoth one. I was comfortable sitting on this dingy little couch in the dressing room and I wasn’t sure how well I’d fare standing at the side of the stage amidst the heat and the noise. Elvis didn't notice my reluctance as he moved to check his hair out in the mirror, in fact, he didn’t have much chance to do anything as there was a knock at the door and Charlie appeared.

'Ready to go boss?’ he asked. Elvis turned and nodded, walking towards me and holding out a hand to help me up from the couch which I did so with as little wincing as possible. He didn't let go of my hand until we were out of the dressing room but before he did he brought it to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. Then he was lost to the flurry of the crowd. I filtered back allowing his entourage to walk with him, firing questions at him as they walked in step. I could feel myself shrinking backwards, trying to ignore the dull ache in my stomach which twinged with every step. The coolness of the stadium’s corridors was a welcome relief to the warmth I was now feeling in my cheeks from exerting myself just a little but that quickly fizzled away as we walked out into the auditorium and I felt the Phoenix heat melded with the warmth from the stage lights and the thousands of bodies crammed inside waiting with eager excitement.

As the sound of CC Rider echoed out the crowd started to cheer and Elvis limbered up, taking to the stage to rapturous applause. I watched him go, feeling the same awe and pride I felt every night even though I had seen the show a thousand times before. Yet that feeling was only fleeting thought as my discomfort returned almost immediately. I moved myself to a secluded corner, resting against trunks that held equipment in order to keep myself upright. That wooziness from before was present again but I kept myself focused, watching Elvis as he moved around the stage entertaining his fans. I don’t know how long I managed to stand there, focused on the show before another wave of pain hit.

'Are you okay?’ Jerry said as he appeared at my side. As I turned my head to look at him my vision faltered, blurring his face in front of me before it focused back in sync. 'I’m fine,’ I said. 'You don’t look good,’ he said. I moved to wave him off but as I took my hand off the trunk I stumbled, not having realised how tightly I had been gripping it to keep myself upright. Jerry’s hand caught my elbow steadying me. 'Okay you need to sit down,’ he said. I could feel his grip tight against my elbow as he waved to one of the roadies for some help. ’M'fine,’ I said, though my voice sounded as if I was hearing it from underwater. My vision blurred again accompanied by ringing in my ears as I felt a searing pain ripple through my abdomen.

And then nothing.

As I came to I could feel myself being gently deposited down onto a soft surface and I cracked open my eyes to find Jerry watching me with concern as he placed me on the dressing room couch. He moved out of the way, though he perched on the arm beside me as Dr Nick appeared in his place.

'That was some drop,’ he said as he gestured for me to offer him my arm, which I did obediently. 'What happened?’ I asked. 'You went white as a sheet and then hit the deck. Scared the crap out of me,’ Jerry said with a frown. 'Sorry,’ I mumbled sheepishly. 'Your blood pressures down a bit,’ Dr Nick said as he took the cuff off my arm. 'I’m fine honestly,’ I said, attempting to sit up though it was done with a wince as I felt searing pain. Jerry and Dr Nick pushed me back down gently. 'Have you got pain?’ Dr Nick asked. 'A little,’ I said, though he looked at me skeptically, 'okay a lot.’ 'Since when?’ he asked. 'Last night,’ I said. 'Where?’ he said, his hand following mine as I placed it gently on my right side. 'Does that hurt?’ he asked, pressing sharply on my side, making tears sting my eyes. 'Yeah,’ I said, trying to breathe as steadily as I could. 'Any nausea or vomiting?’ he asked. 'A little of both,’ I said, 'but I haven't eaten anything today so the nausea isn’t that bad.’ 'That’s not exactly a plus,’ Jerry said. 'Any fevers?’ Dr Nick said. 'I don’t think so,’ I said watching his face closely as he frowned, 'why what is it?' 'I think-’

'Where is she?’ I heard Elvis’ voice say panicked. He burst in, followed by several guys offering protestations but he wasn’t listening to them. His face was frantic as he came in quickly kneeling by my side as he placed a hand tenderly on my cheek. 'Are you okay?’ he asked, worry in his big blue eyes. 'I’m fine,’ I said though he only took that in for a millisecond before he was looking for a second opinion. He glanced at Jerry who shrugged and then at Dr Nick, 'what’s the matter, Dr Nick?' 'Well it could be a couple of things,’ he said, 'I wouldn’t want to say for definite but she’s got pain and vomiting-’ 'They said you passed out,’ Elvis said quickly. 'It was nothing,’ I said as Dr Nick continued, betraying my denials as he said, 'she did but I think that was more due to her being weak from not eating today.’ 'You’ve not eaten anything today?’ Elvis said. I could see the cogs whirring in his mind as he tried to think about every moment we had spent together and whether or not he recalled what I had consumed. He’d been bleary-eyed this morning at breakfast drinking his coffee and reading his paper whilst I pushed pancakes around my plate. And lunch was on the go as always, easy to hide if needs be. 'Didn’t feel up to it,’ I said. He seemed to take my answer on board but there was something behind his eyes that I didn't like. Anger.

'So what doc?’ he said turning to look at the older man who shrugged. 'Like I said I wouldn’t want to say for sure without tests but that would mean going to the hospital,’ he said. 'Then that’s where we’re going,’ Elvis said matter of factly. 'But we’ve gotta leave and the tour-’ I started to protest. 'Will wait,’ he said looking pointedly at me before he stood up. I could feel the shift in his mode. He was the boss now, looking at the guys who were lingering by the door, 'get a car to take us to the hospital and call ahead. I want a room sorted for when we get there.’ 'What about Dallas?’ Vernon asked with concern. 'Keep it on the books for now. Have the plane on standby so it’s ready if we can make it,’ he said, 'and let the Colonel know.’ 'He’s not gonna be happy about it,’ Vernon said. 'I don’t give a rat’s ass what he’s happy about,’ Elvis said. Vernon nodded and scuttled out the door. A few of the boys lingered too making him glare at them, 'haven’t y'all got things to be doing?'

There was a murmur of agreement as he looked down at me that feeling of disappointment not waning though it softened a little as I felt a pain flow through me again and moved to clutch my stomach. He turned away, mumbling, 'Isn’t there something you can give her?'

'Yes, yes,’ Dr Nick said turning to his bag of tricks and rummaging around in it until he produced a vial of something and started drawing it up. I glanced at Jerry, the only one who hadn’t left and he smiled at me for a moment though it was pulled away from me as Elvis said, 'Jer.'

I watched Jerry jump up obediently and go to his boss. They talked in low whispers for a moment before Jerry clapped him on the back and headed out the door offering me one more smile as he did. As he left Elvis turned around and came and sat on the coffee table beside the couch watching as Dr Nick finished up what he was doing. The pain was eased now, whatever he had given me working instantly though it hadn’t done much for the nausea.

'I’ll ring ahead to the hospital,’ Dr Nick said, 'hopefully we can get some scans arranged for as soon as we get there.’ 'Thanks, Doc,’ Elvis said glancing towards the door. Dr Nick followed his gaze and then nodded subtly. 'Right, I er, I’ll leave you to it. Not too long though. The sooner we get her there the better,’ he said. 'Right, right,’ Elvis said. I watched him as he watched Dr Nick leave the room. Then his gaze fell on me. There was an ounce of compassion behind his gorgeous blue eyes but I could see the tension he was holding in his jaw and it was enough to make me feel like I was a naughty schoolgirl.

'E,’ I mumbled trying to get out words even though I didn’t have a plan for what I was going to say. 'Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked. 'What?’ I said feeling whatever I was going to say suddenly not compatible as a response. 'You didn’t tell me,’ he said, 'you’re in this much pain. Hardly eaten anything, heading for hospital and I’m the last to know.’ 'You had a show,’ I said. 'When did it start?’ he asked pointedly. 'E,’ I said guiltily. 'When did it start? Because I can bet it wasn’t when you were at the side of the stage,’ he said. I looked at him for a moment and then looked away feeling enormously guilty.

'Last night,’ I admitted. Elvis scoffed. 'So you did have time to tell me,’ he said shaking his head. 'When?’ I said, 'we had places to be. Venues, cars, hotels, planes. There was never a right time and I didn’t think it was that serious-’ 'But you didn’t know that!’ he said his voice louder than intended, 'you could’ve…I could've lost… you don’t know what it is. You can't take risks with your health baby.’ 'Elvis,’ I said sadly. I could see the anguish in his eyes as he said it, catching himself on the idea of losing me. He was always so protective over those that he loved, especially when it came to their health. Losing his mother so young made him careful. I had just been so focused on making sure I was doing the best thing for him I hadn’t thought about what he would actually want.

'Honey…you need me to tell about this stuff. No matter what,’ he said. 'What about your tour? I mean we’re going to be at least three hours behind and that’s if they can figure out what it is right away and the Colonel’s gonna hit the roof-’ 'I don’t care about that,’ Elvis said coming to kneel beside the couch and placing his hand on my cheek. 'But-’ 'I. Don’t. Care,’ he said watching me closely. I hesitated for a moment taking in his look of concern and allowing it to soothe me just a tad. 'Good,’ I giggled, making him watch me with amused concern until I explained, 'you can be my buffer from when he shows up shouting the odds.' 'You think I want to incur his wrath?’ he chuckled his anger and frustration disappearing, 'ain’t having no one in that room except medical professionals.’ 'Not even you?’ I asked quirking an eyebrow. 'I’m the exception,’ he said as he helped me sit up. There was a dull ache inside me now though it was nothing as it had been before. 'Maybe we can play doctors and nurses,’ I giggled as he pulled me up to standing where I clung to his side. 'That sounds like a plan,’ he said leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head. I didn’t feel 100% right but beside him was the best place to be.

[romanarose]

Ive seen TF boys on your page and I wanted to know you thoughts on how the moonboys would comfort and help a bulimic reader?

Hi love! Happy to give you come HC's for this <3

My inbox is currently closed as im working through old requests/ working on writing fics, but I wanted to do this one bc its a very important subject to my heart, with how bad my bulimia permanently destroyed my disgestive system and teeth

Moon Boys with a Bulimic reader

Warnings: Bulimia, vomit, food restriction, binging and purging NSFW refernces (bc its jake)

Steven Grant

He had to stay late tonight at work, some of his students were a little lost on the subject matter, so he held a study session before finals to allow everyone a chance to clarify. He had felt bad for missing dinner, of course, but he brought cake back as an apology

When you didn't answer, he saw the bathroom door was closed, and just figured you were in there bathing as you often did after diner

when he comes to the door to say hello and let you know there's cake, he hears you crying, and quickly opens the door, knowing your history with mental health problems and worrying you hurt yourself or were going to. He saw you crying against the wall, not even looking at him, and saw remnants of throw up in the toilet that hadn't all gone down with the first flush, he initially thought you were sick

"oh darling, here, let's get you to bed. Is it your stomach-" He paused as he saw your hand, red and scratched knuckles covered in throw up. Oh.

"I'm sorry" you cry "I'm fucking gross"

"No, no darling, you're not, here" Steven gets a wet towel and gently cleans your face and hands, as well as any mess you might have made. He washed his hands, then went to scoop you up. "C'mere love, lets rest, yeah?" And carried you over to the bed, not mentioning the cake he brought. Laying you down with a blanket and your favorite stuffed animal, he brought you water and asked you to drink it, knowing how purges dehydrate. He had read every book he could find on eating disorders, the health effects and treatment. He knew your addictive personality made things worse, harder to break out of habits.

"How long had this been going on again?" he asked

"Today was the first relapse" you answered, but he gave you a look like he didn't believe you "I swear! That's why I was crying... all the progress went to waste" You lip quivers trying to get the last few words out

Steven sits down with you, holding you tight, assuring you that this didn't detract from your progress, that progress isn't linear, and you are still his strong, beautiful girl.

He holds you tight that night, they two of you whispering with the sheets pulled over your head like children staying up too late at a sleep over, whispering about how much you loved each other

Will keep a careful eye on you, and definitely takes over the cooking to make you nutritious food, oh you want to help! Even better, love

Marc Spector

When you first approached Marc about going to the gym with him, he was elated! He was so excited about showing you around, teaching you how to use equipment, and of course spending more time with you!

So you started going with him every time he went, he even bought you cute workout clothes. That might have been a bit selfish on his part. He like checking you out, and he liked the way men stared at you, until they realized you were with him. The caveman part of his brain loved posturing, and he especially loved how you only ever had eyes for him, no matter the stronger, fitter men and women there.

Then you got really into it. Marc thought this was a bit odd, but was happy to spend the time training you.

First warning sign was when you started drinking protein shakes in lieu of breakfast. Not the end of the world, you were never a huge breakfast person. But when you stopped eating lunch in favor of the shakes, he confronted you. You insisted they were just easier, and tasted so good, you just preferred it.

Then there was the day he had to take you home early from the gym because you weighed yourself and found you hadn't lost weight, and you began crying, no matter how much he tried to explain that you were gaining muscle, which is denser than fat, and he was so proud of you for how much you could lift now!

You stuck to the treadmill and elliptical from then on, which Marc hated. He'd run with you for a bit, but then opted to do weights. although he stayed nearby in case anyone caused you problems, he missed working with you. He couldn't even really focus, watching you strain yourself and look miserable

The last straw was when he went to bring you water, and you refused to stop or slow down. In the middle of a argument while you ran, he watched your eyes go blank. Thinking quickly, he pressed the emergency button and caught you as you fell, the treadmill only managed to give a few rug burns on your legs and knees.

When you came to in his arms, you were greeted by his angelic face insisting you drink the water he had. He spoke soft, but obviously very distressed. He asked you how long it had been since you'd eaten. The frown on his face was deep as you watched his eyes start to tear up.

"Don't cry, please" you ask.

"You really scared me" He smiled at you.

Marc drove you insane after that. "did you eat today?" "what did you have?" "did you eat all of it?" this man did not know the meaning of sublty

He babied, and I mean babied the shit out of you

Fucker wouldn't even let you ride him

You gotta sit this man down and tell him to knock it off or you're gonna scream

You make a deal. You start going to counseling, he has to start taking you to the gym again (he wouldn't let you go alone, that's fir sure)

He agrees. You focus back on the weights, less on weight loss. (marc took the scale out of the house. You may or may no have found it shattered in the dumpster when you took the trash out. Marc has beef with all scales now.)

You enjoy the weights, you enjoy feeling strong, and you definitely enjoy using it to bring out Marc’s subby side

Jake Lockley

It's hard not to feel sexy with this man

The pet names and compliments are none stop. You've began to wonder if he forgot your actual name.

During sex, he takes the term body worship to a new level. This man's mouth and hands are e v e r y w h e r e

Why are his hand's all over your arms? Why is he kissing your calves when he's got your feet over his shoulders? Why does he suck hickies between your thighs? Why does he bite and squeeze your hip dip? you'll never know, but you love it

But you and him both know that sometimes, eating problems aren't about body image, but about control, and compulsions. And a little bit of body image because fuck, who doesn't struggle with that sometimes?

When he sees the warning signs, you hiding your body from him, not wanting to eat with him, generally being distant again, he always asks. He doesn't come on as intense as Marc with his protectiveness, but he will mentally keep track of your eating, and try to coax you into eating something if he see's you sipping meals. He has deficiently taken your car keys once, not because he was trying to keep you home, but because he didn't think you were safe to drive the busy streets.

Buys you literally anything he thinks might help. If its not about your body necessarily, he'll get you whatever you think might help you feel in control. Wanna craft? He'll build you a shelf and buy you all the fucking yarn in the world. Wana have a lil world you can control? Every sims pack you can imagine. Cat? Plants? A lizard? Fuck it, yeah, he'll buy you a lizard. Coolest lizard ever. He'll take lil charizard on a walk with you if thats what you want

All the boys

You're getting vitamins

And water!!! If you're throwing up, you're going to at least stay hydrated.

Bathroom lock is either taken out, or there's a spare key. Not out of control, no, they know you'll find a way to do it if you really want to, but in case of emergency

Will encourage therapy and medication, if you think it's right for you, maybe at least to try for a bit?

Never, ever, shame you for how you feel or act. You can tell them if you are having urges, need a distraction.

Steven and Jake make sure to keep Marc's protective nature in check, to make sure you aren't deterred from talking to them.

constantly shower you in praise and love and compliments

Always always always tell you how proud they are of you, even if you relapse, bc look how well you were doing! That means you can absolutely do it again!

I hope this was nice! I really love these 3 and I feel they would all be so supportive (even if marc might be a lil much sometimes XD It's okay, we love him <3 )

not tagging anyone today, but please be sure to comment/reblog if you liked this!

[according2thelore]

thank you so much for the tag in that post!!! i immediately forgot every fact about myself unfortunately BUT i have two follow up qs for y'all.........

MERLIN! i am also obsessed with merlin and btw if you have a merlin account you are OBLIGATED BY LAW to tell me. constitutional amendment from the obama era. i think the merlin <--> supernatural pathway is all about duty by the way. and also gay sex.

also charlotte consider this ask your one drink please 🍷 and DO TELL!

haha, that's so fair! we love follow-up qs!

lizzy:

uh-oh! by law you say?? i'm sweatin'...i also love merlin! so much! i cannot shut up about it, and i have written/continue to write for merlin under a different account...but i fear i might have to break the law on this one. and it's strictly for the reason that i have Very Normal friends not familiar with fandom that follow my writing/keep up with my other ao3 and if they find out i shake the boys from spn between my teeth like a dog, i would have some massive explaining to do. obama's gonna come break my door down 😔 i am kissing you passionately in apology! but i think folks like my merlin work pretty okay! my biggest merlin fic is around 100k hits, which blows my mind with violence each day lol

you get it!!! you get it so hard!!!!!! what drives me crazy about merlin and spn is the inevitability of it all. they are soulmates, and they are fated to be joined, but at what cost? literally what cost? they are opposed forces, hunter and hunted, but a bond of love and forgiveness and belonging that keep them tethered beyond separation. it's the continuous loss and torture and fear and not leaving! they don't want to leave! their lives would be easier if they didn't love each other, but they can't stop. and they HAVE SEX! one of the things that sticks in my brain so hard about merlin specifically is the lengths that merlin goes to protect/save uther for arthur's sake. like that level of devotion, even at the betrayal of self, is BARK INDUCING!!! i could write forever and ever amen about merlin, so if i don't stop now, this entire post will just be me yapping and yapping.

charlotte:

oh my god WELL a few moments stand out from that day. first, lizzy and I were THE ONLY ONES TO DRESS UP after lizzy explained that people dressed up at cons (this was my first con ever—baby’s first!). Also me when I lie lol there were a couple sexy castiels but I digress. (lizzy note: there was also a billie and death cosplayer that blew my fucking mind my beloved <3)

second, literally everyone at our con had already met the boys. like. a girl pulled out a BINDER with like 4 m&g photos per page and just kept flipping through it. so while we were nervous wrecks all day, everyone was mysteriously so…chill?? like we picked up food on the way there and barely ate any of it since we were making ourselves ill.

waiting in line?? girl embarrassing you wouldn’t have wanted to see us because we were HYPERVENTILATING. as soon as we cleared the doorway and saw jared, he made eye contact with us and kept glancing over the line to check when we were coming up (because of our slay niche fits) and as soon as we did, he said the episode BY NAME and told us we did a great job. (lizzy note: he was very excited and also his hand is as big is my waist i blacked out the whole thing if i didn’t have a pic i wouldn’t think it happened)

that man’s chest and arms. gigantic. bigger than my head. he was as solid as a piece of marble. we were like what the fuck. took our picture and NO JOKE we had to sit down on the floor in the hallway. we called lizzy’s mom. we bragged to the barista in the convention center, who was also very excited. we vomited and threw up because misha was next but in character and costume and let me just say

that man’s hands were FRIGID.

I’ll say it!! (looking at you lizzy who doesn’t remember it smh.) his m&g was slay ish because he was just smoldering and barely said anything (LMAO our man was tired and they were running 2 hrs behind). but! hilarious. I have both of the pictures hanging in identical frames next to each other in my first grown up apartment and it looks like the same photo at a first glance. it is the second most expensive thing on my wall (my diploma taking first 🤧).

and that…that was a glorious day. we’re trying to go again since jensen was sold out so we can complete the trifecta 🫶

-charlotte (& lizzy! hello! 2-for-1!)

[eorzean-capitalist]

Hypergraphia.

I've been on a journey since Nov. 1st. A wild one.

I decided this year to do NaNoWriMo again. I've completed it two other times, albeit a very long time ago. 2001 and 2003. I've tried a few other times, but never successfully and it's been a very long time since I've thought about trying again.

But hey, I've been off antipsychotics for 6 months now. I figure I can write again. Maybe sustain enough of a momentum to cross the finish line again.

If I knew then what I know now, I may have decided not to. Maybe I would have anyway. Hard to say.

I did some prepwork. Decided I wanted to write a ghost story about a house haunted by the ghost of a disabled girl, killed by her father in the 1940s. I was calling it Astrid's Attic. Made a basic outline. Created and fleshed out some characters.

But then Nov 1st rolled around and I found myself staring at a blank google doc with no idea how to kick it off.

I had music on. A Skid Row song I used to like back in the early 90s was the next track. And I dunno. It was like lightning struck. A memory from my childhood roared back to life and the words jumped onto the page.

Only it wasn't Astrid's Attic. All that prep work, the outline, the idea of it, just vanished as I drew from ancient memories of a 14 year old in the early throes of mental illness and the storm of adolescence.

I'd started this strange world of psychics and secret societies. And a fake rock band was my vehicle at the time to tell the tale. The characters were an amalgamation of the bands I listened to at the time. Rock and metal from the 1989-1991 era.

But this time, I wasn't 14 and struggling to find the right words to convey the thoughts in my brain. I wasn't writing with pen and paper, filling notebook after notebook with whatever my brain was vomiting up with the limited vocabulary and writing skills I had at the time.

Now I'm several decades older, I type something ridiculous like 160 words a minute, and I know how to craft a narrative.

So 12 days later.... I'm over the finish line and my brain is not done. Oh no. By the end of November, I dropped everything into a word calculator. Over 200k words. The main story doc itself, and miles of notes and brainstorming I did over the month as I worked out the details.

Hypergraphia is a weird thing. A blessing and a curse. Because since embarking on this journey, I can't do anything else. I can't think of anything else. My days are either spent writing, or thinking about writing.

I could put a stop to this. I've already told my therapist what's going on and we're trying to figure out how to contain it. Direct it. But it's really gd hard. I could go back on a low dose of antipsychotic.

But I don't really want to. At least, not till the boys' story is finally told. The demon sleeping in my memory since 14 finally exorcised.

I think I owe younger me that much, at least.

[shion-yu]

Day 6: Dizziness/Vertigo

Cliff and Elliot again, being angsty and mushy in love newlyweds. 1,769, CW mentioned vomit/clean up. It has a slightly abrupt end but I was like, I either end it here or write 5 more pages of dialogue, lol. @sicktember

Shortly after Cliff and Elliot finally had their wedding, Cliff began having terrible migraines. They had been a problem for a long time, but they increased dramatically in frequency that fall. They worried, of course, that Cliff was having a relapse of sarcoidosis or it was permanent damage from the coma, but his brain scans kept coming back negative. It could just be stress, the doctors said. Try to take it as easy as possible.

Cliff felt as if he'd been taking it easy forever, though. When he married Elliot, he’d wanted to contribute to their life together, and that meant working. Elliot made plenty for the both of them to live comfortably on, but that wasn't the point. The point was Cliff wanted to be useful in their partnership, and he hated feeling like he couldn’t be. He tried working part time as a receptionist at a hotel for a while, but they soon let him go after realizing how many sick days he needed to call out. Cliff didn't blame them, but it stung. It felt like another failure, like dropping out of law school.

Pushing himself was an equally terrible option though. The migraines not only left him feeling sick, but they sometimes triggered seizures too. The seizures were horrible, and Cliff was frankly terrified of them. They gave him a feeing of impending doom, and then he’d lose all control of his body. Afterwards he’d panic, disoriented and unable to form words as he desperately grasped at whomever was around him. His lungs would hurt from the way his body had forced all of his air out of them and the tiredness and pain in his entire being was overwhelming. 

He hated living like this. But what other choice did he have?

At least he had Elliot, but at the same time Cliff loathed to be entirely dependent on his husband. Elliot was preparing to go on tour in January, and Cliff didn't want to hold him back. He deserved to go out and be brilliant as he was meant to be. Elliot had already suggested Cliff live with Shu, or Elliot’s parents, while he was gone. Cliff brushed him off and told him he'd be fine, even though he silently worried he wouldn't be. What if he had a seizure and he couldn't get help, he worried? What if he was too sick to get himself out of bed? There were so many what ifs to obsess over when Cliff permitted himself to. 

Things changed so quickly there was no real way to prepare for them. That was the scary part. Like today, Cliff woke up with a horrible migraine. As usual he immediately feared it might trigger a seizure, but Elliot was doing a promo with Vogue today and there was no way Cliff could call and interrupt. He had the phone number of several back up people: the home health nurse was technically the best option, but Cliff always felt like a bother when he called. Ryo, Alex, Shu, Matt, Elliot’s parents, and even his own father were all people he could trust to get help too, but he wanted to bother them even less than the nurse.

So instead, Cliff simply hoped it would go away. He crushed up his migraine medication and pushed it through his tube, then hooked himself up to a continuous feed of water for the hydration. Rest was all he could do then and he lay in total darkness in bed, trying to sleep and swallowing down waves of nausea. The vertigo was especially bad this time, and Cliff felt as if the bed were a boat bobbing on an angry sea. 

Around lunch time Elliot called him. The sound of his phone ringing pierced Cliff’s brain like jagged daggers scraping themselves over flesh. He struggled to make it to the edge of the bed and threw up into the trash can, hoping blindly that his aim was decent enough not to leave sick all over the rug. His phone went to voicemail; Cliff hadn't managed to pick it up on time. He fumbled to call Elliot back, squinting at the phone screen which seemed painfully bright. He couldn't read any of the words right now, his vision blurry with tears, but he managed to find the button to return the call. The phone rang but there was no answer. Elliot must have gone back to work, Cliff thought. It was okay. Really, it was better this way because he knew Elliot would worry and race home if he knew Cliff was feeling so sick and Cliff didn’t think he would have been able to hide it in his voice. It was why he hadn’t tried harder to answer on time.

So he held on, fighting bursts of nausea as the world spun around him at breakneck speed. At some point Cliff had to pee and stumbled to the bathroom, gripping onto anything he could reach for dear life. He managed to relieve himself, eyes mostly closed, and was washing his hands when time seemed to stop. Confused, Cliff opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. The water running over his fingers wasn't moving, as if frozen. He blinked, and then time hurried to catch up to the present just like a VHS on fast forward. 

He didn't know how he ended up on the floor, it happened so quickly. Cliff stared at the ceiling, dazed, head throbbing. He'd never noticed how uneven it was, the outdated popcorn ceiling the landlord had put in. It hid the fact that it sloped downwards right where the door was. He closed his eyes. Elliot would be home soon - or at least eventually. Cliff didn't know when, but he didn't have the energy to get up. And so he lay there, half asleep and shivering, swallowing down mouthfuls of nausea, until he finally heard the front door open. 

“Cliff? I’m home.” 

It had to have been hours later, although maybe it was only minutes. He opened his mouth to call for help. “Elliot?” Instead of a cry, it came out a whisper. He could hear Elliot opening doors, looking for him. “I’m here,” he tried again, but the sound didn't leave the room. It felt like another hour before Elliot finally found him.

“Cliff!” Elliot was suddenly kneeling at his side, a look of panic and horror on his face. Cliff realized at some point he must have vomited again, as Elliot grabbed the hand towel off the rack and quickly wiped up a patch of sick on the floor so he didn't sit in it. “What happened, baby? I’m here,” Elliot was saying. He already had that desperate, teary eyed look that filled Cliff with guilt.

“I don't know,” Cliff said weakly. “I think I fainted.” He jammed his eyes shut again, this time because Elliot was quickly multiplying into two, then four, then eight copies of himself. 

“God, why didn't you call?” Elliot asked, his hands all over Cliff trying to assess the situation. “I should've known when you didn't text me back, I’m so stupid...”

“Don't say that. You're not stupid,” Cliff mumbled. “El? I’m so dizzy.” 

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

Cliff’s eyes flew open and he grabbed Elliot’s forearm to stop him. “Don’t. Please, don’t. I’m just dizzy. And probably dehydrated. Just help me get back in bed. Please?”

Elliot bit his lip, trying to judge whether Cliff was telling the truth. It wasn’t as if Cliff hadn’t fainted before. Throwing up wasn’t that irregular of an occurrence, either. But it was more about how he had found Cliff: in such a scary, startling position on the floor. The amount Cliff was speaking - and making sense - was the only thing reassuring him at the moment.

“El?”

“I’ll make up my mind in a few minutes. Let’s get you in bed,” Elliot sighed. They both knew then that unless Cliff suddenly passed out again that he had won - but getting back in bed without incident was a small test in itself. 

Cliff let Elliot basically lug him to his feet then half carry him back to the bedroom, where Cliff realized he, in fact, had not aimed perfectly earlier. “Sorry,” he said. “I had my eyes closed.”

Elliot shook his head and helped Cliff around the mess and onto the mattress. “It’s okay.” He eased Cliff onto the pillows and brushed his sweaty hair from his eyes. “You don’t have a fever.”

“I know. It’s just a migraine. A bad one,” Cliff said. Elliot went to the bathroom and came back with two more washcloths - one to start cleaning the floor with and one for Cliff’s face. “How was the interview?”

“What?” Elliot asked, concentrating on cleaning the floor now. 

“Vogue. How was it?”

Elliot paused, looked up from his position on the floor, and suddenly laughed. “I already forgot about it. It was great,” he said, shaking his head. “Baby, you really scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Elliot said. “Are you still dizzy?”

Cliff stopped himself from nodding, because it would make that dizziness worse. “Yes,” he said. “Very. I’m sorry you went from Vogue to vomit on the floor.”

“Thus is marriage,” Elliot shrugged. He finished cleaning up, washed his hands in the bathroom and then returned to Cliff’s side. He stripped his clothes off down to his underwear and crawled into bed next to Cliff, wrapping his body around Cliff’s and resting his head on Cliff’s shoulder. “I’ll call the doctor in the morning,” he said quietly. He reached for Cliff’s hand and intertwined their fingers, closing his eyes. “I’m tired, Cliff. I wish I didn’t have to leave you. I worried all day.”

Cliff squeezed Elliot’s hand, guilt and affection mixed into one complex emotion that choked him up. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help it,” Elliot said.,

“I know. I’m still sorry,” Cliff said. Elliot nuzzled closer. Cliff rested his other hand in Elliot’s hair, rubbing and closing his eyes. “I love you. Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I care,” Elliot muttered. “But what will you do when I’m gone for months?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cliff said. He managed to sound more confident than he felt. “Maybe I’ll be doing better by then. Become a roadie. I’m still your biggest fan, you know?”

Elliot huffed out a quiet, exhausted laugh. “Shut up.”

Cliff smiled and kissed the top of Elliot’s head, smelling his sweaty, coconut-scented shampoo curls. “I love you,” he said. “And we will figure it out.”

“I know,” Elliot said. “We always do.” 

[bi-bats]

hello!! i was just wondering, since the damitim fic is ongoing, does this mean know yourself updates are slowed/paused? (not a complaint i’m loving both!!)

Hiya!! Sorry that I never give easy answers 😂

So yes, Know Yourself updates are slower (not paused or on hiatus!! I am working on it still), but it's not because of the DamiTim fic.

I've been writing Know Yourself for over a year now (even though I haven't been posting it that long) and I'm just struggling with getting the words on the page to be what I want them to be. The plot is sorted out and I'm content with what I'm going to make happen, but also when I think about the fic my brain starts to feel the way my eyes do when I stare at a screen too long 😂 so I'm trying to be patient with myself and let myself take my time with it instead of pushing something out that I'm really not happy with, because 1) I think it'll show, 2) I'll just burn myself out, and 3) if I treat it like a chore it'll never get finished.

Also I've realized (post-jaytimweek) that I prefer writing in present tense, it makes everything feel more natural to me and I can control some writing things like timing and flow a little better and I WROTE OVER 100K WORDS IN PAST TENSE FOR THAT FIC AND I'M NOT FUCKING SWITCHING NOW!!!! SO I GUESS I GOTTA FINISH IT IN PAST TENSE!!!!

And also we're at the point in the plot of Know Yourself where I'm really stepping on the gas on the number of things happening per chapter, and the chapters are overwhelmingly long. And I would love to simply be more brief, but everything happening is relevant to the plot, so. Sigh.

Now, the DamiTim fic.

That one is just going up because that fic is happening to me. I can't prevent that fic from occurring. I would love to think about something else, actually! That boy is so unwell! But that's what I'm feeling inspired about and lately I've only been able to write when something worms into my brain and I have to put it on the page immediately no matter where I am or what I'm doing (I have a newish manager who doesn't know how to write a schedule, so I'm currently on day 7 of a ten day stretch of work where I only had one day off, which I had to spend doing all my chores and then hosting D&D. So basically, gone are the days off where I could just sit at my computer and write for a day 😭😭😭).

Also, Ive been having problems with Know Yourself since May, but the DamiTim fic is just fucking pouring out of me fugue state style. My brain hasn't latched onto DamiTim and released Know Yourself in favor of it, it's that the claws of Know Yourself began to unsink from my flesh like, 2 months ago and DamiTim saw its chance. Like, this isn't about to be a cute analogy, but I feel like I'm vomiting out the DamiTim fic because it's a virus. It can't be in my brain anymore okay? I need it out. And it feels like a shame to have like, almost 40k words of it written and just sitting in my drafts when I could be updating it (which I'm sure you appreciate if you're loving that one too 😂), and it has the added benefit of yall knowing I haven't abandoned the fandom/preventing yall from thinking that something horrible has happened to me!

Tldr/to reiterate: yes I'm slowing down on Know Yourself, but it's not because of any of the other chaptered fics I'm working on.

Anyways, sorry this got long and ranty, I think I needed to vent all this out anyways so thank you for giving me a chance to do that!! And also thank you for phrasing your ask the way you did, I really appreciate you specifying that you're not complaining 😂 this is a valid question (that did not upset me but could've if the phrasing was different) and I didn't feel pressured so thank you!!! Ily anon 💕💖💚

[transitat]

Fic Tag Game

I was tagged by @beri-allen. Thanks!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 14

What's your Ao3 word count? 51 699

What fandoms do you write for? Currently only Wednesday, but I used to be really active in the Harry Potter fandom in middle/high school.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Biology Lessons 2. I Dig You (Up) 3. Read the Fine Print 4. Payback Is a Bitch 5. Window Shopping

Do you respond to comments? I did for a bit but I honestly don't know what to say other than "alkjsjdf thank ily" and I feel super awkward. I love you all and your comments make my days brighter <3.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Why would you ask me, a porn writer, this... I Dig You (Up), 100%.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I'm a porn writer, they all have ✨ happy endings ✨. I'd say Biology Lessons.

Do you get hate on fics? No hate so far, just one very very horny man who described what he did (in detail) while reading the fic. I deleted that comment after vomiting in my mouth a bit.

Do you write smut? What kind? Yes. And yes.

Do you write cross-overs? I've never been interested in crossovers. And I usually only fixate on one thing at a time.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No. Let me call my waifu real quick to see if she's interested in some translation work lol (we're both professional writers/translators)

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No. Hmu tho 👀 

What WIP you would like to finish, but doubt you ever will? I'll finish all of them... eventually. I will!

What's your all-time favorite ship? Let's go back to my roots: Wolfstar (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin) from Harry Potter. I've been in love with Remus since I was 9 and I love angsty relationships. I've had a thousand OTPs in my life, but they're my forever one.

What are your writing strengths? I will literally write 10k in one go.

What are your writing weaknesses? If I don't want to write, I will not write. I've literally stared at blank pages for months. But it's a cycle, I know I'll be back on my bullshit in no time.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Depends.

First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter, closely followed by The Mortal Instruments.

Favorite fic you've ever written? I'm so so happy with Stuck in the Middle with You. It was a literal 6k word vomit that came out fabulous. I have to say that Heaven's a Place on Earth with You (a short Attack on Titan thing I wrote like 10 years ago) has a special place in my heart.

What fic would you want to rewrite one day? Frankly, all of them. I'm impatient and publish first drafts and I think they deserve some reworking. They're fine for now but if I ever want these to become a portfolio, they'll need some serious editing. This might be the right time to confess that all my fics are written by a possessed author, reread for typos once then published as they are. Y'all are tapping directly into my brain here.

I've been out of order for so long idk what's been going on/who's done this already. I tag @suchaladyy, @nonamemanga, @cupoteahatter, and @wincestation

[panther-of-shadows]

I finished The Faithless (Magic of the Lost #2), and finally I'm saying here what I haven't before. I've been biting my tongue, expecting -and hoping- the book somehow would get better, that Touraine's toxic hypocritical attitude would get better in time. It didn't, it only got worse. And man, bite my head off if Luca doesn't deserve someone acknowledging everything she was, thought and did. Acknowledging her identity. She deserves better than fucking martyr-syndrome Touraine. Aranen told her near the end "you deserve better than her [Luca]" and no, ma'am. No, I can't shup my mouth anymore, because Aranen got it backwards.

I recognize a toxic, abusive relationship when I see one because I've lived through a couple of them myself; however, what I didn't expected in this context was for the slave soldier to get abusive with the princess of the empire that had colonized her country. And it breaks my heart that no one in these stupid books noticed the actual problem behind Touraine and Luca's "relationship". No matter what Luca's intentions are and neither what she does or does not, every action of hers is something suitable that Touraine can wield and does wield to attack her. Their relationship works like this: Touraine puts a weigh on her shoulders and then, looking twice, complains and gets irrationally mad about said weight as if she wasn't the one who placed it there, lashing out at Luca. It. Doesn't. Make. Sense.

I could point out a thousand different moments and evidence to argue my opinion, but I'm deeply tired of the same shit after so many pages. The thing is she stripped Luca of everything she used to have, leaving her with nothing but emptiness, misplaced guilt and sorrow, by making her feel responsible and holding her accountable for every event that has occurred since their first encounter until Luca wouldn't make a decision without Touraine's approval as her confidence evaporated into thin air. What's even sadder: Touraine isn't the only character treating Luca like she's the culprit of all evils - little reminder: her uncle has been on the throne for over 20 years now, and the proletarian people of Balladaire thought fit to blame the princess for their horrid situation so much they even sent a girl to murder, not the duke, but HER.

And this is how you break a person, from the inside, with blame, undervaluing and disregard as your tools. The worst part of it all is that it's not even written on purpose to put the focus on one real issue or to mess with the reader's moral compass (as Tamsyn Muir does in TLT, which is done with so much taste), it's fucking 'romanticized', it's presented as something supposed to be cute and adorable, something to aspire to, the culmination of love, and I just want to vomit your toxicity out of my brain, CL Clark.

Dear writers out there, if you're going to create a character to be a veiled victim in the name of "romantic love", just don't, let them be. They may be fictional, but they deserve better. We deserve better. It's not okay to be beaten emotionally over and over again in the name of love. It is not.

[distantlcnds]

new book, who dis? ft ari x isaac

warnings: none word count: 663

Ari squirmed in her seat, her fingers dancing rapidly over the keys before her. She could feel him moving, his silhouette in her peripherals though she kept her eyes on the screen. “Isaac?” He paused on the other side of her, head tilting as she cursed under her breath in something other than english. She didn’t feel his eyes on her though and she sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just– you read now?”

“What?” she blinked, brow furrowing despite the soft chuckle that escaped her, “I read. Maybe my choices are a little unorthodox but…” Ari trailed, waiting for the volley. The little back and forth where he or anyone really would chide her for being a dork. But instead she was met with silence, the sound of her game bleeding into the sound of flipping pages.

“Yeah. I’d say The Crying of Lot 49 is unorthodox for you,”

Ari felt her cheeks warm, pink no doubt staining them as she broke concentration, her character dying almost instantaneously. “Y-yeah. I found it at that little second hand shop. The one near the community center. I had some time after the halloween festival so I went, you know, browsing,” 

Again there was silence but this time she was watching him, thumbing through till he hit a spot and her heart seized. “Which one is she?” he asked, voice so casual you’d think they were discussing the weather. Ari’s back straightened, chest tight, scoffing as she turned back to the screen.

She reset, fingers back at it, despite him standing there. Waiting. She hated when he was like this. Like he was just…judging her. And for what? Reading? What did it matter why she’d sought it out? And that question. She knew what he meant. What was he expecting? A number? A name? Still. He was quiet, playing the game they knew she always lost. God, she hated losing.

“She’s– not any of them. She’s not part of that,”

“Then why highlight quotes in a book you’d never read?”

“Quote. A quote–” She waited for him to tell her nuisances didn’t matter. He didn’t have to. Her jaw flexed, swiveling in her chair again. She chewed her lip, wondering what exactly he wanted out of this conversation. It did tell her a few things though. Dickie hadn’t blabbed and that Isaac was genuinely curious. Any other time he’d be making some snarky joke and then they’d laugh. He’d move on and they’d pretend like whatever it was hadn’t happened. “She mentioned she was reading it. For class. The quote was interesting and I– I um, wanted to understand it better,” Ari shrugged, releasing the tension from his gaze with it. It was sincere. She had just…she wanted to know more about it, even if it was just some book she didn’t know if she loved. It wasn’t as if she ever gave her much to go on. Not about those sorts of things. Passing by that shop, seeing books in the window. It just– made her think of her. What harm was there in that? 

He watched her for a moment longer, like he had some weird little privacy window into her brain and Ari wrinkled her nose, about to break the silence again, when he hummed and shrugged. “Ok,” That was it. He sat the book back in its spot on her desk, a sigh passing his lips before lamenting about his latest snag in psych class and how his partner was some sort of neanderthal. There’d be more eventually, Ari could tell. It lingered in the air like smoke, thinning, but still there. Yeah, she recognized it for what it was and she was grateful. Cause yeah, this way she could figure out how to say things without just…word vomiting it all. Till then though, she humored him, offering up a sympathetic ear as she booted up her game once more. And things were as they always were when she focused on someone else.

Easier.

[acourtofthought]

About your last post.. I'm not even bothered in the slightest that Azriel didn't go feral for Gwyn during the blood rite.

Idk how many times it has to be said for them to finally get it but I and many others don't want Azriel to already pine for Gwyn. Tf is this? I never expected for Azriel to see Gwyn as a friend after ONE full conversation nor did I ever think any of their Interactions and eye contacts were romantic.

I want them to start from 0% to end on 100%. I'm satisfied with what we got. It's nothing romantic but it gives us enough hints that let's us know there is something small happening that will bloom later on.

I wouldn't have shipped it if Azriel immediatly went like "Oop- another girl to pine on? Welp, here we go again! Wait up my potential mate!!". He has already pined after one for 500 years, is pining after another who already has a mate... I'd rather have him be completely oblivious about the mating bond and his feelings and I'd rather have him see Gwyn as less than a friend for now to be able to see her as a person rather than love a stupid version of her like he does with Mor and Elain.

I never like to read books where the couples like each other from the start. El/riel having sexual tension already is also giving Sarah the opportunity to make another f*ckers to lovers crap like she did with Nessian. At least with Gwyn it leaves more page time to actually get to know each other first since they're not even friends.

I agree! And I wouldn't have even made that post because I do understand why Az hasn't gone feral over Gwyn if it hadn't been something they Anti's were constantly making posts about. We have precedent in SJM books where if a male is distracted by something else in his life, he isn't not always aware of having a bond with a female and also doesn't respond to her in the normal way a Mate might. Az's unrequited love for Mor and unhealthy obsession on Elain are taking up all the available brain space Az has right now. He's blinded by the things that are wrong with him so he can't see the thing standing in front of him that's right. I do think there are subtle hints that Az (without realizing it) is responding to Gwyn in a way that indicates she's his Mate but, it's not something so obvious that we're like "SEE?! HE KNOWS!" I think once Gwynriel is confirmed those moments will be the thing we can look back on and say, "I kind of thought this was a clue". I'm also not a fan of instant love. I need to see the progression in their feelings and that's something SJM usually does so well. I didn't feel connected to Nessian as a couple when they started hooking up but at least neither was pretending they were a fluffy, happy, in love couple right off the bat. And that's what E/riels seem to think E/riel is. Just so sweet and soft and in love and it all happened off page in someone else's book and it makes me feel like I'm reading about two 15 years olds experiencing their first crush who don't know how to have a conversation about anything real at all (insert green almost vomiting emoji here).

[word-wytch]

*Stalky fanperson word vomit incoming - you have been warned*

Firstly, I wanna say that I never, ever want to have to wait that long for an update every again. However, I also wanna say that this chapter was so freaking perfect that I’m really glad we had to! 😄 (I actually even managed to make it worse for myself by holding off reading it until I was certain I could give every one of the 18k words the time and attention it deserved, and I’m really glad I did - it’s utterly glorious!! 🥹) Congratulations on your summer-long work coming to an outstanding conclusion 👏👏👏

I wanted to do that thing that people do where they share their favourite sections, but I’m not even kidding when I say that if I did that I’d literally be copy and pasting the entire thing. Every. single. paragraph is literal poetry, art and/or a story in and of itself. You are a linguistic maestro, and I now have a new life goal of producing even just one line that comes even close to painting a picture like yours do (that’s the stalkery bit - I’m aware that this probably sounds a bit creepy 😬😬😆)

Also: me, before reading: OMGthey’regoingtokissOMGthey’regoingtokissOMGthey’regoingtokiss 🥹😃🥹😃🥹😃

Me, after reading: Ican’tbelievetheykissedIcan’tbelievetheykissedIcan’tbelievetheykissed 😱😱😱🤯🤯🤯

I still can’t quite believe they actually kissed, even though we all knew it was gonna happen. I thought maybe at some point one of them (r, most likely) would pull back and it would end as a heavy, emotionally loaded cuddle, or some touching, but damn, they actually crossed that line!!! I can’t wait to see how this affects things in the outside world from now on.

And the longing... The yearning... Ugh, it’s all so perfect! I don’t usually warm to these parts of a story, and even though they’re often necessary and essential I just want it to be over, but with these two? I’m a total convert.

I’m also seriously wondering how many other people have noticed or suspected what’s going on. We haven’t seen them from anyone else’s perspective yet, and by the reaction of the band, and those bits with Bill, I’m now concerned that they haven’t actually been as subtle as they/we think they have been, and it’s all gonna hit the fan realllllll sooooon…

(Plus, is Bill gonna be a problem? I said: is Bill gonna be a problem ? *raises one eyebrow and drops a closed fist into an open palm*)

I LOVE the being good/bad for each other internal battles that they’ve both got going on, it’s exquisite and so beautifully balanced, and adds a really special layer to both characters as well as the overall story.

Oh, and the song choices?!?! Puh-leeeeeze, SO PERFECT!!! 🥹🥹🥹🤩🤩🤩🥵🥵🥵 And Eddie on stage, singing, without his guitar?? I’ve never seen that done before, and it was exquisite!! 🙏🔥🙏🔥🙏🔥

IDK if you do a tag list, but if you do I’d love to be on it (and for anything else Eddie you write 😄). My brain is vibrating with both anticipation for the next part, and anxiety at the even slight suggestion that I might miss something 😵‍💫

Finally, I VISCERALLY AND BODILY **NEED** EDDIE’S TEETH ON MY NECK RIGHT TF NOW, so thank you for that… 🫠🫠🫠

‘K I think I’m done, thanks, bye 😆

Holy shit thank you SO much 🥹🥹🥹

It’s heartwarming to see my hard work so appreciated. I feel like “linguistic maestro” might be one of the highest compliments I’ve received so far. I’m incredibly flattered.

Our forbidden lovebirds have a lot of internal and external conflict weighing against them, and I am excited to explore this new phase of their relationship next chapter. As you can sense from the very last scene, they are on different pages when it comes to their attitudes about it. One has a whole lot more to lose than the other, and a whole lot more baggage when it comes to trust and relationships.

Part of what makes this so thrilling imo IS how dangerous it is. You bring up a good point with his friends and outside witnesses like Bill. You’ll certainly be getting hints of how they interpreted that night and what they think about the two of them in general as the story progresses.

I admittedly need to spend some time sitting down with my outline, as I am discovering that I might want to spend just a liiiitle more time (like one more chapter) exploring this limbo phase than originally planned. It’s so juicy being here, finally. The next phase will be even juicier ;)

I had closed my taglist for some time but I recently decided to open it back up and will add you. Thank you, again, so very much. 💕

[wanderingmirror]

The one nice Reg (Alt title: How one clone saved the rest simply by asking questions.)

It started when Sly, still a young cadet freshly out of his tube, began to notice things. Now, Sly had rightly earned his name. He was cunning, slippery, and quick witted. Because of that, Sly noticed things. Brothers acting odd, brothers getting decommissioned or reconditioned for no reason at all. And it all started with a fresh batch of tubbies. And a curious pair of minds.

|=|

"Enhanced! Hey wait a minute!"

Sly shouted, and the goggled clone stopped. He, like the other enhanced often did, tensed and shrunk down. Sly did his best to soothe the other by stopping at a good distance for the paler to run. Sly was holding his journal, one he often times carried around when he had a free day.

"You're the smart one right? The one the others always push around?"

He asked and the other flinched. The smaller nodded and Sly sighed in relief. That confused the other.

"Good, if I may, I'd like to pick your brain about something. It won't take long! I just need you to look at something! You don't have to!"

Sly said quickly when the other inhaled sharply. Sly worried for a minute that the other would decline or run away. But instead he faced Sly and nodded.

"Okay. What do you need my opinion on?"

And that was the day Sly met and befriended Tech.

|=|

Over the next few months, Sly and Tech had delved into the database, holonet, and records of the clones. They discovered the inhibitor chips. Found the orders coded on them. Both had made Sly vomit. Not liking the fact that they would become puppets once under the orders.

Sly was running around, trying to find Tech. He'd had a sudden theory he wanted to try. Though, Sly wasn't sure how they would test it even if Tech agreed. He found the shorter clone talking with his batch and squad. Sly slowed down, letting them catch sight of him as he neared. The three next to Tech all gave him varying degrees of a glare. And Sly wondered under his breath if he should just wait to ask later.

The most normal looking, Hunter, his mind supplied, blinked in surprise. Tech waved at Sly happily and ran over before Sly could talk himself out of approaching. The other three followed.

"Hello, Sly. Anything new on our project?"

Tech asked and all three of the others glanced at the shorter in shock. Then attention was back on Sly. He gulped.

"I had a theory I wanted to run by you. Though I don't know how we would test it anyway."

Sly said and Tech nodded slowly.

"What is it?"

Tech asked and Sly's eyes darted to the other three.

"Please don't take offense when I ask, but, can we trust them? Or do they already know?"

Sly asked carefully. He flinched when the slimmer one glared at him. He slammed his eyes shut and wondered once again if he should just wait for another day. A hand on his shoulder startled him and he opened his eyes. Hunter was standing in front of him.

"Why are you scared of us?"

The taller asked. Sly gaped at him.

"Unlike the rest of my batch, I'm not stupid. All of you could do massive amounts of damage or harm to me if you wanted. Heck, one of you could pick me up and throw me off the facility if he wanted to. I'm not going to pick a fight with you four over the fact you look different. Not even because you have enhancements."

Sly said, offended that these four would think he would hurt them. He wasn't stupid, the big one could easily brake a few bones if he wanted, the skinny one could make his life hell, and Hunter could take him out in seconds if he wanted. Sly also knew that Tech could alter and hide the evidence of his squads activities. And the long necks would be non the wiser.

Hunter blinked at him in obvious surprise. The big one grinned proudly and the skinny one smirked. Sly guesses that the other is going to hold that over his head for a long time.

"What was your theory, Sly?"

Tech pulled Sly from his thoughts and the taller gripped his journal close to him. He opened it to the newly written on page. And breathed before closing it after looking at his notes.

"What if we attempted to see if another clone could control the Chips? A higher ranked one."

Sly asked simply and the other three blinked. Tech hummed and crossed his arms.

"We would need to find one that would agree to keep quiet about it."

The goggled clone said and Hunter's lip twitched.

"I'm gonna be a Sergeant. If that counts for anything."

The other said and Tech and Sly looked at each other. Then in silent agreement, Tech and Sly led the other three into Tech's workshop. Sly stayed near the door, mostly for his own comfort around the bigger one. Who, as he now knew, went by Wrecker. The skinny one was named Crosshair. After the door to the shop was closed, Tech and Sly began to explain their project.

They spoke about Sly's discovery of the chips in the tubbies, about the orders coded to them, and how they were hidden inside every clone's head.

"Is that why you've been spending so much time in the data center, Tech?"

Wrecker asked and Tech nodded.

"Sly asked for my help since he couldn't understand much of the nature of the chips. He also asked for my opinion on the chips when he discovered their existence."

Tech said simply and Sly flushed in embarrassment.

"I figured it would be best to have the opinion of a smarter person than me. I may know a thing or two, but even I don't get all the stuff coded into the orders."

Sly said as he looked down into his notes again. He wrote something down and looked up when his statement was met with silence. Four sets of eyes stared at him in surprise. Sly wondered how often this batch of clones got praised or complimented. He gave them a small, hesitant smile, then returned his attention to his journal so he could find the page with the orders. Sly had learned to write very small. It saved him room and pages. He almost got into trouble when stealing this journal from a trainer.

"Let's try one of the less darker ones. Orders 21 and 36 look okay. Order 21 just says we would go limp. And Order 36 tells us to throw our comms away from us. Not that we have those."

Sly said and looked at Tech, who just cleared his throat. Hunter nodded and sighed softly.

"Let's make this isolated, my number is CT-2831. Just so it doesn't affect you four. The order to release is simply Order 1. But it should fade on its own."

Sly said and that got the others again. Hunter nodded and Sly stood up, placing his journal in Tech's care for the moment. All tensed up as Hunter stood in front of Sly.

"CT-2831, Execute Order 21."

Hunter said steadily. Sly's eyes glazed over and he felt his consciousness melt into the background. He dropped onto the floor seconds later. CT-2831 took over. CT-2831 looked through glazed eyes as another clone crouched in front of him. Calling a name he didn't recognize. The clone beside him, one who had on goggles, crouched down and said something else. That was against Order 21. He wasn't allowed to move until given permission.

"CT-2831, Execute Order 1."

The same clone said and CT-2831 felt his eyes shut. Sly came back to himself with a deep inhale. He coughed harshly into his elbow and shakily inhaled. He took the hand offered by Hunter to stand up, gently retrieving his journal and shakily writing his discovery down.

"I think it would be wise to quietly keep this knowledge to ourselves for the time being. At least until we have the ability to actually deal with the chips."

Sly said after a minute of silence. The other four nodded in agreement. The five cadets all talked a while, the Bad Batch getting to know this reg. Then, the reg waved and left after an announcement for his squad called him to blaster training.

___

(one year later)

Sly hyperventilated as his clutched his blaster to his chest. Staring at his fallen squad mate Lux. Lux, who now had no head. Sly couldn't move, the mission was going to fail if he didn't move. So he pushed away his emotions for now and darted to the separatist stronghold. He wasn't the only one, much to his distant relief. The bombs were set and Sly ran back a good distance. The door to the stronghold groaned as the bombs took it off it's hinges.

Sly and the two others with him all darted forward to get the mission complete. Taking out the rest of the droids and downloading the data from the many consoles. Sly could feel the exhaustion and shock trying to creep into his system but he held it back. Now was not the time for a mental shutdown. He could disassociate later. When the data was downloaded, Sly gave the signal to the other two and they retreated. One of the others, Ghast, commed for pick up and retrieval. Ghast and Ghost were both from the same batch. The Names a joke for most but Sly knew the significance of those names. Both men could be in and out of a base before you even realized they were there.

Training with the two of them was difficult when you were on the opposing teams. Sly stumbled a bit as they entered the forest again. Panting as his body rebelled against anymore movement. Ghost slowly stopped beside him and wrapped Sly's arm around his shoulders to help him stand up. Twin white helmets knocked together as Sly did his best to stay aware and awake. The sound of a landing ship had him jolting back to reality as one of the LAATS landed. The doors opened quickly and all three troopers were pulled into the ship. The doors shut and Sly was sat down on the ground.

And that was the last thing Sly remembered before he gave in to the temptation to pass out.

___

(One day later)

Sly had woken up to Ghost and Ghast sitting on either side of him. Both had one of his hands in one of theirs, talking in low voices over his head. He blinked slowly as his memory returned to him, trying to remember what happened after they got onto the transport. Ghost and Ghast squeezed his hands and he looked at them. They were staring at him with relief in their eyes.

"Doc says you had a severe concussion and a few broken ribs. Says one of em had been scratching at one of your lungs."

Ghast said as Ghost nodded in agreement. Sly then felt the tension around his ribcage and looked down. Bandages hiding a few new scars from both surgery and battle. Sly squeezed their hands.

"Did the mission get us anything?"

Sly asked in a hoarse voice. Ghost and Ghast looked at him and gave a slight grin.

"They can't crack the encryption. Says it's one they haven't seen before."

Ghost said and Ghast continued.

"And since you're our resident Slicer and code cracker, they wanted to wait for you to wake up."

Sly blinked in surprise. Sure being a Slicer was one of his hobbies, but he didn't think it was that well known. Sly flushed a bit in embarrassment as the twin's grins widened into smirks. Sly sighed and Ghost handed him a data pad and the data stick. And soon got to work. Never once did the twins leave him alone in the medbay, even when the medics scowled at them.

After the code was cracked, Sly couldn't help but pale. The inhibitor chips. How did the Sepies know about those? He quickly wrote down the information on that file in a separate new file before deleting the original. He sent the information to his personal pad hidden in his bunk. Any new information on the chips would help Sly get a clearer way of getting them out and saving the Jedi.

Neither twin commented on his sudden shakiness. Nor on the fact that he was editing enemy information. Sly sat the pad down and looked at them. Ghast and Ghost both looked back at him, quiet and patient.

"When I get cleared, I'll explain what I'm doing. But you both have to swear to keep quiet about this. If you don't it could result in Decommissioning or Reconditioning."

Sly said and the twins nodded in silent agreement. They took hold of his wrists and squeezed. Sly did the same to them.

And the twins became the only two Sly could confide in. About anything concerning the Chips.

___

(six months later)

Someone else knew about the chips.

Someone else knew about the chips.

Sly was paralyzed. He needed to get to this ARC trooper first. And fast. He alerted the twins to his plans, saying that it was urgent that they meet in 79's. He had the odd thought to grab an extra helmet. Deciding to use the excuse that it belonged to his squadmate and that his squadmate had dropped it. He arrived to find the clone he was looking for entering the fresher with another. The twins both arrived two minutes later.

When the trooper exited the fresher and started to leave, Sly signalled to the twins to converge on him. He got to the man first right as he was leaving. He took hold of the man's arm and dragged him into an alleyway clear of fronties and guardsmen. The twins blocked off the exit as Sly placed his hand over the soldier's mouth and a finger over his own to signal the man to be quiet.

He nodded and Sly sighed shakily. Sly could see that the trooper was clearly drugged. And not just by one type either. Someone clearly didn't want this trooper alive. Sly took the officer's hat off the trooper's head, making him put on the helmet. The trooper, Fives, sagged with relief.

"Don't say anything yet. Ghost, Ghast, I need you both to find out where the two chips are going. Get them back and head to the Resolute. We'll meet you there."

Sly said and both twins nodded and vanished into the shadows. Fives tensed up at the mention of General Skywalker's flag ship. Sly looked at him and gently hushed him.

"I need you to lean on me. We're going back to the ship from a night of drinking. I decided not to drink much and became your keeper for the night."

Sly said and Fives nodded with a shaky sigh. Fives leaned on Sly and the two made their way slowly back to the Resolute. There were more Guardsmen out tonight than before. Sly worried that he would get stopped and scanned. But no one paid them any mind. Probably thought that they were a pair of drunk clones heading back to the barracks.

Once Sly got Fives to the ship, he hurried them to the barracks he and the twins shared. He sat Fives down on his bed and took the helmet off. Sly snagged the secret medical kit from under his bunk and took a blood sample from Fives. Hissing at the amount of drugs in his system. Thankfully all that Fives needed was rest and water. Sly took out his canteen and gently coaxed Fives into drinking the water inside. He helped the trooper lay down and took out Ghast's paint. He mixed up the pigment for their skin tone and gently painted over the Five tattoo on Fives' head. The paint was skin save and wouldn't come off unless it started chipping or was washed off.

Meaning they would have to reapply it after every shower. Sly sighed and put everything away, keeping Fives on his left side so the paint could dry probably. Ghost and Ghast entered the room two hours later. They had the two chips with them and Sly perked up. He took them both and examined them. Gently tapping the names of each clone over the top. Sly hid the chips in his campaign pack. Where his journal and data pad hid more information.

For the rest of the night, the three clones kept Fives hidden. But when morning came, they were called to the bridge. The three told Fives to remain in their barracks. The man nodded and laid back down tiredly. And the three walked to the bridge, trying to come up with a plan of action. They arrived and stood at attention. Waiting for General Skywalker and Captain Rex to acknowledge them. When they did, Rex seemed to settle.

"Men, I'm glad you're here. I have a few questions for you about where you were last night."

Rex said and the three nodded.

"Of course, Captain."

Sly answered and Rex smiled at him. Being overly cheerful and kind, Sly could befriend just about anyone.

"Well, to start with, where were you three?"

"We each had different plans for the first few hours, they went to a shop in little Keldabe. I stayed on the ship cleaning up our barracks a bit. Then we met at 79's for drinks. Or well, after I got there to give one of my squadmates Fletcher his helmet. Since he was going to be out doing some of his own pranks."

Sly made it appear that he was embarrassed for his "squadmates" mischief. Both general and Captain snorted. Sly continued to give their night to the two and the twins gave their own input when asked. At this point, Sly was glad neither twin minded him speaking for them. Since neither liked talking much outside of each other and Sly.

"Okay, last questions. Did any of you see a trooper with a five tattooed on the right side of his head at any point? Did any brother look off during your time?"

Rex asked and all three shook their heads. Ghast took a minute to pretend to think. Even rubbing the stubble on his chin as if he was in deep thought. All three of them had some time of stubble. Sly's a bit more pronounced. He was also the only one with short lengthed hair.

"Sorry, Sirs. But we didn't really see anything. The only ones we saw were drunk or tired brothers."

Ghast finally said with a sad shake of his head. Both superiors nodded in understanding. Sly and the twins waited for the other boot to drop. They knew this all rides on Skywalker since he was a Jedi. If he sensed even the least bit of a lie, Fives could end up dead and they would be reconditioned. Or also dead.

"Alright, well, thank you for your time anyway. You're dismissed."

Skywalker waved them off and all three gave a silent thanks to whatever aided them. The three of them all turned and left the bridge and returned to their barracks. Sly sighed and moved to walk between the twins in an effort to settle his nerves without being seen from the side. Both twins wrapped their arm around his shoulders, and he wrapped his arms around their waists. They walked back in silence to keep their thoughts between the now four of them.

When they returned to their barracks, Fives was still fast asleep on Sly's bunk. The twins both bunked with each other to give Sly a place to sleep. The group sat in the room, Sly silently working Fives into the system as 'Fletcher' and sighing softly when the orders came that they were returning to Kamino. Sly shook with barely repressed fear. Wondering if Skywalker had known about Fives. But they wouldn't know until they got to Kamino.

___

(Two days later)

Talking with Fives gave Sly more information that completed the puzzle of who could take command of the chips. And the knowledge of the Chancellor being behind the entire war pulled Sly and the twins off center. They decided it would be best if no one knew about Fives being alive. And so, Fives was given the cover name Fletcher. They included Fives in most of their activities. Soon it became second nature to have a fourth member in their group.

Sly and Fives would work on a way to give the information without getting Fives caught or the other three reconditioned. Or worse.

___

(At Kamino)

The four pulled off from the main force and followed Sly to a less wandered part of the training facility. The other three were surprised when Sly greeted Tech and the other members of Clone Force 99. They entered a training room that wasn't used anymore and closed the door. Sly sighed shakily.

"Well, I have good news and I have bad news."

Tech sighed as well and nodded.

"Good news is I know how to get the chips out. Bad news is that if we do, then we may end up being killed to cover up their existence."

Sly said and the bad batch all tensed up. Sly went on to tell them of the past few days and they all agree to slowly and quietly take their chips out. Giving them to Sly to hide in one of the lesser used crates. Soon enough, Sly thinks there is enough evidence in his bag to push it to the Jedi.

___

When he started to gather the evidence, he felt the need to hide it in the bunk of the Resolute. And that feeling was right. He was handed reconditioning orders by one of the trainers. A trainer he knew to be very hatful towards clones. Sly paled at the sight and shakily left for the Resolute. He gathered the evidence and his journal, blankly walking towards General Shaak-Ti, Tech, and General Skywalker. Tech looked at Sly and paled.

"Sly?"

Sly looked at Tech in silence as he handed the goggled clone all the evidence of the chips. He pulled Tech into a Keldabe Kiss and exhaled shakily.

"When you see me again, I won't remember you. Have patience with me."

Sly said and all three of the people before him froze. Sly held up the recon order and gave it to Skywalker. Sly knew why he was being reconditioned, and he knew who was to blame. But there wasn't anything he could do about it. Not without risking Fives and the others.

"You are not being reconditioned, Sly. I won't let them."

General Ti said as she placed her hand on his shoulder. Sly couldn't help but laugh with a slightly hysterical edge. Tears fell from his eyes as the realization finally came over his body.

"I'm being taken out because I know what Fives knew. I know what he disappeared trying to prove! He wants me silenced so his plans don't fail."

Sly said as more tears fell from his eyes. His mind collapsed as the realization that he was about to be reset fell. He collapsed onto his knees and wrapped his arms around himself to try and keep it together. But his mind was already disassociating.

Sly felt hands grabbing him and fell deeper into his own mind. He barely felt the pinch of a hypo in his neck. Darkness chased his last thoughts of never remembering anything at all.

___

Waking up with his memories intact was not something he ever expected to do again. Waking up with his hands gripped tightly in someone else's was reassuring that he wasn't alone. But he worried that the ones holding his hands were trying to trick him into lowering his guard. He slowly opened his eyes to see both of the twins bickering in whispers over his head. Fives was half asleep on his left side with the clothe of Sly's blacks clutched tightly in his hand.

On his right rested Tech, who was quietly talking with someone Sly couldn't see due to Ghost sitting in front of them. Sly didn't get to stay wake for long as he was dragged back under by whatever medication he had been given.

___

When Sly woke up again, he felt himself being moved. He slowly tried to open his eyes but found that the world was too bright for him. He closed his eyes again and decided to just listen to the world around him. He could hear a strange sort of humming sound. Wondering who was humming, Sly slowly got his voice to work as he too began to hum that same tune. A soft but sharp inhale barely rang in his ears, but Sly kept humming to that tune until he was once again dragged under into unconsciousness.

___

(Outside POVs)

The clone was strange. Anakin could freely say that. Seeing the man have a mental breakdown because he was going to be reconditioned had tipped he and Shaak-Ti off that something was wrong. Discovering the amount of evidence against the chips and the fact that Fives was alive and have been hiding in plain sight startled Anakin. The knight was also surprised by the fact that Sly had kept the ARC Trooper safe under the noses of two jedi generals and several thousand other clones.

The evidence was damning towards his friend, Sheev. But it was also real and true. Every clone had a chip in their head that would enable Sidious to control them to kill the jedi. Sly had made lists of who was more likely to survive the attacks of the clones. Seeing that Anakin was not on the list was hurtful until the enhanced trooper named Tech told him that there was an order that Anakin was not to be killed, so putting him on the list seemed redundant.

Sly had come in and out of unconsciousness for the better part of a tenday. Mumbling about random things that the trooper must have been thinking about at the time. Doing some digging resulted in discovering the clone was force sensitive. And had been unconsciously using the force to get to this point. Or, rather, the force was using him.

When the council decided to place Sly under their protection, Anakin was surprised that Palpatine became angered by this. Almost as if he was aware of everything they were doing. And that sent many clones on edge. Sly had been protecting them by slowly alerting the medics about the chips. Using Fives' information to spread the word as silently as possible. It resulted in saving the lives of thousands of jedi.

Anakin decided that he needed a nap with his loving wife more than he needed to be awake in this world of betrayals and hurts.

___

(Sly's POV/One month later)

Sly was just out of a meeting with his mind healer when he was startled by Tech and the rest of the bad batch. Now six members with the adding of Fives and the recently returned Echo. Sly smiled as the five more active people tried to convince Tech to go out with them. Sly grinned and wrapped his arm around Tech, nuzzling the shorter man's neck in silent relief.

Sly could feel the silent presences of Ghost and Ghast at his back and felt the tension in his shoulders lift from him.

Peace was over them and his family was happily growing into something Sly could keep.

(End)

___

(Also on AO3 if you wanna read there. The Nice Reg. is its name.)