#i know the only thing it does is annoy people

[dollsahoy]

(disclaimer: I'm not saying your approach is wrong, and I'm not saying mine is objectively correct, I'm saying everyone is different)

The thing is, I have seen so many people who don't realize that these are mistakes at all.

They cut fabric cross grain, with the pattern pieces going every direction, and when the finished garment doesn't fit or hang right, they say "I don't know what I did wrong" and then they do it again in other projects. (I saw one person cut their sleeves cross grain, end up with the sleeves being a bit too tight, then said "Well, it's a Japanese pattern, and Asian people are smaller, so that's probably what went wrong.")

They don't use facings or interfacing (or stay stitching) and just fold and stitch their neckline, and it ends up too big and doesn't lay flat, and they fix it by re-sewing the shoulder seams or adding darts along the edge, not realizing that the neckline itself stretched out because of the lack of the stabilization that comes from facings/interfacing/stay stitching. (And then that neckline frays the first time it's washed.)

They don't notch or clip the curves--which are usually the necklines they skipped the facing on--and they say "This turned out kind of lumpy, I guess I'm just not good at sewing ha ha!"

They line their sheath skirt with quilting cotton and then talk about how they have to constantly adjust that skirt because it sticks to their legs--so annoying! (end of story)

It's really hard to learn from a mistake when you don't know you're making it.

I have a vintage "How To Sew" pattern on my desk right now. Not only does it include facings, but it also includes "A tissue lesson on how to fit a princess dress or jumper." Maybe modern easy/beginner sewing patterns don't think people are capable of sewing facings or clipping seam allowances or using the right kind of lining or cutting fabric out following the grain, but they used to, and people are just as smart now as they were then.

I grew up around sewing, and then I took a sewing course in college. With all respect to my mom, that sewing course taught me things that she didn't know she didn't know. And I've only learned more in the last 30 years, especially how and when the rules can be ignored to get the result I want, and I'd say it was easier for me to figure out where I can deviate because I had that solid foundation in What To Do--I didn't have to figure all of that out for myself first.

Everyone is different! Some people rebel against being told what to do and are happiest figuring it all out themselves, some people take in being told what to do and then start figuring out how to play with the rules, and some people just want to make that cute dress they saw online but don't understand why their version fits weird and think it's just because they made the stitches wrong. And then some of them will abandon sewing completely because they don't have the kind of thought patterns that will really interrogate why things aren't working the way they expect.

My original post was not saying that anyone has to do these things, but I was saying that there are reasons to do them, and thinking that there aren't reasons can lead to predictable issues.

Also, it is very funny (genuinely) to think that I don't still make mistakes. Not only do I still make mistakes, but I share them, so people will know that mistakes are part of sewing, no matter how advanced you are. But they're mistakes I'm aware of making, which are always easier to fix than mistakes I can't even imagine were made at all (which I'm sure I still do, too. I just don't, y'know, know.)

I cannot stress enough that all those things in sewing pattern instructions that seem pointless are actually very important

Yes, how you fold your fabric before putting down the pattern pieces and cutting matters, because it influences how the fabric drapes, and ignoring that can cause fit issues in ways you wouldn't expect

Yes, cutting an entire separate piece to sew to the edge to finish it is going to be better than turning the edge and stitching it on its own, because there are geometry issues in play that make it actually harder to just fold a curve to the inside.

Yes, cutting clips or notches into the seam allowance around curves should always be done, because those geometry issues will work on the seam allowances and keep the curve from laying flat (remember, clip when the curve goes in, notch when the curve goes out)

Yes, interfacing may seem completely superfluous and frustrating and an extra step to work with, but it adds rigidity and stability to areas that need it (especially under buttons)

Yes, using a fun quilting cotton print for lining looks nice, but the point of lining isn't to make the inside pretty as much as it is to make the inside slip smoothly over the layer under it, and quilting cotton is going to instead be prone to grabbing everything under it, so you really should use those annoyingly slippery lining fabrics

Yes, in general, you should use the kind of fabric the pattern tells you to use, because there have been centuries, if not millennia, of people throughout the entire world figuring out what fabric best suits what kind of garment, for reasons beyond aesthetics

I know that a lot of people new to sewing see these things and feel like they're things that just aren't necessary, because they skip them when they sew and the item ends up just fine. And if you don't mind the idea of your clothes looking homemade, then it is fine. But...if you're consistently skipping these things and end up unhappy with how homemade your items look, please consider that that result is at least partly because you're not following the entire directions

"Sewing" involves so much more than just the stitches

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Lonely Birthday - Caleb

Caleb x Non Mc/Reader

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

a/n: ok this is my longest fic yet (can you tell he's my fav), chat i think i cooked with this one. this will be the last part in my lonely birthday series, i really hope you guys enjoyed it!!

Tags: angst, happy ending, female pronouns, reader is not MC, female pronouns, cursing, reader is childhood friends w/ caleb and MC, MC is a bit of a spoiled brat here (pls dkm), this is set in a timeline where there are no evols and caleb does not die in an explosion, this one acc has a backstory in comparison to the other parts I wrote, just cause jumping right into it with caleb just didnt feel right without a proper backstory, use of pet names (sadly he's not calling you pip-squeak in this one but he does call you baby), mentions of self harm (nothing happens its just a thought that passes), lmk if i missed smth

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

Xavier Rafayel Zayne Sylus

taglist: @rcvcgers

You were always overshadowed by her, from childhood to adulthood.

To make matters worse, your birthdays were only a couple of days apart, yours coming before hers, because they were so close together your birthdays were always celebrated with her on her birthday.

It was like killing two birds with one stone. Every time you complained about wanting to celebrate your birthday on your actual date you were told it would be unfair for MC.

Your own family favoured her more than you, sometimes you wondered whether they even considered you their daughter at all.

But then there was Caleb. Him and MC were inseparable when you first met her, always there whenever you two hung out. Eventually, you got close to him as well and began to hang outside of your meet ups with MC.

He always made you feel like you were your own person, not a shadow of someone else.

Maybe that's why you fell for him.

Over the course of your childhood leading into your teenage years you were head over heels for him. Anyone could see it was obvious, and to certain people it bothered them, and you never noticed it until it was too late.

●・○・●・○・●・

Despite being the same age as MC, there was one thing you had that she didn't. You were far smarter than those your age, that gave you the ability to skip ahead a couple of grades so that you were at a level that was more to your capabilities.

But your brain could only get you so far in certain circumstances.

You were in the same class as Caleb, so naturally you ended up being closer to him than you were before. It also made admiring him much more easier.

But nothing was ever easy for you. All throughout your school years MC would always barge in on your study time with Caleb, always needing help with her assignments.

Normally, it wouldn't be a problem if it was a one off thing, but anytime you were over at their place to study with Caleb, it became a tutoring session for MC. It was even more annoying when she would constantly brush off your help, only wanting Caleb to help her.

"I don't understand it when you explain it. You're always using difficult words."

MC whined whenever you would offer to help, and each time Caleb would laugh and ruffle her hair.

"It's okay pip-squeak, I'll explain it in simpler terms."

Whenever he would say that, you could feel a pang in your chest.

It was during that time you and MC started to drift apart. You never really understood until that day.

●・○・●・○・●・

The day before graduation you finally chalked up the courage to confess to Caleb, and to your surprise he had accepted.

You had anticipated a rejection, knowing that he was busy with prepping to go to Skyhaven to attend the DAA, and unfortunately a lot of his free time was spent with MC.

He had always been protective of her, he also extended that to you as well. Although the way he treated you was different than the way he treated her.

The fleeting glances, the lingering touches, the nights he would spend with you when things were bad. How could you not fall for a man who cared for you like that.

You thought it was just your delusions that there was something between the two of you, but him accepting your confession made those delusions become reality.

●・○・●・○・●・

Everyone found you guys to be an unexpected couple, they always expected Caleb to be with MC with how good their chemistry was, but he viewed her simply as his little sister. One that he was a little too protective of but you never found that to be a sense of insecurity.

Or so you thought.

You and Caleb had been dating for almost 4 years now. It was a bit rough with both of you pursuing your academics and not having much time to spend together, but you guys always made it work.

Sometimes Caleb would bail on your dates because something came up with his studies, and you believed him. Who knew it was because someone felt a little jealous of you guys spending time together.

You had never realized that the dates Caleb bailed were because someone back in Linkon wanted attention, and who better to ask than Caleb!

You and MC and drifted apart, and after your graduation you barely ever saw her unless you were home for the holidays with Caleb. You chose to be the bigger person whenever she tried to monopolize Caleb's time, knowing he saw you more often than her, you let it slide.

Although, deep down it bothered you that she would always try to be the sole focus of his attention or when you guys went out on a date she just so happened to be there too, turning it into a group hangout where you felt like the third wheel.

Crazy right? Being a third wheel in your own relationship, guess you could cross that off on your bingo card.

It was your birthday tomorrow, you and Caleb had planned a nice day in with him cooking your favourites and then baking a cake together. Both of your schedules had finally managed to align and you guys had a week off, so you planned on crashing at his place for some much needed quality time.

With it being your final year, you guys were buried in back to back assignments and exams, the stress was high. Having the week off let you guys finally have a moment to breathe.

You packed your bags for the week before making your way over to Caleb's place, it wasn't too far of a drive. You made a quick stop at the grocery store, grabbing your favourite snacks and some groceries so you can make him some food while you're at his place.

By the time you got to Caleb's place the sun was just starting to set. You walked into his place, unlocking it with the spare keys he gave you.

It was quiet in his home.

"Hmm seems like Caleb isn't back from his classes yet."

You thought out loud. Putting away your stuff in his room you made your way to the kitchen, wanting to cook Caleb some dinner.

Like magic, as soon as you were done adding the finishing touches to dinner, Caleb walked in.

"Hi baby, it smells good in here."

Caleb greeted you, coming closer to place a kiss on your lips.

You quickly sent him away to go wash up while you set the table. Dinner was nice and peaceful, it was moments like these that made you feel happy. No distractions, just you and Caleb.

You guys spent most of dinner just catching up about all the stuff that happened while you guys were apart. Caleb insisted on cleaning up since you had cooked dinner, so you were sitting on the counter next to the sink as he washed the dishes.

You chatted away mindlessly, he listened with a smile on his face, throwing in a response here and there.

Once he was done, you were about to jump off the counter when Caleb slotted himself between your legs, hands coming to rest on your hips.

You immediately went quiet, the mood shifting to something more intimate. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours, nuzzling your nose with his.

You guys stayed in that position for a little bit, enjoying the moment. The rest of the evening was spent with you guys just lounging around and catching up.

As you were getting ready for bed you could feel your stomach drop with anxiety for no reason, you brushed it off as just your nerves about sharing the same bed with Caleb after a while.

You shouldn't have brushed it off.

You got changed into one of his t-shirts and got into bed, Caleb slid in not too long after, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest.

“Goodnight.”

He said as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Goodnight.”

You replied back, snuggling closer into his chest.

●・○・●・○・●・

It was around 4 am when you woke up to feeling an empty bed next to you.

It’s still warm, Caleb must have just gotten up.

You got out of bed to go look for him. The moment you stepped out the your room you spotted him in the living room dressed to go outside.

The alarm bells in your head were going off.

“Hey, where are you going this late at night?”

It was just a simple question, one that didn’t warrant the reaction you were about to receive.

“Out.”

Caleb replied in an oddly cold tone.

What’s with that tone?

“Okay, but that’s not what I asked. Where are you going?”

You asked again, something in your gut was telling you that you were not going to like the answer.

Caleb sighed out in frustration before replying.

“MC called and needed me, so I’m going to Linkon right now. You know how she gets.”

Normally you wouldn’t say anything, but this was supposed to be your time with Caleb, no distractions.

“Why do you always go at the drop of a hat whenever she calls? You’re supposed to be spending time with me, not running to her whenever something doesn’t go her way.”

Years of frustration were finally bubbling to the surface, you didn’t want it to come out but you had to set your boundaries.

“It’s not fair to me as your girlfriend if you keep putting her above me.”

Your voiced raised a bit as you spoke, you didn’t mean for it to but having to constantly deal with MC barging in on your time with Caleb, whether she knew he was with you or not, was beyond irritating.

“I’m not putting her above you, she just requires a bit more care and attention than you do.”

That did it, if you weren’t mad before you definitely were now.

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s exactly as I said it. MC always feels insecure, even more so when you skipped grades and left her alone. I can’t just ignore her when she calls me asking for help.”

Every explanation that came out of his mouth had you seeing red, you weren’t gonna back down either.

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me? Just because we were friends didn’t mean that I had to be stuck to her hip 24/7. I skipped those grades cause it benefited me for my future, and if she really was my friend she would’ve been happy for me instead of sulking around like a child.”

That lit a fuse in Caleb, if there was one thing he didn’t tolerate it was anyone saying something about MC, even if it was you.

“You better watch what you say, I won’t tolerate it even it it’s you.”

His tone had you taking a step back, it was a whole different level of cold. You should’ve taken that as your sign to back off and come back to this when you guys were less heated, but who were you if not stubborn.

“Omg how could I ever insult your precious MC. You need to let go of that overprotectiveness you have when it comes to her, it puts me in a tough spot when you go running to her like a dog when its owner calls.”

You probably took it too far with that but you were past the point of no return.

“You’re so infuriating! What do you not understand that MC needs me right now, every moment I spend here on this useless conversation is more time she’s alone.”

He spat back.

I’m infuriating?

That hit a nerve, but you couldn’t let him see that, not until you got all your feelings out.

“I’m infuriating?! What about MC? Every time we get some time together she always fucking ruins it! Can’t I just have all of your attention and time without her trying to barge in? It’s like she’s trying to make it so we don’t spend any time together!”

“God you’re so fucking clingy! I knew I should have listened to MC when she warned me not to date you!”

He yelled that at you, and for the first time since the conversation started you were speechless.

“What?”

Your voice was low and filled with hurt. You couldn’t believe your ears that he would say something like that.

“You heard me. I should have never dated you. I ignored MC when she warned me, I gave you the benefit of the doubt but I should’ve fucking known. MC would have been a better girlfriend than you.”

You could hear your heart breaking, you don’t know if you’d ever recover from this.

Caleb took your silence as an opportunity to walk around you to the door, slamming it behind him.

You felt your knees give out, the tears were streaming down your face in silent pain. You didn’t know he thought of you that way, you didn’t want to think that way but a part of you felt like MC was talking bad about you behind your back. It makes no sense he would say all of that on his own.

Will I always be in her shadow? Is that all I’m worth?

You thought to yourself.

●・○・●・○・●・

God knows how long you were in that position for, no sign of Caleb coming back or any calls or texts. You picked yourself up off the floor and gathered all your things, you’d be damned if you spent another minute in this house where you clearly had no worth.

Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, you made sure to clear everything you had at Caleb’s place, not leaving a single thing behind.

You put everything in your car and drove yourself home. It was 6 in the morning so the roads were starting to get busy but it was quiet enough for you to be lost in thought, a dangerous action while driving. You were so lost in thought you didn’t notice that you were approaching a red light until it was too late.

A car had crashed into your drivers side, and everything went black.

●・○・●・○・●・

*In Linkon*

Caleb had made it outside of MC’s dorm, the argument he had with you weighing heavy on his mind but his first priority was MC.

Who knew that argument would cost him everything.

It didn’t take long before MC threw open the door and jumped into his arms. He returned the hug by patting her on the head before heading inside.

“What happened? Why did you call?”

He asked, although his mind wasn’t entirely present in the moment, it kept drifting back to you.

“Oh no reason, I was just thinking about you and decided to call you. You know it’s my birthday in a couple of days so I wanted you to spend some time with me this weekend.”

For the first time ever, Caleb felt a spark of annoyance at MC’s reasoning. She had called him earlier in tears and said he needed to come quick, he even fought with you before coming here.

Pushing that feeling aside he simply smiled.

“You know I can’t do that pip squeak, I already promised Y/N I would spend my week off with her. We had a bit of an argument before I came here, so I have to go back in a bit to make sure she’s fine.”

He said.

She’ll probably be calmed down by the time I come back.

He thought to himself, boy was he wrong.

MC pouted, not liking how things weren’t playing in her favour, but she planned on trying to come up with another excuse later to get him to stay longer.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours had passed when he got that heart stopping call.

“Hello is this Caleb Xia? This is Skyhaven Hospital calling about Miss Y/N.”

The nurse spoke in a hurried tone, tt was like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“Speaking, what happened.”

His anxiety went through the roof, what happened after he left? Did you hurt yourself? But he never say any signs of depression, was he actually putting MC above you so much that he was ignoring your feelings?

His mind was running a mil a minute with each thought progressively getting worse, the guilt from what he said to you when you guys fought was finally kicking in.

“She was involved in a car accident and needs surgery, we require a signature from her guardian to proceed. Are you able to come in right now? It’s urgent.”

“Can I give you my consent over the phone? I’m currently in Linkon and it would take me some time to get back, I don’t want to delay the procedure.”

Although Caleb sounded composed, on the inside he was breaking.

“The surgeon said that should be fine, please do make sure to be here as soon as possible as you need to fill out some forms. We’ll get started on the surgery. Thank you.”

The nurse promptly hung up, leaving Caleb to his thoughts.

Without wasting a moment he got up and made his way to the door. MC had been trying to listen to what was being said on the phone, unable to decipher what was happening based on Caleb’s words alone. Seeing Caleb getting ready to leave she jumped up, trying to stop him.

“Where are you going? You can’t just leave, you basically just got here!”

She grabbed ahold of his arm, trying to physically stop him but it was of no use, he pulled his arm out of her grasp and tried to leave again before she spoke up.

“What excuse did she come up with this time? She does this all the time whenever you and I spend time together.”

Something in him had just snapped, it was like a fog had been lifted. Never in his life did he think he would be here getting upset at MC, but life has a funny way of proving you wrong.

“What are you even talking about, when has she ever done that?”

MC was taken aback, Caleb never questioned her whenever she said anything like this before, he would just spend some time comforting her.

“I don’t have time for this, I’m leaving. I’ll talk to you about this later.”

He said in a curt tone, leaving no room for discussion.

●・○・●・○・●・

Caleb had booked it to Skyhaven, not wanting to waste a single moment.

By the time he made it, the surgery was still ongoing. Grabbing the nearest nurse he asked for an update, unfortunately they didn’t have much of an update to give him aside from the fact that your condition was really bad when you were brought in. You had ran a red light and were hit on the drivers side by oncoming traffic, the other driver made it out with minor injuries and a concussion.

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. You had been brought in with internal bleeding, a broken arm and head trauma. Your recovery period was going to be lengthy, which in turn would also hinder your ability to graduate this year like you had planned, but that was a problem for next time.

Caleb slumped onto on the chairs outside the OR, the time passed by excruciatingly slow.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours later the operation was finally completed.

Seeing you in that condition physically hurt him, his chest feeling constricted.

“We were able to stop the bleeding but she’s still unconscious, because the head trauma was severe it’ll take some time before she will wake up.”

Caleb nodded, listening to the doctor’s words intently. He followed the nurses to the room where you were going to be recovering, taking a seat next to the bed he held your hand in his.

“I’m sorry, please. Please just wake up soon.”

Sadly you wouldn’t wake up for another two months.

Everyday Caleb would come to take care of you, making sure to change the flowers before they began to wilt, taking responsibility to wash you and take care of your hair, hell he would even do your skincare at night so you’d wake up in perfect condition.

Although he knew deep down inside that nothing he could do could ever make up for the things he said and how he made you feel. Caleb and MC had also grown apart during this time, constantly wishing that he had never went to see her that night, if he didn’t then maybe you’d be awake and smiling next to him instead of lying still on that bed in this lifeless hospital room.

Caleb came in with a fresh bouquet of your favourite flowers, silently he replaced the old ones, making sure to get some fresh water before putting in the new bouquet. Once that was done he made his way to his usual spot, right next to your bed.

Earlier the doctor said you were recovering well, although it would take some time and rehab for you to use your arm again. You’d also be weak from the extended period of time that was spent in bed, but Caleb was nothing if not determined to make sure he was there for you every step of the way.

“Hey baby, it’s me Caleb. You’re probably tired of hearing my voice everyday huh? The doctor says you’re recovering well, you’ll just need some rehab to help you get back into the groove of things when you wake up.”

Caleb kept getting choked up the more he spoke, he just wanted you to wake up, even if you don’t want him anymore, he’d be fine with that.

“I miss you, your voice, your sweet smile, everything. If I could trade spots with you I would. So please, please just wake up. I’m sorry for everything, I’m such a shitty boyfriend aren’t I? I can’t believe I said all of that, on your birthday no less.”

At this point the tears he tried so hard to hold back started streaming down his face. It was hard to keep up that strong front, but he tried because he felt that he didn’t deserve to be sad, not when he’s to blame for you being in this state.

He grabbed a hold of your hand, bringing it to his face hoping to feel something. Anything.

He nuzzled his face in to your hand as he silently cried. It wasn’t long before he was passed out in that chair, still holding your hand to his face.

He felt it in the middle of the night, always the light sleeper he was awake at the slightest of movements. He knew he wasn’t mistaken, he felt your hand twitch for this first time in two months.

He was now wide awake and sitting upright in his seat, watching you closely. That’s when he say it, your hand twitched in his hold, a slight groan escaping your lips, but your eyes had still yet to open.

Caleb had already pressed the call button, the nurses and doctor filling the room in a matter of minutes, that’s when you had finally opened your eyes.

●・○・●・○・●・

A series of tests had been conducted and the doctor had caught you up to speed with everything before you were left alone with Caleb. You avoided looking at him the entire time, it stung, but he couldn’t complain.

You cleared your throat uncomfortably, the dryness getting to you, but before you could even get the water, Caleb had already poured a glass and was holding it out to you.

You silently took it from him and drank it slowly, not wanting to shock your system. It was a struggle, your grip on the glass was weak. It almost slipped out of your hands if not for Caleb holding the bottom of the cup.

Once you were done, Caleb put the glass on the side, reaching out to grab your hands. You pulled them back before he could touch you.

“Why are you here Caleb? Doesn’t MC need you?”

Were you being petty? Yes, the fight that you guys had may have been two months ago for him, but for you it was like it was yesterday. The wounds from his words were still fresh.

You missed the look of hurt that flashed across his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"You don't get to come in here and think that everything will be fine. I just wanted one week with you, no distractions. All I got in return? You leaving me alone on the morning of my birthday after telling me you should've listened to MC when she told you not to date me?!"

You had tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them escape. You didn't want to let him see just how broken you were about this.

Caleb had nothing to say, how could he? He was the one who put you in this position, he's the reason you ended up in the hospital.

"Please just leave."

Your voice sounded so broken, all he could do was listen to your request even though every cell in his being told him to stay by your side. He chose to just wait outside your room, not wanting to be too far away from you but still wanting to respect your request.

As soon as soon Caleb left the room you let the tears you were holding back fall, your body shook with sobs as everything came crashing down on you.

Even with the morphine you could feel the lingering bits of pain all throughout your body.

You eventually ended up crying yourself to sleep. The silence had Caleb worried, so he had decided to check in on you, seeing that you were asleep he was able to calm himself down a little.

But the sight of your tear stricken face had him clutching his chest in pain, all he wanted to do was take away your pain.

For now, he was just going to try his best to be by your side, no matter how much you pushed him away. He was determined to make things right.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of weeks had passed before you were finally released from the hospital.

During that time Caleb was as stubborn as ever, never leaving your side unless it was for classes, he spent the nights next to your bed, watching over you. He was always one step ahead, if you were thinking about food or water, the next second he would have it in front of you.

You didn't want to admit it, you enjoyed having him wait on you hand and foot. But you still weren't ready to forgive him, not yet. You still needed to talk to him about what happened before you could decide where this relationship was headed.

You wanted to give him another chance, seeing how tirelessly he's been taking care of you these past few weeks. You could only assume he was doing the same those two months where you were unconscious.

In the meantime, you decided his punishment would be your silence, not speaking to him unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then you only spoke a few words.

Caleb was currently in class, it was a Friday so that meant he'd home earlier than the other days.

You didn't have much of a choice as to where you'd be staying, Caleb wanted to make sure you were taking all your medication as well as doing the exercises you were assigned for your rehab, he knew how forgetful you could be, and you were in no condition to be staying on your own. So his solution was to have you stay at his place.

Being there brought back bad memories, but you had made up your mind to talk to him about it. If you were going to be staying here you needed to know where you guys stood in each others lives.

You were currently in his room, wanting to take a nap but your mind was too active for you to relax.

It wasn't long before Caleb came home, not seeing you in the living room he immediately made his way towards his room.

The moment he walked in he relaxed, seeing that you were alright. You saw him and thought,

It's now or never.

"We need to talk."

Caleb's heart dropped, his mind went crazy thinking you were about to break up with him. Although he couldn't blame you for wanting to, but he refused to let you go, you were the only good thing he had in his life, he couldn't afford to lose you. Not before he had a chance to make things right.

"Okay."

He said as calmly as possible, not wanting to give away the immense anxiety he was feeling from this situation.

He walked towards you, kneeling on the ground next to you.

"I'm giving you one chance to explain yourself for that night."

That was all he needed to go on tangent about that night, from the call from MC where she was crying to going to her house and finding out she had been lying to him to get him to spend more time with her instead of you to him and MC having a falling out because of the things she said about you.

He laid it all out, he wasn't proud of the fact that he was so easily fooled by her. He had known her far longer than he had known you, and thought she would never lie to him, boy was he wrong.

"I admit that I have absolutely no excuse for letting myself believe her words. I can't forgive myself for the things I said that night and how I just left you there. It was all my fault."

He took your hands in his, you would've pulled them out of his reach but this time you let him hold them. You could see in his actions and in his eyes how much he regretted that night and how he had been trying everyday to make things right.

"I blame myself for your accident, if I had just stayed with you, if i had never said those words you wouldn't have ended up in this condition."

You had never really seen Caleb cry, so seeing him now in tears as his brain recounted the feeling of seeing you on that hospital bed, had your mind coming to a conclusion.

You were going to give him another chance, his one and only chance. If anything like that happens again you won't stick around, you had enough self respect to not tolerate that.

You removed yours hands from his, Caleb had a look of hurt when you did that, but it didn't last long before you cupped his face, wiping away his tears.

"You get one chance only. Mess up and you'll never see or hear from me again, got it?"

He nodded his head like a child before pulling you to the floor and onto his lap.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck as silent sobs raked his body. You ran a soothing hand through his hair to help him calm down.

It hurt to see him like this, but he also deserved it. Even if it was a fraction of the pain you went through.

"I promise I'll make it up to you. Anything you want, I'll do it."

His voice came out muffled, but you could feel the sincerity in it.

"I'll hold you to that."

[kissingmilfs]

⚔ 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⚔

18+ minors and men dni. i do not condone these actions in real life.

content warnings: mentions of abuse, stockholm syndrome, voyeurism, masturbation, boot and thigh grinding, sorta-ish pet play

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

🗡 if ambessa were to keep a pet (human) — i think she would want one she can break. she adores a feisty person. one who will bite her and head butt and maybe even have the audacity to spit on her. she doesn’t mind any of it. matter in fact she finds ways to antagonize you into getting those reactions.

🗡 as her prized possession of war - ambessa was well aware you were gonna be fiery and headstrong. everything you wanted you needed to plea and beg for. you went a whole month without a shower once. every time she asked something of you, you’d respond with “fuck you” or if she got close enough—you’d most likely bite her. eventually ambessa got too irritated with slapping you into submission. instead she created a gag and watched as you helplessly thrashed as the gag was wrapped around your mouth.

🗡 her favorite form of punishment most likely is stepping on you with her boots. or even kicking you depending on how insolent youre being. you’ll say something snarky and ambessa will only glare at you once before you realize she’s pushing you on the floor and her boot in your back.

🗡 it took ambessa three months trying to break you but she figured it out. it was pathetic honestly. you were so touched starved. deprived of human contact and affection. even before she found you on those ruins of a battlefield. it happened unexpectedly too. ambessa had went to wipe your drool off your chin. she didn’t necessarily think about how gentle she was either.

🗡 you never flinch when her hand comes close to your face. there’s always a defiant look in your eyes. ambessa could never tell if you were masochistic, a product of your severely messed up environment or both. but she does know the second you flinched at her soft touch and the dilation of confusion in your pupils—she had you.

🗡 ambessa never stopped with her harsh disciplining. but things changed. she took it upon herself to move you from the hole she had you in. the servants liked you enough, because you never lashed out on them, and she ordered them to give you an intense bath. once you returned to her an actual human—ambessa brought you into her personal chambers. she made you lay your head in her lap, absentmindedly stroking your hair. she spent days upon days doing this with no words spoken between you.

🗡 finally after three weeks ambessa asked for your opinion on documents she was overlooking. she allowed you to sit on her lap as you quickly read them. and when you offered the same opinion as ambessa and one potential detail ambessa overlooked - she knew she had you.

🗡 wherever she goes - you go. you’re attached to her hip but in a different manner than rictus. you do trail behind her nonetheless. but you have to actively watch her body cues for instructions. if she wants you to sit, ambessa only needs to raise an eyebrow. if it’s your turn to talk ambessa pointedly stares.

🗡 most people assume you’re a well trained advisor or secretary. both are true. ambessa hasn’t broken you to the point you’re a dumbified thing. she has no use for people without a purpose. you’re always diligently taking in your surroundings. keeping account of those interacting and reading their body language just as ambessa taught you.

🗡 no one knew, maybe besides rictus, your true title as ambessa’s pet. she reserved her affections for private. but you always knew if ambessa annoyed, displeased, or satisfied with you in public. in private ambessa pinches your cheek or pats your head when you’re good. she loves seeing the warm glow and your closed eyes as she gives the tiniest amount of affection.

🗡 ambessa hasn’t…well it took ages…for ambessa to touch you sexually. it doesn’t mean she didn’t keep her prized possession and pet satisfied. she’ll make you slowly strip in front of her. the first time she asked you to show her where you like being touched. you only pointed but ambessa demanded more. your fingers would tug on your sensitive nipples. you’d trail your fingers over the swells of your thighs. teasing the soft areas of your inner thighs. she did not stop you from rubbing your clit. or fingering yourself. when you came with a measly whimper—ambessa flicked you away with dismissal to clean yourself up.

🗡 if ambessa wants more contact—she’ll have you grind on her boot. it’s a humiliating experience for you. but even more humiliating when you actually do come and made to clean up the mess with your tongue. she even makes you thank her for the opportunity. or if ambessa is feeling particularly cruel—she’ll have you grind on her clothed thigh while you go over reports. every time you stop or stutter—ambessa’s forcefully pinches your nipple and slaps your thigh.

🗡 ambessa cannot deny she enjoys having such a pretty and mostly docile pet. you’re an excellent outlet and she doesn’t have anyone else in her ear saying what she’s doing is wrong. especially not when you kneel expectantly at the end of her bed—waiting for her to drag you into her arms and stroke every inch of your skin until she falls asleep.

tag list: @ivorydevil @langedelalune @doktorblitz @tojisbestslut

[cookiecakecookie-cake]

An Ancient Cookies x child reader Headcanon !! How would they take care of them !!??

my first actual post! woohoo! i love the ancients sooo much. sorry if some of these headcannons feel less special than others, my creative juices definitely exploded all over the place while writing these, lol. -cookie cake

₊‧.°.⋆Half of my Heart is in your Chest

⋆.°.‧₊

✮-Ancient Cookies + GN!Kid!Reader -✮

(cws: mentions of death/implied child death, emotional absence. heavy angst in dark cacao + golden cheese's sections.)

Pure Vanilla

One of THE best parents of the bunch. Don't get me wrong, they're all great, but Pure Vanilla is. Well. Pure Vanilla.

Sooooo sweet and supportive. Will not force you to do anything that you don't want to, he's all about gentle encouragement and patience. He wants you to become the best version of you and that is incredibly apparent in every little thing he does.

He loves to take you out on walks with him. He's very much an outdoorsy kinda person. The world has given him so much that he's grateful for and he wants to instill that same love and appreciation inside you, too.

And if you ever get tired, he'll immediately offer to carry you. Doesn't matter if you're an adult now, you're still his baby!!

Cries over any of your achievements. It doesn't matter how big or small they are. He's just so damn proud of you!!!

He would never ever in a million years raise his voice at you. If he ever does, its not intentionally, and he immediately apologizes for it after.

Anything you take an interest in, he'll ask you allll about it. He wants to know everything.

Actually, he just asks you about a lot of things in general, you're one of his favorite people to talk to.

Speaking of talking to people, he LOOOOOVES talking about you to anyone who will listen. He's the dad that keeps, like, one of those massive tape albums in his wallet.

All of the images in it are only of you in various stages of life that he's taken over the years. He's always ready to show it off to anybody who asks! (As well as people who don't. He's so annoying about how much he loves you.)

Your number 1 supporter, no matter the time, no matter the place. He'd do nearly anything just to see you smile.

He doesn't care if you turn out to be somebody great, somebody horrible, or nobody in particular. You're the most wonderful person in the world to him.

Hollyberry

Do you like bone crushing hugs? I hope you do since that is what you'll be getting every single day now!

Another member of the "You could literally bite my hand and I would still coo and aww over you" club (the president of said club being Pure Vanilla Cookie)

For the first dozen years of your life, she actually cuts back on the Berry Juice, despite her love of it, she wants to be fully present for every single little moment of yours.

She goes out on little "hunts" (random adventures) whenever she isn't busy with her work as Queen. If you're the more adventurous type, like her, then she looooves taking you out with her!

Any and all of your "triumphs" together get put on the front page of the news, for everyone to see! (And also to give Wildberry cookie a heart attack!)

But no matter what danger you're in, she'll always make sure you're safe. It's her number one priority.

On the other hand, if you don't like to go out as much, she's more than fine with that too! (See: "member of the 'you could bite me and I'd still love you unconditionally' club")

When she's out and about, she's sending you all sorts of trinkets and souvenirs, and when she's back, she's aaaall over you, asking you how you've been, if she missed anything important, etc etc.

She'll even go out of her way to organize events that cater to your homebody-ness, royal balls, galas, parties, fares, you name it, she will not let a boring day go by for you. (Unless, of course, you want a boring day for once.)

Also: You have a dragon for an... uncle? aunt? auncle? Whatever the gender-neutral version of that word is. Anyways, yes, of course Pitaya Dragon Cookie knows all about you.

Even before they are "reformed," they're quite familiar with you and somewhat respectful towards you. As respectful as a dragon like them can be.

Hollyberry is a cookie that means a lot to them (As "rivals" tend to do. Insert a knowing gaze here.) and so you, by extension, mean a lot to them.

Of course, Hollyberry does NOT let you ANYWHERE near Pitaya at first. Only when they stop being an active threat does she ease up a bit.

At first, they don't really Get It, but that changes once Snapdragon enters the picture.

Oh. Oh thats why Hollyberry likes the small cookie so much.

If you are young enough, you essentially become Snapdragon's unofficial big sibling.

If you're on the older side, you become their go-to babysitter!

Either way, you get to take care of a very rambunctious dragon baby! Wahoo!

Spending time with you, in any way, is super important to her. She loves you, loves talking to you, loves doing anything with you, and she wants to do whatever she can to make sure you feel the same.

Dark Cacao

Dark Cacao is trying so hard, bless his heart.

You will spend a lot of time with him just learning. He wants to teach you so many things. He teaches you about the kingdom, about the snow, about the Licorice Sea and everything beyond it.

And he teaches you how to fight. Not because he wants you to, for from it. He hopes everyday that you'll never need to use these lessons.

But he knows, deep down, those hopes are in vain because those lessons they will be some of the most important he'll give.

He has. a lot of expectations for you. You will probably be denied a lot of simple pleasures that the other ancients would freely give.

But he loves you. And he is trying.

There may be times where you don't feel loved, but that is a lie. There will never be a moment under Dark Cacao's roof where you are anything other than his beloved child.

How he treats you changes depending if this is before or after Dark Choco betrayed him. If its after, he definitely becomes a lot more overbearing, especially since you're the sole heir to the Cacao Kingdom now.

He does not want you to become like him, that's for sure. He's made so many mistakes that he could make a mountain out of them, with even more regrets.

He doesn't want you to live like that. He wants you to live happy, because you are one of the few things in this world that has made him happy.

It is a lot. And he knows that. Which is why he tries all he can to prepare you. To protect you.

Because he loves you.

He loves you so, so much, its scary to him. Not because he loves you, no, you would never be something bad to him, but because he is scared of what will happen to you.

The world was cruel to him. He has seen so, so many people he cared for pass away like grains of said in the wind, but he refuses to let any chilling indifference take you away from him early.

He loves you so so much, beyond anything. He wants you to be happy in was he wasn't, because he loves you.

And his shoulder will always be free for you if you need a rest from it all.

Golden Cheese

You would think that Golden Cheese would be, like, the wine mom of the ancients,

And to be fair, she definitely is,

But she's ALSO the most overbearing!

Golden Cheese is greedy. She wants to keep her precious treasures with her at all times.

It just so happens that, to her, you're the most valuable thing inside her whole kingdom.

So, understandably, she wants to keep you safe.

This is doubled even moreso inside of the Virtual Kingdom. She lost everything dear to her once, she is NOT going to loose it all again, and ESPECIALLY not someone like you.

(She gets way better after the events of episode 18, but for a good while she keeps veeeery close tabs on where you are.)

Fun angst idea! If you just so happen to be one of the casualties of the Dark Flour War, she would be irreparable! Take all her treasures, damn them all, but not you. Anything but you.

Forgiving White Lily would be a lot more difficult to her, if that were the case, or at least it would weigh a lot more on her. You'd probably have to try and convince her yourself to let her off the hook.

Haha! Owch! Onto more stuff other than that!

She wants you to fly. Like. REALLY wants you to fly. Flying is one of the best experiences in the world to her and being able to fly with you, too? Even better.

She'll let you fall, it's important to her that you learn how to soar on your own, but she would never let you crash.

And if you do crash and she isn't able to catch you, she'll be with you in every step of your recovery process.

Anything you make her, regardless of the quality, gets put amongst her personal collection of treasures. She always wants to be able to see them in their most pristine condition.

Anyone that dares to question why she keeps a macaroni portrait you made of her gets sent to the dungeon. Bye-bye!

Funnily enough, I don't think she would spoil you rotten. I mean, you're a liiiiiiittle bit spoiled, you're still Golden Cheese Cookie's kid. But again, she wants you to learn how to soar on your own. She'll help if you ask for it, but she encourages you to go out and work for it yourself. The satisfaction of earning something is the best part! She's not gonna let you out on that.

Anytime you get a treasure of your own through sheer hard work and dedication, she holds the grandest celebration for you. No matter what that treasure may be. It may just be something small like making a friend for the first time, she doesn't give a fuck. She wants her kid to know how proud she is of them, and how much she loves them.

She doesn't cry often, but whenever you start to spread your own wings without her, she'll definitely let a few tears slip. She's so unbelievably proud of her greatest treasure.

White Lily

She is so unbelievably sweet and soft with you.

You make the world so wonderful to her, she wishes everyone could experience the sheer joy you bring into her life like she does.

One of her favorite things to do with you is to read bedtime stories. It's so simple, but she loves holding you with one arm, propping up a book with the other, and narrating some little story about a cookie and his friends going on fantastical journeys together.

She loves watching your little face react to all of the twists and turns, fighting off drowsiness as long as you possibly can just to see another page...!

Of course, she knows when to stop and when she does, she closes the book up, puts it in her lap and gives you a little kiss on the forehead to quell your cries of "just one more page!!"

After that, she tucks you into bed with all the care she can, turns off the lights, and puts away your book before slowly closing the door, checking ooone last time to see if you're really asleep.

She has a magical lilies set up inside your room to act as a night light just for you.

They glow with a the perfect amount of light, enough to keep you feeling safe, but not enough to keep you up.

A lot of the time she feels completely out of her depth, but she tries her best to do what's right by you.

... However there's still plenty of times where she has no idea what to do. In those cases, she goes straight to her best friend, who is waaaay better at this stuff than she is.

A lot of her parenting tactics are pretty similar to Pure Vanilla's, which is no wonder since basically anytime she needs advice about raising you, she goes to him.

Speaking of Pure Vanilla, just by being White Lily's kid, you end up spending a loooot of time with Pure Vanilla, too, just because he's the one she trusts the most to take care of her kid.

She wants to make the world a better place and you only double that desire inside of her.

If you come about before the Dark Flour War, she starts to throw herself even further into her studies of the origin of cookies.

If you aren't old enough to take care of yourself, you end up in the custody of Pure Vanilla for awhile. (See above section titled: "Pure Vanilla" to know what that's like.)

After the Dark Flour War, when she's revived by Elder Faerie Cookie, she realizes how much time was stolev away from the both of you.

She only hopes that she can make it up to you now.

[animamii]

Junior year rolls around and ohh has highschoolsweetheart!Eren changed.

You hear him before you see him—his voice cutting through the morning hum of students catching up after the summer break. It’s familiar, unmistakable, and yet, when you turn around, your breath catches in your throat.

Oh.

This was not the Eren Yeager you left behind in sophomore year.

Gone was the lanky boy who used to trip over his own feet during gym class, the one who wore those wrinkled short-sleeved button-downs with the same rotation of black skinny jeans and scuffed Converse. The Eren standing before you now was… different.

Taller. Broader. The summer had done something to him—his arms, his shoulders, his entire build had filled out in a way that made your brain short-circuit for a moment. His hair, once perpetually messy but in a boyish kind of way, had grown out just enough to curl at the ends. He still had that same wild energy, the same excitement in his eyes as he grinned at you, but there was something undeniably new about him. And he was pretty. Not that he wasn’t always attractive—he was, and you’d never denied it to yourself. But this? This was unfair.

“y/n!!” He reaches you in a few easy strides, completely oblivious to the way your brain is currently buffering. Before you can even react, he’s throwing an arm around your shoulders like it’s nothing, pulling you in for one of those classic Yeager side hugs, all warm and familiar and way too casual for the internal meltdown you’re having.

“Dude, I haven’t seen you all summer!” he exclaims, ruffling your hair in that annoying way he always does, like you’re still kids and he doesn’t look like he walked straight out of a teenage coming-of-age movie. “Why’d you ignore my texts? I was about to file a missing person report.”

You blink. He’s looking at you like he hasn’t changed at all, like he isn’t standing there all tall and golden, like he isn’t suddenly one of the hottest guys in school. And you? You’re still standing there like an idiot, trying to piece together a response.

“I— I was busy,” you manage to say, and it’s only half a lie. You had been busy, but you’d also needed space. Space to sort out the mess of feelings that being best friends with Eren Yeager had turned into over the years.

Eren, being Eren, doesn’t notice your internal crisis. “Pfft, busy. You mean ghosting me?” he teases, nudging your side. “I should’ve just shown up at your house.”

You scoff, regaining some of your composure as you roll your eyes. “Like my mom wouldn’t have loved that. She’s still convinced we’re secretly dating.”

Eren barks out a laugh, shaking his head as he tosses it back. “She’s been saying that since middle school. At this point, I think she’s just manifesting.”

Your heart lurches at his words, but you shove the feeling down. This is Eren. Your best friend. The same guy who used to perform Justin Bieber songs in the middle of the quad for you. He might look different now, but he’s still him. Even if the way people are starting to stare at him—at you two together—is making your stomach twist in a way you’re not quite ready to admit.

The first day of junior year had barely started, and yet, you already felt like you were walking through some alternate reality. Eren was still draped over you, arm slung around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world, completely oblivious to the way people were looking. Correction: the way people were looking at him. It was impossible to ignore. You could hear the whispers as you walked down the hallway together, the way heads turned when he passed.

You roll your eyes, scoffing as you nudge him off you, but the warmth of his arm lingers on your shoulder. “Yeah, well, she’s gonna have to give it up eventually. We’re not dating.” You don't know if you say it to convince yourself that there is no possibility it would become reality.

Eren grins like a bad little kid, his eyes glinting in that Eren Yeager way that usually spells trouble. “Not yet.”

Your heart does this annoying little skip in your chest, but you quickly shove him with more force this time, scowling to hide the smile that forms against your own will. “Shut up.”

He just laughs, dodging your next attack like the menace he is. “Damn, I missed you,” he grins, and there’s something about the way he says it—casual, easy, genuine—that makes your stomach flip. You hate how easily he gets under your skin. How he annoyingly burrowed his way into your heart.

Before you can retaliate, a group of girls passes by, whispering not-so-subtly behind their hands. You recognize some of them—volleyball girls, cheerleaders, a couple of girls from your English class—but they barely spare you a glance. Their eyes are all locked on Eren. And he knows it. The worst part? You know he knows it, too.

One of them, a tall blonde with perfectly curled hair, flashes him a bright smile. “Hey, Eren,” she says, twirling a strand around her finger like it's a damn high school movie. You're usually a girl's girl, but right now you were shooting daggers at her.

Eren, to his credit, doesn’t look phased. He just tilts his head, grinning in that annoying way that makes your blood boil. “Hey.”

That’s it. Hey. And yet, the girl giggles, and you want to die. It’s like some cruel joke. Last year, nobody would have given him a second glance. He was your Eren—goofy, loud, a little dorky, always getting himself into trouble. Now? Now he’s on the varsity football team, his arms are looking a little too good in that fitted black tee, and suddenly he’s the guy every girl is looking at.

You hate it. You don’t even know why you hate it, but you do.

Eren barely acknowledges them, turning back to you like nothing happened. “Anyway,” he says, slinging an arm over your shoulder again like it’s nothing, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. “What class you got first?”

You shake yourself out of whatever weird haze you’re in, clearing your throat. “Uh—math. Mr. Moblit.” Your eyes scan over the salmon pink piece of paper that held your class schedule, and Eren leans in just a little too close to read it.

He groans, dramatically throwing his head back. “Ugh, lucky. I got stuck with Mr. Shadis.”

You snicker. “That sucks.” You can't help but smile when you see the same characteristics from Eren. Even if he did look fine ass hell, oh so different from last year, he still acted the same.

“I know, right?” He sighs, dropping his head onto your shoulder in fake despair. “If I fail, just know it’s because Shadis has it out for me.”

“You fail because you never pay attention,” you remind him. You've had plenty of classes with Eren, with him always sitting next to you. He would be doing anything but pay attention.

“Okay, but, like, who even uses calculus in real life?” Eren squints his eyes, and you can feel every little movement he does as his head rests on your shoulder.

You roll your eyes, shoving him off you for the second time, ignoring the way your skin tingles where his head was resting. “Come on, dummy. We’re gonna be late.”

He groans again but follows after you anyway, falling into step beside you like always. Like nothing’s changed. Except everything has changed. And you’re starting to realize you have no idea what to do about it.

Lunch rolls around, and you find yourself dragging your feet through the cafeteria, still processing the weirdness of the morning. You’re not sure what to make of Eren’s sudden glow-up—or the way your chest does this annoying little flutter every time he looks at you like nothing’s changed. All the effort of trying to get over your little crush on Eren was wiped clean, the boy really had a grip on your heart now.

You end up at your usual lunch table, the one you share with Ymir and Historia, Sasha too but she was going to the culinary club's welcome party because duh, Sasha isn't going to miss out on extra free food. The two of them are already sitting, bickering about something stupid, but the moment you drop into the seat next to them, it’s like they both sense something’s off. They can feel the energy radiating off of you, the look on your face when something is bothering you. Ymir eyes you with a raised brow, and Historia’s gaze flickers to the door, where Eren is walking in, looking effortlessly cool, chatting with Armin as they make their way toward your table.

“Oh, boy,” Ymir mutters under her breath. “You’ve got that look on your face. What’s going on with you and Yeager?”

"How do you know it's something between me and Eren?" You raise an eyebrow, a little frustrated that she knows you so well.

"It's always about Yeager," Ymir and Historia say in unison, giving you that look of obviousness.

You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing. We’re fine.” A deep sigh still escapes your lips as you open the bottle of apple juice your lunch came with.

“Mmmhmm,” Ymir hums skeptically, but she doesn’t push it. Historia, on the other hand, flashes you a concerned smile. Her brows perch up with sympathy.

“You sure? You’ve been acting… different.” Her voice is soft, almost too knowing, but it’s enough to make you squirm.

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you say, the words coming out a little sharper than you intended. But it’s not like they’re wrong. You have been acting weird. And it’s all because of Eren, damn that boy.

Your thoughts are cut short as Eren plops down next to you, his familiar arm slinging around your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Yo! What’s up, guys?” His voice is as loud and cheerful as always, but there’s something in the way his eyes linger on you that makes your stomach twist. Ymir raises an eyebrow, but Eren doesn’t seem to notice. Historia’s gaze flits between you two, but she stays quiet, focusing on her lunch.

“Hey, y/n,” Eren says, his voice a little softer now, and you feel your heart race. “You doing okay?” Your eyes flicker to him, seeing his pretty face in a concerned look as he stares at the side of your internally panicked face. It's enough to make your insides ache, enough to make your heart beat a thousand times faster.

“Yeah, just… tired,” you reply, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal, even though your mind is anything but calm.

“You sure?” His expression softens, and for a second, it’s like the world fades out, leaving just the two of you. His hand, warm against your back, feels like it’s burning right through your shirt. “You don’t look fine.”

You can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “I’m fine, really.”

Eren nods but doesn’t look convinced. He leans in a little, lowering his voice so only you can hear, “If you say so. Just know, if you need anything, I’ve got your back, yeah?”

Your heart stutters at his words, the genuine concern in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But the moment is interrupted by the loud cackle of a voice from across the table.

“You hear that, Historia?” Ymir teases, her grin far too knowing. “Eren’s looking out for y/n. Makes me wonder if you’ve got competition, huh?”

Eren laughs, unbothered, and flicks Ymir’s ear. “Shut up, Ymir. You know it’s just—” He looks at you for a moment, his grin faltering, then shrugs it off. “Just what we do. We're best friends. Nothing weird.”

You feel your heart drop a little, but you brush it off. “Right. Nothing weird.” It's almost as if you're trying to reassure yourself, which, let's be honest, you really were trying to. Trying to convince yourself that it's all in your head.

But the way Eren’s smiling at you, like he knows more than he’s letting on, makes your pulse race. His eyes linger a little too long, and you wonder if he’s trying to figure something out, too. The tension is palpable, thick enough that even Ymir and Historia seem to sense it. They share a glance, but neither of them says anything. Instead, Ymir kicks you under the table—hard enough to make you wince.

“Aye, stop thinking too much,” Ymir's expression says, clearly reading you like an open book. She doesn't even have to say anything for you to understand what she's trying to say “Just enjoy the moment. Eren’s not going anywhere.” And for the first time today, you almost believe her.

The conversation drifts as you try to settle back into the easy rhythm of lunch. But the moment is short lived. The clatter of trays and the loud chatter of students fills the air, and before you can catch your breath, a new wave of noise arrives.

Reiner, with his usual cocky grin, leads the pack of jocks toward your table. His broad frame and confident swagger draw attention the way Eren’s used to, but this time, you can’t help but notice the way the girls at nearby tables watch Reiner too. He’s got that easy, good-looking charm, but there's something about Eren that just hits different, even now, when the jocks are slowly taking over the cafeteria’s social pecking order.

“Yo, Yeager!” Reiner calls, leaning over the back of your seat, making you jump in surprise. “You ditching us for the weirdos?”

Eren’s arm drops from your shoulders as he shifts his attention to Reiner, but not without a small, teasing grin. “If you’re calling them weirdos, I think you’ve got the wrong table, man.”

A few of the other guys laugh, though it’s more because it’s Eren, and he’s got that goofy, unpredictable humor. The girls now huddled around your table all stand up a little straighter, their eyes darting toward Eren, and you feel a sudden, sharp pang of frustration deep in your chest. You try to ignore it, to keep the casual mask in place, but something’s different now. The subtle tension between Eren and you—it’s like it’s palpable to everyone but the two of you.

Reiner, not one to let Eren off easy, takes a seat beside him, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Come on, man, we’ve got practice in an hour. I’m dragging you back, and we’re gonna talk strategy, not... whatever this is.” His eyes flick over to you, and you swear you catch a hint of amusement in them. It’s like he knows something you don’t.

Eren glances back at you, his expression a little unsure, like he’s debating whether to stay or go. For a brief moment, his eyes soften, but then, in typical Eren fashion, he shrugs and grins, looking more at ease than you feel. A part of you hopes he'll choose to stay, just to reassure you that things really didn't change.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go. But only because you’re begging.” He stands up, brushing his hands off as if he’s wiping away the conversation, like he doesn’t even see the way your heart drops when he stands a little too far away from you now.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words get stuck. All that leaves your mouth is a disappointed huff of a breath. Eren turns back toward you, like he’s about to say something, but then his attention shifts to the group of jocks calling him over.

“Later, y/n!” he calls, throwing a casual wave over his shoulder. “Don’t miss me too much, alright?”

You’re left frozen, your hand still halfway raised as you force a smile, though it feels more like a grimace. Reiner slaps Eren’s back in that overly friendly way he always does, and Eren just laughs, falling into step with him as they make their way to the other side of the cafeteria. You hate the way your stomach twists watching them go. It’s like they’re speaking an entirely different language—one you’re not part of. The table around you is quieter now. Historia looks at you, her expression sympathetic, but Ymir—well, she looks way too smug for your liking.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ymir teases, but it’s not unkind.

You sigh, dropping your gaze to your lunch. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Uh huh,” Ymir replies, that knowing smirk still lingering on her lips. “I’m pretty sure Eren’s just trying to keep his cool in front of the jocks. You’ve seen the way he’s been around you lately. He likes you, trust me.”

You frown, not sure how to respond. Eren might be acting like nothing’s changed, but everything has changed. And the worst part? You’re not sure if he even knows it yet.

“Don’t worry,” Historia sympathetically adds, her tone reassuring. “He’ll figure it out eventually. You’ll figure it out.”

You give a noncommittal hum, not sure if you're ready to figure anything out just yet. But as you glance across the room, watching Eren laugh with Reiner and the others, you can't shake the feeling that something’s coming. Something big. Some type of shift. You spend the rest of lunch pushing food around your tray, pretending not to notice the way your eyes keep flickering toward the jock table.

Eren looks good—annoyingly, frustratingly good. He’s leaned back in his chair, laughing at something Jean said, that lazy grin plastered across his face like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. His long fingers drum absentmindedly against the table, and when one of the cheerleaders—Annie’s friend Hitch, you think—leans in to whisper something to him, your stomach twists.

You snap your gaze away, cursing yourself. Why are you even watching? You’re not his girlfriend. You’re his best friend. And best friends do not sit there like jealous exes just because other girls are realizing what you’ve known for years—Eren Yeager is stupidly, effortlessly attractive.

“You’re making it too obvious.” Ymir’s voice is flat and teasing. You don’t even have to look at her to know she’s smirking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, shoving a bite of food into your mouth just to have something to do.

“Mm. Right. And I’m straight.” Ymir leans on her fist, watching you with open amusement. Historia sighs, nudging her in the ribs before giving you a softer look.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Historia offers, “he hasn’t actually looked at her once.”

Your eyes dart up before you can stop yourself, and— Historia’s right. Eren’s nodding along to something Reiner’s saying, but his gaze keeps drifting. He’s scanning the cafeteria, like he’s looking for something. Or someone. And then, just like that, his eyes find yours. For a second, time stutters.

Eren’s lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting to catch you staring, and for a fleeting moment, something flickers across his face. Something unsure. Something vulnerable. But then Reiner nudges him—too hard, probably on purpose—and Eren snaps out of it, laughing as he shoves him back. And just like that, the moment is gone. You exhale sharply, turning away. You hate this. The push and pull, the way he makes you feel like maybe—just maybe—there’s something more, only to act like nothing’s changed the next second. Maybe nothing has changed. Maybe the only thing different is you.

“You should talk to him,” Historia says gently.

You scoff, picking at your food. “And say what? ‘Hey, Eren, just wondering if you’ve realized you’re hot yet and if that means you’re too good for me now?’”

Ymir cackles, hands drumming on the lunch table as she childishly kicks her feet. “I mean, I would pay to see you say that to his face.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “This is a nightmare. It's never been this complicated with Eren before.” It had always been complicated, but not this complicated.

Historia opens her mouth to say something else, but before she can, the cafeteria doors swing open, and the familiar screech of a whistle pierces the air.

“Football team! Practice starts now!” Coach Smith stands at the entrance, arms crossed, his stoic expression already promising death if they don’t get to moving. The jock table groans, but they all start standing, grabbing their trays. Eren stretches as he gets up, his shirt riding up just enough to show a hint of skin, and you swear you hear one of the volleyball girls sigh dreamily. You roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts.

Eren turns, catching your expression, and grins. “What’s that look for?”

You school your face into something neutral, a deadpan almost. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’ll survive an entire practice without getting distracted by your fan club.”

He blinks, then laughs—like really laughs, loud and unfiltered. “Pfft, fan club? Yeah, right.”

You open your mouth, ready to argue, but then you stop. Because—he’s serious. He really doesn’t see it. All the stares, the whispers, the way girls—entire groups of them—are looking at him like he hung the damn moon. He doesn’t even notice. Eren’s still just Eren, in his own head. You should be relieved. Maybe you are. But mostly, you just feel confused and overwhelmed.

“Well, try not to get tackled into the ground,” you say instead, grabbing your drink to take a sip.

Eren grins, nudging you lightly as he starts to walk away. “Aw, you worried about me, y/n?”

The drink nearly chokes you, the cooing tone of his voice making you feel uneasy and bashful. “Not even a little.”

He just laughs, throwing one last lazy wave over his shoulder before jogging after Reiner and the rest of the team. And you? You watch him go, stomach twisting, hating the way his absence already feels like a weight pressing down on your chest.

The late afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows over the football field. The team is mid-drill, running play after play under the sharp bark of Coach Smith. Eren is breathless, sweat slicking his skin, but his mind isn’t really in it. Not fully, anyway.

Because you’re sitting on the bleachers, and you’re laughing at something Historia just said, and it’s distracting as hell. His gaze keeps flickering toward the bleachers, toward where you’re sitting with your friends. You look relaxed, leaning back with one knee pulled up. He can’t hear a word from this far, but that doesn’t matter. He knows your expressions by heart—every little eye roll, every laugh, the way your lips purse when you’re pretending to be annoyed but aren’t really.

He’s staring again.

“Yeager! Focus!” The loud shout of Coach Smith jolts him out of his trance, but it’s too late. Whooosh.

Eren barely ducks in time to avoid a pass he wasn’t paying attention to. Jean groans in exasperation, throwing his head back and smacking his hands on his pads. “Dude, wake up! What the hell are you even looking at?”

Eren shakes his head quickly, clearing his throat. “Nothing,” he lies, trying to mask the way his heartbeat kicks up. Grabbing the football that he failed to catch, slackly tossing it back to Jean.

Jean, of course, is already following his gaze, his eyes landing exactly where Eren doesn’t want them to. The smirk that stretches across Jean’s face is almost unbearable. “Right. Nothing.”

Eren scowls, shoving Jean as he jogs past. But before he can settle back into formation, something shifts near the bleachers—movement that immediately snags his attention. Someone’s walking up to you. Eren’s brows furrow as he squints. The guy is tall, lanky, his bright red hair messy in a way that seems purposefully unkempt. He’s wearing a ripped band tee, chains dangling from his jeans, and—oh, great. Floch Forster.

The guy moves with a swagger that makes Eren’s teeth grind. Ripped jeans, faded punk band tee, chains dangling from his belt loops—he looks like he just crawled out of a basement concert. Floch has always been a talker, a surprisingly smooth one at that, and judging by the way he leans in, he’s in full flirt mode. Eren watches, growing tenser by the second. He expects you to roll your eyes, wave him off, something. But you don’t. You tilt your head slightly, a small, amused smile tugging at your lips. Why aren’t you moving away? Eren’s jaw tightens. Then Floch takes another step closer. That’s it.

Eren doesn’t even realize his feet are moving until Jean grabs his jersey. “Dude, where are you—?”

“I’ll be back,” Eren mutters, ripping himself free and jogging toward the bleachers before anyone can stop him.

You hadn’t expected company, least of all from Floch Forster. Historia had just nudged you, muttering something about incoming trouble, and before you could even react, there he was—Florian “Floch” Forster, king of misplaced confidence, leaning against the railing like he had all the time in the world. You don’t hate Floch. You don’t like him, either, but he’s harmless enough. He’s always been a little too flirty, but in a way that’s more for show than anything else.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his signature gaudy smirk already in place. “If it isn’t the prettiest girl in the bleachers.”

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, god.”

Floch grins, clearly unfazed. “What? That’s a genuine compliment. You’re breaking my heart here, y/n.” His tone is cocky, almost annoying.

You tilt your head, unimpressed. “Do you even have one?” A grin forms on your face, it felt kind of good to banter and maybe knock him down a peg.

“Oof.” He presses a dramatic hand to his chest, cheesing way too hard. “Harsh. But hey, I like a challenge. Y’know, if you ever wanna find out, I could show you—”

“You couldn’t,” you cut in. It's a little abrupt, shocks Historia a bit at the snappiness, but it just comes out.

Floch laughs, plopping down beside you with zero hesitation. “Alright, alright, I’ll cut to the chase.” He leans back on his palms, eyes flicking toward the football field before settling back on you. “How long are you gonna keep pretending your best friend isn’t in love with you?”

You choke on your drink, sitting up straighter now as you sputter a cough. “Excuse me?”

Floch just raises a brow, looking entirely too smug for your liking. “Come on, y/n. The guy stares at you like you hung the goddamn stars. It’s actually painful to watch.”

Your face burns, but you force a scoff. “You’re delusional.”

Floch shakes his head, watching your reaction closely. “Am I? He’s been in love with you since, what, forever? But the dude’s an idiot, so I get why you’re waiting. He’s probably still convinced you’re out of his league.” Out of his league?

Something about that statement makes your stomach clench. That’s not true. Right? Floch doesn’t miss the flicker of doubt in your eyes. His smirk stretches a little wider, sensing an opening.

“But y’know,” he continues, shifting closer, voice dropping just slightly, “if he’s not gonna make a move, maybe you should let someone else have a shot.”

Your lips part, caught off guard. “What?”

Floch leans in just enough for the air between you to thin, to start smelling like his axe cologne. “I’m just saying,” he murmurs. “Maybe you should let someone who actually sees you take you out sometime.”

Oh, you think, heartbeat stuttering slightly. Although your mind was still half focused on what he said about Eren. Before you can formulate a response, something shifts in the air—sharp and tense.

“Oh, hell no.”

The voice is unmistakable. Your head snaps up just in time to see Eren—sweaty, breathless, and looking pissed—hopping the railing in one effortless motion.

Floch doesn’t move. He just smirks. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Eren doesn’t respond, his fists clenching at his sides. His green eyes—usually filled with something bright, warm—are now dark with irritation.

“What the hell are you doing here, Forster?”

Floch tilts his head, all mock innocence. “Relax, man. Just having a friendly conversation.”

Eren’s jaw ticks. “Yeah? Well, have it somewhere else.”

The tension is thick, electric with an almost uncomfortable tension. You glance between them, unsure if you should intervene. Maybe you should, but all you can do is look up at Eren. The way some strands of hair stick to his forehead, the way his thick brows are furrowed. The way he almost seems territorial over you.

Floch exhales, shaking his head like this is all some kind of joke. He shifts his gaze back to you. “Really? You’re just gonna let him chase me off like that?”

You hesitate. And that hesitation is all Floch needs.

He incredulously chuckles under his breath, standing up and dusting himself off. “Man,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

Eren’s jaw tightens. “See what?”

Floch flashes one last cynical smirk before turning to leave. “Nothing, man. Nothing at all.”

And just like that, he’s gone, his chains jingling as he strolls down the metal steps like he hadn’t just stirred up a storm. The silence he leaves behind is suffocating.

You exhale, crossing your arms as you finally shake out of your daze. “That was so unnecessary.”

Eren scoffs, finally looking at you. “He’s a dick.”

You narrow your eyes. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

Eren looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a split second, something unreadable flickers behind his eyes. His lips part like he wants to say something—something important—but instead, he just shakes his head.

“Forget it.”

And with that, he turns, hopping back over the railing and jogging toward the field without a second glance. But you know better. It wasn’t nothing. And now, you don’t know what to do about it.

Eren doesn’t look at you for the rest of practice. Not once. It’s infuriating. From your spot on the bleachers, you watch as he throws himself back into drills like he’s got something to prove, pushing harder than necessary, muscles taut with tension. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed in concentration—but you know him. You know when he’s actually focused and when he’s just using the game as an excuse to run from something. You also know what—or who—he’s running from.

You exhale, frustrated. It’s not like you wanted Floch’s attention. Hell, you would’ve been fine never speaking to him again. But Eren had stormed over like he owned you, like it was his problem to handle, and now he won’t even look at you? It was all too confusing.

Eren misses a catch from Bertholdt, taking off his helmet and throwing it to the ground with an audible 'fuck!' that echoed around the football field. Running a hand through his sweat drenched hair, the frustration in his face is super evident.

Historia, sitting beside you, hums in amusement. “That was deliciously messy,” she murmurs, sipping from her water bottle. "The whole situation. Possessive Eren, the little bicker, everything."

“It’s annoying.” A scoff leaves your lips and you can't help but stare at Eren with a confused and irritated expression.

“Oh, it’s both.”

Ymir snickers, her sunglass covered eyes looking at the way Eren is still pouting. “Dumbass is jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “He is not jealous.”

Ymir glances at you with an expression so patronizing you want to shove her off the bleachers. “Right. He just lost his entire mind over Floch flirting with you for no reason at all.”

You open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Because—yeah. The thing is, Eren isn’t the jealous type. He’s never been possessive over you before, never given you any reason to think he cared about who talked to you. He’s always been the annoying one—flirting playfully, ruffling your hair, teasing you about your nonexistent love life like it was all some big joke. And maybe it was. Maybe he was just messing around, just playing into the dynamic you’d always had. But today felt different. And that scared you more than anything.

You wait for him by the locker room. It’s a stupid idea. You know it’s a stupid idea. You could’ve gone home, could’ve ignored the way your pulse has been pounding ever since practice ended, ever since he stormed off like you did something wrong. You could’ve pretended it didn’t bother you—the way he looked right through you for the rest of practice, the way his body went stiff when you so much as moved in his direction, the way he threw himself into drills like he was trying to hit something that wasn’t there.

But you’re still here. Waiting.

The late afternoon sun is sinking lower in the sky, drenching everything in a honey-gold glow. It should be pretty, peaceful even, but the knot in your stomach makes it hard to appreciate. The air is thick, humid from the lingering heat of the day, and your skin feels sticky, uncomfortable. The locker room door swings open in intervals, groups of players filtering out, laughing, talking about parties, weekend plans, things you can’t bring yourself to care about.

Then—finally—he steps out. Eren.

You feel his presence before you even see him, your body going still, your heart stuttering in your chest. He looks good. Unfairly so. His hoodie is loose over his shoulders, damp hair falling into his face, a few strands curling at the ends. His skin is still flushed from exertion, the glow of the sunset catching on the sharp lines of his jaw, the hollow of his throat where the collar of his hoodie has slipped down just enough. He’s effortlessly attractive, in a way that makes your stomach twist with something you don’t want to name.

He notices you immediately. Stops in his tracks. Something flickers across his face—something unreadable—but then it’s gone, replaced by a carefully neutral expression, like he wasn’t just throwing a damn fit over you and Floch thirty minutes ago.

Your arms cross tightly over your chest. “You ran off.”

Eren exhales, looking past you, jaw tight and thick brows furrowed. “Didn’t run.” His voice is flat, clipped. You know him too well to miss the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his shoulders are tense even though he’s trying to look casual.

You take a step closer. “Eren.”

His jaw ticks. “What?”

That’s all he says—short, sharp, like a blade cutting through the space between you. It makes irritation flare in your chest, a spark igniting beneath your ribs. He’s the one who lost his mind over nothing. He’s the one who got weird. And now he’s acting like you’re the problem?

You grit your teeth. “Are you seriously mad at me?”

His head snaps toward you so fast it nearly startles you. “Mad at you?” He lets out a dry, humorless scoff, running a hand through his hair, making the damp strands even messier. “I’m not—Jesus, y/n. I just don’t get why you were even entertaining that guy.”

Your stomach drops. The word entertaining rubs you the wrong way, makes your irritation flare into something hotter. “I wasn’t entertaining anyone,” you snap, voice tight.

Eren exhales sharply, shifting his weight like he’s trying to hold something back. “He was all over you.” yeah, he was dragging it.

Your lips press together. “And?”

His eyes darken, flickering with something upsetting, something raw. “And I didn’t like it.”

It’s barely above a whisper, but it slams into you like a physical force. Your breath catches. The words linger between you, heavy, charged with something neither of you can name but both of you can feel. Your heartbeat is erratic, hammering against your ribs. You’re staring at him, searching his face for answers, for clarity, for anything—but he’s already looking away, already forcing his expression into something unreadable, like he didn’t just say something that made your entire world shift on its axis.

He knows. You know he knows. And that terrifies both of you.

He inhales sharply, like he’s about to say something else—but then he stops himself. A muscle in his jaw twitches before he shakes his head. “Forget it.”

“No,” you say quickly, stepping forward, voice urgent, desperate. “Eren—”

But he’s already turning away. Already walking. And this time, you don’t try to stop him. Because the truth is—You’re just as scared as he is.

You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at the space he left behind. Minutes? Seconds? It feels longer than it probably is, but the weight in your chest doesn’t go away. You don’t get it. You’ve had arguments with Eren before. Dumb ones. Stupid ones. He’s annoyed you a million times, and you’ve annoyed him right back. But this? This hurts in a way you don’t know how to process.

Because it felt real. Because it felt like something cracked open between you—something undeniable. And because deep down, in the part of you that you’ve tried to shove away for years, you know the truth: You don’t want him to be okay with other guys flirting with you. You don’t want him to treat you the same way he treats every other girl. And if today proved anything—if the way he reacted, the way he looked at you was any sign—maybe he doesn’t want that either. Maybe he never did.

Eren’s hands are clenched into fists as he walks, barely registering the conversations around him. His heart is still pounding. His body is itching with leftover adrenaline, but it has nothing to do with practice. What the hell was that? His own words play back in his mind, over and over. "I didn’t like it." What the fuck was he thinking, saying that out loud?

He’s been reckless before. He’s flirted with you for years—always playfully, always in a way that he could pass off as a joke. But that? That wasn’t a joke. That was raw, unfiltered, stupid.

Because he can’t have you. Because you don’t see him that way. Because even if you did, he’s not good enough for you. You’re y/n. You’re his best friend. The girl who somehow makes everything in his life feel a little easier, a little lighter, just by being around. The girl he’s been in love with since he was old enough to understand what love is.

And you deserve someone better. Someone who isn’t just figuring out his place in the world. Someone who isn’t Eren Yeager—impulsive, reckless, always getting himself into trouble.

But even knowing that—Even knowing he should stop—He still turns around, just for a second, just to look back. Just to see if you’re still standing there. And when he sees you—arms crossed, head slightly bowed, looking like you’re caught up in your own spiral—It fucking kills him. Because if he wasn’t such a coward, he’d tell you the truth. That he doesn’t just like you. He’s yours. He’s always been yours. But it’s too late now. And it’s all his fault.

[joyful-soul-collector]

Writing Femoral Anteversion

From someone who has it! I figured people who're writing Viktor (or anyone else you'd like to bestow this condition onto) might find this helpful.

For anyone who doesn't know, Viktor is theorized to have severe Femoral Anteversion in his right leg. Mine is not quite as severe as his is, but it's enough to cause problems. Currently my condition has me considering buying a cane at the ripe old age of 22, which is a few years younger than Viktor was in Season 1 Act 1.

Femoral Anteversion looks like this:

This can happen in one or both legs. I have it in both, but it's far worse in my left leg. Viktor's seems to be mainly in his right leg. To be clear, this is NOT the same thing as his lung disease, though it likely exacerbates that disease a bit. The anteversion very likely worsens the problems with his back, but isn't necessarily the cause. Now, lets get into it!

What is Femoral Anteversion?

A wonderful post by @ihavea-natural-curiosity explained that all here, so I'll leave it to that person to explain what it is.

What is it like to have Femoral Anteversion?

Depending on the severity/treatments done for it, it can range from barely noticeable to a constant pain. If we put that on a scale, I'd say my right leg is at a 2-3, and my left is at around a 7-8. Viktor is likely at a 9-10 on his right leg. 8 on a good day.

General Pain Sites: mainly are in the knee, the hip, and lower back. Pain is worsened by long periods of standing, or long periods of sitting. Basically if its in one position for too long, it hurts. For me, it's difficult in school when I have to sit for a long time, and at work, where I stand a long time. Viktor may have more flexibility as he can stand or sit at his job whenever he wants, though if he's low energy that day, sitting for a long time may be his only option.

If standing for too long: (for me that's more than half and hour to an hour, for Viktor it may be more like 15 minutes), pain will start in the lower back, typically on the side of the bad leg, and with each step that spot on the lower back will pop. It's rather uncomfortable, doesn't relieve much pain the way popping a joint normally does. Pain from standing too long tends to be in the lower back, below the kneecap, and on the side of the hip, in the center between the front and back half of the body

If sitting for too long: typically the pain sites change slightly depending on the position, but often it's in the back of the hip, the lower back, and above the kneecap. Sometimes there may also be awkward positions sitting when trying to keep weight off that leg, which ends up hurting your upper back or shoulders too.

Painless: The only position I've found to be completely painless when in it for a long time is laying down on my back, with a pillow under the knees. Takes ALL the strain and weight off of those joints so it doesn't hurt. Only annoying bit is sometimes the REST of my body gets tired of being in that position anyways. I really only do this if it's hurting pretty bad that day because I can't really do anything while laying down like this. Even being on your phone is annoying cuz your arms get tired eventually.

Treating Femoral Anteversion

There's a bunch of treatments for it, the main ones are physical therapy, a brace, and a surgery. Typically none of these are needed because this usually happens in children, most of whom grow out of it. In the people who don't, physical therapy, a brace, and/or surgery may be needed.

The Brace

They usually hug the thigh as the problem is in the femur, the thigh bone. The reason Viktor likely doesn't have one of the top two may be either:

1. Pain, the braces can be rather painful, and with anteversion as severe as his it may have been too much

and/or

2. It may have interfered with his back brace. The bottom brace doesn't work as well, but it is certainly far better than nothing.

To be clear, the most comfortable position for someone with femoral anteversion to be in is with their toes pointed inward. So the brace is not necessarily actually for comfort, it is for overall health. They're rather painful as it forces you're muscles, tendons, and literally bones, to be in a different position than they are naturally. Braces for adults would also have to be worn most hours of the day, and likely forever. In children the brace is taken off after they have grown enough that the anteversion is corrected, but in adults they are done growing, so it must be worn as much as possible.

Generally a brace is not actually the go-to form of treatment for adults, as physical therapy works better and is less uncomfortable for the patient.

Physical Therapy

Physical therapy for femoral anteversion will look like a lot of leg exercises to strengthen the outer leg muscles that will help correct the direction of the femur. It's very possible Viktor does these, or did them when he had the strength. When his disease got worse he may not have had the energy, but if he ever saw a PT in Piltover to help with his leg then they likely had him do exercises every day, possibly in the morning and at night with how severe his case was.

Stopping the exercises would likely mean the leg returns to its previous condition, as the muscles would no longer be maintained and would grow weaker again with time. In which case, the brace would help, and is possibly why Viktor has a brace in act 2 of season 1, but not in act 1.

Surgery

This surgery is called Femoral Osteotomy, and is a rather invasive one as it will change the direction of your whole femur, thus the direction of your whole leg. People often need walkers after this surgery, and can definitely come with complications. The reason Viktor didn't get this done is almost certainly because of his disease. A lung disease increases the risk of complications exponentially, especially with something as invasive as this surgery.

Disclaimer: I personally haven't actually had any of these treatments because I cannot afford them at the moment, though I'm hoping to go into physical therapy soon. The treatment order tends to go PT, brace, and surgery as a last resort.

Daily Life with Femoral Anteversion

Honestly, for most people with this, there's not much difference. They may not even feel any pain. My right leg technically also has femoral anteversion, but rarely hurts. But for people with a more intense case, like my left leg, or Viktor's right leg, there's a few things that can be different, so here's a list of some things that I do because of my femoral anteversion, that might be interesting to include in your writing:

Constantly correcting the direction of the foot. It becomes an unconscious correction after months of practicing, but occasionally it will still happen that you have to consciously move and correct it

Some days hurt worse than others! It can be just how you wake up that morning, or it can be due to activities done that day

Constantly cracking the bad knee. Especially when sitting or standing for too long. I crack my knee probably every few minutes or so when I'm standing for more than 5 minutes

Leaning elbows on a table, crossing the legs at the ankle, and leaning the torso side to side to get a stretch in the hip and potentially pop the lower back. Even deeper stretch by letting the elbows go below the table top and balancing by holding onto the table with just the fingertips.

When turning around, forgetting to move the bad leg too so it ends up turning almost completely backwards. This doesn't hurt, but as soon as I do it I often think "Aw fuck I'm not supposed to do that". Sometimes this makes you trip too.

Tripping over the bad foot when it gets in the way

Massaging or gently hitting the bad knee and hip to help the pain

Preemptively taking painkillers when anticipating a lot of walking or standing. May also do this for sitting, like on a plane or long train ride

It's hard to pop the hip but when it does happen it's both rather painful and instant pain relief. Very similar to popping a shoulder that's been annoying all day

Getting something warm to put on the knee and hip to help with pain. My favorite thing is the Warmies stuffed animals, the added weight feels good too

If without a cane/crutch, or somewhere to sit, then leaning heavily on tables, walls, and railings when in pain. Limping when you can't do that

Pushing the bad leg out to the side to get a good stretch in the hip (In the sexual sense, having the knees spread far apart for a long time would end up painful. Shorter sessions will be fine, but the best positions for something lasting a long time would be ones where the bad leg can be resting on something at a 90° angle or wider at both the hip and knee. A pillow under the knee works perfect. If on top, the person would likely end up leaning on the good leg, and leaning on the bed/a pillow/the other person with their arms to take the weight off the bad leg)

Constantly changing sitting position, generally every 5 minutes, give or take depending on how bad the pain is that day

Sleeping on the side with a pillow or blanket between the knees

Would secretly really really love for someone else to massage your leg because it's so difficult to get the right spots by yourself, especially in your hip.

Aaaaand that's about it! Feel free to ask any questions!

[ghostgirl-22]

you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to but..

patrick spiking arts drink with like viagra or an aphrodisiac and then “helping him out” because he’s such a good friend <3

Oh but I want to!! <3

This is post Artrick and Patashi break up and Patrick and Art end up in Vegas at the same bachelor party for a high school friend. Maybe Art has it coming? Maybe Patrick is like the best friend he’s ever had <3

Heed all warnings cause Patrick is totally remorseless and unlike everyone who does something bad in those old black and white movies I’ve been watching lately, he absolutely gets away with it. Sorry not sorry!

CW: intoxication, secret drugging, cnc, dub con (in the sense that Art doesn’t have all the information, but he wants it, he told me). This is pretty much what it says in the ask. Obviously don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable. Not proofread.

—-

It’s bad and wrong, and wrong, and so fucking wrong.

Patrick might tell the truth later. Might let Art get back at him because even for him this is kinda fucked up. But to be fair, he only did it because he was horny. And maybe he wanted a little revenge.

It all started at the bachelor party. It’s the first time they’d seen each other since Tashi’s injury and everything. 

Both of them trying to put it all aside for their high school buddy Addison’s Vegas bachelor party. He’s hosting it with his husband to be…this older, rich tech company guy. Patrick thinks it’s a bit annoying. Even if he was gonna marry some dude he wouldn’t want the guy crashing his bachelor party— he should have his own and hang out with his own friends. but that’s beside the point. 

Patrick thought Art wouldn’t dare show up because Patrick was always closer with Addison. Art probably thought the same thing about him. And yet…surprise. 

Thankfully they barely have a minute alone together sober. Sober, Art is so cool. 

Cool. 

Cold. 

Icy, even. 

Totally Remorseless. They make small talk. He’s dating her now, the little shit. She’s coaching him. He’s playing Indian Wells in a few months. Patrick ponders hating Art. He doesn’t know if he’s quite there yet but it feels like he’s close. 

He still looks so pretty though. 

It’s a reunion of sorts. A lot of their old teammates came. Addison rented the penthouse suite in the Bellagio, private elevator, crazy views… fifteen guys… seven rooms, not that anyone plans to sleep.

Art and Patrick had been known to read each others minds in the past and it feels like that hasn’t changed. Apparently they’ve silently agreed that the last thing they want is people asking things like… “what the fuck happened? you two used to be so close.” Which is how they end up in this unspoken truce pretending like it’s all normal between them. All the way down to the expectation of them sharing a room. Which is fine because, again, no one is really planning on sleeping.

Everyone meets up in the afternoon and they start in the casino. Getting tipsy on watered down liquor while they all spend way too much money. All of them rich kids, or recovering rich kids. Patrick’s not using his parents money but he’s still reckless like he is, so certain he’s gonna make it all back on the craps table.  Art doesn’t gamble so Patrick decides to make him blow on his dice, as a joke the way girls do in movies. of course he wins it all back and quite a bit more on a real risky bet. It’s annoying in the way. He’s glad he won but it feels like it’s Art that can’t lose. Suddenly everyone at the table is asking him to bless their dice. Like he’s just so fucking lucky all the time. 

Patrick doesn’t push his own luck. Whatever the fuck is left of it.

The whole group cleans up and goes out to dinner in the evening. They catch up on their lives since school and tell silly, fun, embarrassing stories to Addison’s husband to be. Afterwords they go to a show. A magic show. Tipsy and cheering at the tricks like they’re back in 6th grade. It’s easy. It’s fun, actually. He barely has to be alone with Art.

By 11pm they’ve started bouncing around the strip from club to club. Bar to bar. Party to party. Mostly gay bars and drag shows which no one minds because honestly they all just love Addison so much. They’re getting properly drunk now. 

It’s then when Art begins getting attention on a level that even he’s not used to from all these really hot guys… that’s when everything gets messy. Drunk and flushed, Art has no idea how to receive any of it except to turn all his repressed homosexual energy back onto the safest target. Patrick.

“We’ll just pretend to be together, you know? So they stop…touching me.” He explains loudly in Patrick’s ear.

Patrick smiles, just about drunk enough to put up with this bullshit. “Okay…fine… whatever… fuck it.”

It doesn’t feel pretend though, especially when they end up soaking wet at this all night foam party just downstairs in their hotel. It’s way too late at night, so many guys jumping up and down all sweaty and hot. Boys kissing. Touching. Shirts unbuttoned, the music too loud, skin too soft. Art hanging all over him, so drunk they actually start grinding to the music. The bass competing with Patrick’s heartbeat for which can go faster.  Feelings so complicated Patrick might need 24 hours in the psych ward to sort it all out. 

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right? 

Patrick needs a minute. He leaves Art alone, barely able to take anymore. He uses the excuse of needing the restroom. It’s not even a second before at least two guys are swooping in, competing to take his place, one of them their other teammate Lachlan who’s got a wife at home and a child on the way. 

God. 

Patrick needs another fucking drink. Addisons already at the bar and Patrick leans in next to him. 

“What’s that?” He asks Addison as he’s adding powder to his glass.

“It’s a magic pill,” Addison laughs.

”Magic?” Patrick hiccups. 

“Yeah like… like horny candy.” 

Patrick pouts, brows raised in confusion. maybe he’s a little too drunk for this game.

“Viagra. Sometimes i spike my boyfriend— my fiancés drink with it. See.” He holds up a little pill and crushes it under his glass on the bar

Patrick laughs. “Isn’t that kinda fucked up?”  

“Well…I mean… probably yes… but you know he’s older. So I feel like I’m doing this for his ego.” Addison explains.

“Hm,” Patrick ponders. “Have you ever tried it?”

“I’ve had a sip of his drink before when i didn’t want him to know i spiked it. We ended up going at it all fucking night.” Addison grins. “It’s not necessarily for guys our age…but there’s no harm in it as long as it doesn’t last more than four hours i guess. which is easy if you just fuck. Here. You can take one with your… boyfriend? girlfriend?”

the way Patrick feels right now, his dick is so hard he can’t even fathom the point of viagra but he lets Addison drop the pill in his hand anyway. who knows? He’ll be 24 in six months. A proper grown up. maybe his dick will be the next part of his body that will lose the will to live.

“Are you still bisexual Pat?” Addison leans in stroking Patrick’s bare chest. “Cause we’re kinda open and wouldn’t mind trying it with you tonight, and you know… the more the merrier if you want blondie to join us.”

They both glance at Art, dancing all drunk and unabashed between both guys. their hands all over his lithe figure while the speaker blares Bad Romance by Lady Gaga.  

Patrick rolls his eyes and looks back at Addison. “He may be a fucking tease but we both know he would never. But I think I need more to drink before I get back to you.”

“Well…You know where to find us… preferably before this kicks in!” Addison raises his glass. 

Patrick waves to the bartender, fingering the pill in his other hand. Then it sort of hits him like a ton of bricks. This nasty idea. More than a little fucked up. He almost wants to touch himself just thinking about it. 

He orders two drinks. Rum and coke. Nothing crazy different than what they’ve been drinking all night. Crushes the pill into dust under the cold glass and swirls his finger with the powder into the glass he wants to give to Art..

Oh he feels a little gross. Most people around him too drunk… the bartender too busy to notice what he’s doing. 

Art doesn’t think twice; he trusts Patrick so much. What a wonder to betray someone and still think you can trust them so completely. like none of it matters. Art let’s Patrick “save” him from the other boys touching him.

“I swear i feel like Lach was turned on,” he hiccups, swallowing the drink down. “Like I could feel his… you know what.” He continues in Patrick’s ear. 

”Really? Could you?” Patrick asks, dryly. Stupid. He still acts so… innocent oblivious. Patrick just wants to fuck shake him. He’s beyond hating Art. He doesn’t hate him. Could never hate him. He does hate that after all this fucking time he’s still not over him. 

It doesn’t take long for Art to feel it. He’s back to clinging to Patrick. All over him as a way to keep the other boys away. Patrick starts to notice him adjusting himself, getting breathy, getting anxious. Gripping a little too tightly.   

“Uh I need um…um…  is it too hot in here?” He says in Patrick’s ear. “I need water.” 

“What?” Patrick asks like he didn’t hear him. Keeps his body pressed close, hot breath in Patrick’s ear.

“The room… I think I need to go back to the room.” 

Patrick shrugs. They tell a couple of the guys they’re leaving. And of course get teased for being lightweights at 4 in the morning. Only in Vegas. 

Art has his eyes closed, knees knocked together, too drunk, so aroused. He’s resting the side of his head against the wall of the private elevator as they make their way up to penthouse.

”Sleepy?” Patrick asks, standing in his space. 

Art’s all glassy eyed, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide when he gazes at Patrick. “Um… yeah… yeah.” He stammers.  

Patrick smirks, tangles his fingers into Arts damp hair. He hums, eyes closed immediately, lips parted. And then the elevator dings and Patrick lets go. Arts eyes open and he stumbles out behind Patrick. 

In the room Art’s trying to hide it from Patrick. Trying to keep himself together. He drinks a lot of water from the mini fridge. Tries to go in the bathroom but Patirck gets there first. Not to pee or anything, he’s too fucking hard for that. Probably just to keep Art from jerking himself silly over the toilet. 

Patrick strips down to his boxers for sleep. Brushes his teeth in the mirror. The whole time he’s tenting, so ridiculously aroused, thinking of Art squirming, Viagra unknowingly coursing through his system. 

Patrick decides he’s probably not a good person but right now he doesn’t fucking care. 

He reaches inside his boxers to adjust himself before returning to the bedroom, but he has to touch himself just a little first. A few gentle jerks over the length of his dick and he’s catching his breath. He tucks himself up, snug against the waistband of his boxers and takes a few deep breaths. 

When he walks back in the bedroom, Art is sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand down his pants, tugging himself, little soft moans escaping his lips. He panics when he sees Patrick and tries to save face but it’s kinda too late. 

“Uh sorry… uh… it’s not—” 

“You like boys Art?” Patrick teases.

“No… I just… I think I’m overstimulated.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah I… I… it was a lot of touching. I was…” he takes a deep breath. “I mean I know I was a little bit um… turned on when they were…when the three of us were…when I could feel…” 

“When they had you sandwiched between them?”

”Fuck.” He whispers. “yeah a little…i guess more than I thought.” He admits. 

Patrick sits next to him on the bed. “Yeah me too.” He pads his palm over the outline of his own cock. 

Art staring, fingers gripping the sheets as he whispers a barely audible, “Jesus.”  

“We could… maybe… help each other out,” Patrick suggests.

Art looks up at his face, eyes narrowed.

”I mean nothing would change. It’d just be a one time favor between… old friends.”

Art looks down again, knee bouncing. Desperate enough to say: “Okay um…you mean like jerk off together? Like in high school?”

“Or…” Patrick gets on his knees on the floor in front him. 

“Patrick I—I’m not gonna do—“ he stammers. 

“I’m not asking you to… do you want me to do it to you or not?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath and then he nods.

Patrick moves between his thighs and tugs his zipper down further, eases his boxers down and hears Art let out a gentle gasp as his cock is released. Oh it’s painfully full. Poor thing he’s practically humping into Patrick’s mouth the moment he gets contact. 

“Mm, fuck,” Art sighs relieved to get the sensation. Patrick almost wants to touch himself. Can feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears while licking all along the base. Taking his time, swirling his tongue around the tip. He looks up at Art as he does it. He’s got his eyes closed, one hand holding himself upright on the bed and two fingers of his other hand shoved deep into his mouth as he moans around them. 

Oh. Right. Fucking oral fixation. Patrick’s drunk brain vaguely supplies. 

He’s distracted for a minute while kissing along the tip, licking, teasing, sucking and watching Art slide his fingers into and out of his mouth. Gorgeous little thing. 

Patrick severely underestimates how close he is.  And suddenly his face is getting painted with heated pearly liquid. “Oh.. ohfuckfuck’msorry… fuck.” Art groans around his fingers, hitching his hips involuntarily as more and more spurts out. 

Patrick opens his mouth and catches some on his tongue, he can’t help laughing a bit at how fucking crazy all of this is. On the floor of the penthouse suite at the Bellagio and he’s on his knees for his ex best friend who’s all drugged out on harddick medicine, and probably just gave him his first ever facial.

Patrick wipes a lot of it off on his arm and thumbs some of the excess off his cheek and nose, licking it into his mouth. “Well fuck.” He breathes. “You got a lot of that in you.” 

“Oh god…I didn’t mean to…Jesus, Pat look….” Art whines. Somehow he’s still almost as hard as he was before. 

Patrick runs his fingertips gently over the length, still spasming lightly. “You really had fun tonight huh?” 

“Oh fuck… this never… this never h-happens.” He stammers.  

“Really? You don’t get this turned on for women?”

Art presses his lips together, like he doesn’t want to admit to anything. He sits on his hands. “I um…” 

“Why don’t we try this,” Patrick says. “Don’t freak out…”  He goes to his travel bag for lube. 

“What—“ Art begins when he sees it. 

“I said relax,” Patrick says. 

Art leans back on his elbows as Patrick straddles him. “What are we doing?” 

“You already fucking jizzed in my face, just relax. You owe me this.” 

Art takes another shaky breath. Patrick covers his palm in lube and covers Art’s heavy, swollen cock. Art groans and shivers at the feel of it. So fucking sensitive. Patrick eases his own out and then takes them both in hand, lined up he starts jerking. Both of them moaning immediately, like a chorus, the sound filling up the room.

It’s sinful actually. The way it sounds. It’s probably something that would’ve made Art cry when he was 14 and so very afraid of drinking alcohol and swear words and sex before marriage. 

Now he’s moaning like a whore  around his fingertips, hips jerking up into Patrick’s fist, both of their cocks heated and swollen. Patrick is barely hanging on. He wonders if anyone else came home. If they can hear them fucking, neither of them holding back as Patrick moves faster and faster. 

Art falls apart seconds later, come coating Patrick’s palm, dripping between his fingers. and then Patrick’s following shortly after. Shooting spurts of come, aiming some at Art’s bare chest maybe as a little bit of payback. “Take them out of your mouth,” Patrick hisses. Art gazes up at him and slowly pulls his fingers out.   

Patrick pushes him all the way down on the bed and kisses him roughly. Art drawing his knees up, socked feet flat on the bed and arching into it. Tongues and spit everywhere. Patrick taking a minute to replace his lips on Art’s mouth with his come stained fingers. just to feel the eager way Art sucks them in, pulling hard with his tongue. If Art realizes he’s tasting himself, tasting Patrick, he isn’t complaining. 

Patrick pulls out, wet and sloppy and turns Art’s pretty face back into the kiss, deepening it till he’s moaning into Patrick’s mouth. Doing everything he can for more of the sensation. Grinding his hips up, his still heavy cock sliding along Patrick’s bottom. 

“Oh fuck,” Patrick groans because it’s still so hard. “You wanna fuck me?” 

“mm, my god,” is all Art can manage. 

“I won’t tell your girlfriend.” 

That draws him out of whatever messy trance he’s in and Art pulls away from Patrick, panting. “Oh god… why won’t it go away? ‘m is there something wrong with me?” He whines, suddenly teary eyed. 

“Like what?” Patrick asks, carefully. He doesn’t want to over do it.  

“I dunno… I dunno. I’m so… did i drink too much? I just… i just wanna… i feel so fucking horny…and I can’t calm down. I just… i wanna just… fuck. I’m… I’m so sorry, Patrick.”

Tired and drunk and overstimulated from all the sex he starts getting emotional. “I’m so sorry for everything. I think I love you. I think I’m fucking in love with you, Patrick. I think about you all the time when I’m fuck—”

”Okay shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps gently, because the last thing he wants is to feel bad for him on a sentence like that. The last thing he wants is to spiral thinking about the two of them together getting everything they want without him. “You want my help?”

”Yes,” Art sniffles.   

“Here…” he hands Art the rest of the lube. “put this on and just… you can fuck me till you’re all fucked out. just imagine I’m a fucking fleshlight or something.” 

“Really?” He hiccups, and he looks so grateful like he’s gonna cry again. 

“Hey… come on, stop man. Just… I’m doing you a favor. Don’t fucking cry about it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and wipes his nose on the back of his palm. “I’m sorry. you’re right. Thank you so much. I’m sorry.” 

Patrick rolls his eyes and settles onto the pillow. he’s going to hell probably. Art is so fucking drunk, thinks he’s just trying to come down from some normal night where he got too overwhelmed. He thinks Patrick is just being such a good friend. 

It’s so fucking messed up but honestly it also feels really fucking good. Covered in lube. His unbearably repressed ex best friends dick, the same dick he’s been dreaming about since the first time he saw it. That pretty dick pumping in and out of him over and over again. 

“And don’t worry,” he whispers to Art. “it’s not even gay” because Patrick is just helping him relax. “It’s not even real sex I promise.” Even though Patrick can’t count how many times Art comes. Maybe 4, maybe 7. How many times Patrick’s nutted all over the pristine hotel sheets. He knows he’s managed to spill at least 3 times before Art is finally done, done. And Patrick is covered in his come and sweat and spit and tears he couldn’t be happier.

Art nearly wets himself in his rush to get to the bathroom after it all. Probably just relieved to finally be able to go. 

Patrick is so pleasantly sore and drunk and warm. He’s still covered in the sticky mess of it, knowing it’ll be much grosser on waking but he can’t bring himself to move. Art stumbles, back into the king sized bed, moving away from the wet spot but still burying his head near the crook of Patrick’s head and shoulder. So yummy.

He’ll probably tell Art at some point, maybe. Possibly. But right now the city is hungover, the sun is peeking in through the black out curtains and Patrick hasn’t felt this satisfied in a very long time. So easy… he drifts off into a peaceful sleep. 

(Flop era going strong. Sorry so long y’all. I couldn’t stop yapping.)

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

Dating/ Relationship headcannons for eyeless jack? For female reader, please! Thank you!

Haha so like believe it or not I’ve started writing dating headcanons shortly after posting my general NSFW headcanons…. And then I got distracted

Also um so like me when I said I was gonna answer a bunch of requests over spring break and then proceeded to not answer a single one after that…. SO YEAH IM WORKING ON IT

Anyways…

𓆩♡𓆪 Creepypasta boys dating headcanons 𓆩♡𓆪

+love languages as a bonus

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, BEN drowned, X Virus, Tim/Masky, Brian/Hoodie

Jeff the Killer

☠︎︎ physical touch, he’s very used to touch being used in a negative way, towards him or by him so soft touches would make him melt

☠︎︎ likes to have you in his lap

☠︎︎ like wdym you need a chair he’s right here???

☠︎︎ he flirts with you by being sarcastic and snarky ☠︎︎ so like you might think he hates you at first before you realize he has a crush on you

☠︎︎ not great with his words/expressing his feelings

☠︎︎ you’d need to have thick skin to be with him, because he will definitely say things he doesn’t mean during an argument

☠︎︎ and he LIKES to argue, so if you hate conflict he’s probably not for you

☠︎︎ jealous and a bit possessive too, so you’d have to be careful about how you talk to other people and how often you do so

☠︎︎ he needs a LOT of reassurance and attention but he won’t ask for it directly, he’ll just get snappy and mean without an explanation

☠︎︎ it’s not always obvious why he’s upset so he’d need to be with someone who is both perceptive and patient

☠︎︎ he’s not the best at figuring out why you’re upset, so direct communication is best for him

☠︎︎ ride or die tbh, he doesn’t like very many people so if you’ve somehow wooed him you ain’t ever getting away

Ticci Toby

✘ touchtouchtouch

✘ he can’t feel pain or temperature so he values the things he can feel

✘ his hands are always on you in some capacity

✘ he’ll have his arm around you, he’ll hold your hand, and he LOVES it when you hold his arm

✘ he’ll also bear hug you and pick you up whenever he sees you (and he expects you to run into his arms)

✘ kinda OBNOXIOUS lol, like he’s the type of bf who does shit to annoy you just because he likes to see you get all riled up

✘ pokes your nose, licks your face, bites you, anything to get your attention

✘ no press is bad press

✘ the way he expresses love and affection is… unconventional

✘ like will sometimes just be so over the top and cannot read the situation

✘ he’d be very blunt in how he feels about you and generally is uninhibited when speaking about his feelings

✘ This can sometimes lead to issues so would need thick skin if you’re gonna date him

✘ he’s spontaneous and super energetic so you either need to be someone who can match that energy or super go with the flow

✘ has trouble seeing things from your perspective sometimes, but in an argument he doesn’t get all heated he just shuts down

✘ so he’d definitely do better with someone who’s not very temperamental

✘He’s a wild ride but if you can be down with all he’s got going on, he’ll stay in a long term relationship

Eyeless Jack

𖤐 gifts! He would definitely be bringing you back little trinkets

𖤐 it could be fun and pretty things he’s found while he’s out or little snacks/your favorite drink, etc

𖤐 just anything he can bring you to show you he was thinking of you

𖤐 treats you like you are dainty because he’s scared of breaking you

𖤐 he loves so gently

𖤐 makes sure you know you are valued by him

𖤐 regularly tells you he loves you, that you’re beautiful, he appreciates you

𖤐 plans the cutest dates and really likes to take you out

𖤐 the dates would be super tailored to what you’re into

𖤐 arguments are more like open discussions and he genuinely wants to help you change and grow as a person

𖤐 he’s a bit protective and only slightly jealous, no more than anyone else really

𖤐 he doesn’t want to hold you back in anyway really so he doesn’t often tell you what to do

𖤐 he would do best with someone who’s softer and less judgmental, he has a lot of shame around his eating habits and feeling like a monster

𖤐 he tends to give more than he takes so he’d do better with someone who’s also very generous that way there’d be equal dynamics between you two

BEN drowned

⚠︎ quality time, but not so much in the way of just liking to be around, he likes if you actually make plans to see him, even if it’s just to hang out

⚠︎ loves to play video games with you and he gets competitive

⚠︎ somewhat like Toby he is a little shit!

⚠︎ like he just LOVES to annoy the fuck out of you

⚠︎ he just thinks you’re wayyyy too cute when you’re angry

⚠︎ really likes to show off who he’s with

⚠︎ will buy you clothes, makeup, etc really anything to doll you up and show you off

⚠︎ once you are official he will be telling everyone in the existence of ever

⚠︎ especially because…

⚠︎ he’s SUPER POSSESSIVE like oh god HE’S SICK

⚠︎ like if someone LOOKS at you a little too long he’s got a problem

⚠︎ god forbid someone hits on you

⚠︎ but rather than taking it up with you, he just secretly ruins their life

⚠︎ he may not always be the best partner, he can lack empathy at times and arguments with him are a nightmare because he will twist your words and may manipulate you lightly

⚠︎ will randomly come through when it really matters

⚠︎ would do better with someone who’s (and forgive me here for my choice of word) a bit tsundere-like

⚠︎ he likes someone who takes effort to win over because he loves the chase

⚠︎ he also likes if you’re easy to embarrass or get a reaction out of

⚠︎ your relationship will feel like constant push and pull

X Virus

☣︎ acts of service

☣︎ Cody is a problem solver and will do what he can to make you happy and help you when there’s things troubling you

☣︎ at the same time, he has periods where he gets really invested into what he’s studying and may not pay attention to you for days

☣︎ so if you’re caring and will support him while he gets like that >>>>

☣︎ like bringing him food, helping with his laundry, etc (daily tasks he would need to do but he’s too hyper focused to take care of himself)

☣︎ you may have to convince him to shower during these periods

☣︎ would likely be pretty inexperienced in romance

☣︎ would defo be one of those guys that gets exponentially hotter after getting a girlfriend because she teaches him how to dress and be presentable

☣︎ rambles on about his experiments so you would ideally be a good listener and someone who will engage with him even if you have no idea what he’s talking about

☣︎ not super jealous but has CRAZY accurate senses when it comes to someone actually liking you and subtly flirting with you

☣︎ it’s like a siren goes off in his brain and then he’s like “not that person”

☣︎ pussy whippedddddd like once he’s into you you’ve got him on his KNEES

☣︎ got him opening doors and carrying heavy stuff like shittttttt

Tim/Masky

꩜ acts of service

꩜ Tim is not always the best with his words and can be kind of awkward so he’d rather just do things to show he cares

꩜ protective almost in like a dad way, like would make sure your car had all the fluids and maintenance it needs (can u tell I know nothing about cars)

꩜ or you’d randomly mention something you want and it’ll magically appear

꩜ he’s very practical, so dates and anniversaries are not too over the top, he keeps it simple

꩜ he’d do best with someone who’s more chill and laid back

꩜ he’s slow to open up and not the best at discussing his feelings so someone who is patient & perceptive is better for him

꩜ if it’s cold he always wants you to take his jacket (also loves to see you in it)

꩜Chivalry ain’t dead while he’s around

꩜ doesn’t get jealous often, he’s pretty mature

꩜ he’s very closed off and secretive about the parts of his life that he’s not proud of, so he’d need to be with someone who’s comfortable with not knowing everything

꩜ this also means it would take you a while to meet Masky

☆ Masky isn’t around all that often so you won’t get a ton of attention from him

☆ he views you as more of a pet than a girlfriend

☆ will give you the occasional head pat or say something flirtatious which often borders on sexual harassment

Brian/Hoodie

𖣐 words of affirmation

𖣐 he likes to be told that he is valued!

𖣐 but also loves to compliment you, and he is quite charming

𖣐 LOVES to tease

𖣐 he’s constantly taking pictures of you or recording you

𖣐has a picture of you in his wallet

𖣐 writes you little love notes and hides them in places you’ll find them easily

𖣐 he’s really perceptive so you can’t easily hide your feelings around him

𖣐 he will call bullshit if you try to say “no, I’m not mad” because he KNOWS

𖣐 not really jealous at all tbh

𖣐 if someone hits on you he takes it as a compliment

𖣐 like yeah he knows you’re hot

☹ You don’t see Hoodie for a while

☹ because lowkey he acts like a stalker at first even though you’re dating Brian and therefore also him

☹ he wouldn’t just come up and approach you, he has to be a weirdo and watch you from the shadows

☹ like just come talk to me you freak

☹ he will also leave you letters but they’re a little more sinister than Brian’s and in places that are off putting

☹ eventually he’d approach you, but like Masky he more so sees you as something to toy with rather than a girlfriend (even though his affection for you is definitely deep in there somewhere)

Hope you enjoyed :3

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 10/11

Week [1] [2] [3] [4/5/6] [7] [8] [9]

Alright 9-1-1 is back (obviously) so very Buddie heavy and also a dive into the phone sex tag. Thank you authors for your service. 🫡

This is week 10 and 11 because sometimes you crash someone's Disneyland vacation and that takes a focus😋 (truly week 11 was like 4 fics)

Sterek: 2 Buddie: 17

A Pauper's Prince (Revised) by Welsh_Woman | @welshwoman1988 (2023•E•83.6K)

Thrown together by duty and honor, Stiles Stilinski of Beacon and Derek Hale of Triskia must not only navigate the trials of marriage, but also secrets from their past that seek to destroy them, the labyrinthine social life that tries to separate them, as well as pains that come from those that they believed in their corner. If they're lucky, they may just make it out of all of this alive. If they're really lucky, they may just find a love that will overcome all.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis) | @dsudis (2013•M•116.6K)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

call me (when you need) by littleghost | @ghostlandtoo (2025•E•7.4K)

Buck knows what he’s asking. It’s been days since Eddie last called, since he left Buck desperate and aching in his bed, and Buck hasn’t touched himself since. He didn’t do it consciously. Buck just hasn’t been in the mood—or maybe it’s because, at the back of his mind, he remembers Eddie telling him not to come. Buck just has to wait for Eddie to come back home—he can wait. He can be good.

while i think of you by markofalover | @markofalover (2025•E•4.2K)

Just Buck speaking, apparently, is enough to get him hard. His brain starts hurting. Like he’s guzzled down a Big Gulp sized Icee in the summertime.

…or, Eddie slowly loses his mind and has phone sex about it.

Atomic Spiral by ameliahart | @melliehart (2025•E•13.3K)

And Eddie’s not jealous, of course not, that’s Buck’s thing. He thinks wryly of Tommy and sprained ankles, and an embarrassing fondness fills his chest. Buck’s so— Buck, wholly and completely, and Eddie misses him, is all. But that’s not why he’s doing it, honest. These people don’t appreciate Buck for who he is, not the way Eddie does. He just wants the best for Buck, okay? *** Eddie brings Christopher home from Texas to find that in his absence, Buck’s started sleeping around. Eddie is completely normal about that. (Or, Eddie starts cockblocking Buck. Things escalate from there.)

It Still Gets Cold in Texas by jukoist | @beforejuko (2025•M•9.5K)

Cara Alvarez of the El Paso Fire Department knows exactly two things about her new coworker Eddie Diaz. One: Diaz has a husband named 'Buck', who he left back in LA. Two: Diaz is Extremely Annoying about how much he misses his husband, the aforementioned 'Buck'. Or; Eddie moves to El Paso, and his new coworkers come to certain assumptions. Eddie... does not correct these assumptions.

when you're ready by becausebuckley | @becausebuckley (2025•T•4.3K)

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a shuddery breath. “I was right,” he says, voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears, “when I said I didn’t know what I’d do without you.” “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” Buck says, and that’s almost enough to set Eddie off all over again. or: eddie moves to texas. three weeks later, he comes home.

you could do it on your own (while you're lookin' at me) by jbegins (2025•E•1.9K)

“But, ah, just a quick–” Buck trails off, gaping down at the tablet in his hands. He has to be hallucinating. There’s no way this is what Eddie has been looking at, right? His disbelief doesn’t come from the fact that Eddie has been perusing PornHub in the middle of the day; Buck would be a hypocrite for having an issue with that. The problem is that Eddie, his straight best friend, is halfway through a video titled Tattooed Hunk Gives Best Bro His First Gay Experience. Right there on the screen, Buck can see a dark haired man, naked and arching his back off of a couch. His hands are gripped tightly in the curls of the aforementioned “tattooed hunk,” who is deepthroating the dark haired man, his own cock in hand. or, another 8x08 fic where eddie was looking at porn instead of homes.com

the good shit in life is always free by jaekyu (2025•E•10.1K)

“Because I think it would be hot,” Buck responds. Eddie can picture him, leaning against the red bricks around the back of the firehouse. It’s where Eddie would hide, sometimes, so he could call Christopher. Before he came to El Paso, after it started to embarrass him how much he’d call and receive no answer. Eddie imagines the sun shining down on Buck, his ankles crossed and his hips tilted away from the wall behind him. Maybe a hand in his pocket. So nonchalant, as he asks about it. “It would be hot if you did it just because I asked you.” They travel the length of space and time between Point A and Point B; Buck and Eddie, over the phone, and Buck and Eddie, in person.

My lover’s got humour, she’s a giggle at a funeral by Moonraeken (2025•E•21.7K)

"I hear you, Eddie," Frank said slowly. "But, let me ask you this: Why does the idea of marriage with a woman make you so anxious? You’ve already created a family, in a way, with Chris. And... with Buck, haven’t you?" Eddie stiffened at the mention of Buck. His mind immediately flashed to moments - silent ones, shared glances between the two of them, a lingering touch, a way Buck understood him in a way no one else ever could. But he quickly buried those thoughts. He couldn’t go there. Not now. "I... Buck's not the same thing," Eddie said, shaking his head. "We’re just... we're friends. We work together. That’s all it is." Frank raised an eyebrow, his expression one of quiet understanding. "It sounds to me like you’ve already built a family with Buck, Eddie. A partnership - two parents, one child. You’ve been there for each other. You've supported each other in ways that go far beyond just friendship. Doesn't that feel normal to you? Comfortable? ~~ Eddie’s journey of self-discovery begins when he buys a sex toy, sees Frank, and has a chat with Brian. Maybe a little bit out of the order but they help him finally understand and accept his sexuality.

good dogs don't run away by withmeornotatall | @chronicowboy (2025•GA•1.1K)

"I, um, well..." Eddie shrugs, all nervous bashfulness that makes Buck want to put him in his pocket, maybe his ribcage, just to keep him close, safe. "I'd ask you to move in, but..." "Hate to break it to you, Eddie." His lips curl around the name differently now. Or maybe they don't. Maybe he's always said Eddie's name like it was his favourite word, a plea, a prayer. "But I've got another month of rent down on this place, so if anyone was asking anyone to move in, it'd be me." (OR: they're roommates, partners, best friends, what else is there?)

Ours by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•GA•1.3K)

“Home sweet home.” Buck mumbles, stumbling as he tries to kick his shoes off. Eddie doesn’t correct him, tell him that it’s not his yet, because that’d be a lie. This place has been Buck’s home for nearly as long as it’s been Eddie’s.

you're more than a heart can take by Elgney (2025•M•19.6K)

“Come on, you’re telling me you wouldn’t consider sneaking into a storage closet with me?” “Obviously, I would!” Eddie was whisper-yelling now, and Buck wasn’t sure exactly what point he was trying to make, but he was enjoying every second of this. “But one of us is going to have to have restraint and it has to be the—the one with the most experience.” Buck felt his mouth drop open in delight. “Eddie,” he admonished. “Are you calling me a whore?” “No!” said Eddie, looking increasingly flustered. “I just mean—clearly you have the power to do—” he gestured at Buck, “that, so you have the—the responsibility to, like, use it. Responsibly.” “Did you just quote Spiderman?” Eddie propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands, groaning dramatically. “I’m going to die. The first date, and I’m going to die.” “Been there, wouldn’t recommend it.” --- Buck and Eddie and the first date.

til my lungs give out by dracculaura | @dracculaura (2025•E•16K)

“Is your offer still on the table?” “Of course it is, Eds. It’s always on the table. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, okay? I’ve got your back, remember?” “Okay,” Eddie answers, but Buck can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. “Eddie, you know I’d do… anything for you,” Buck says, heart beating so loud in his chest that he doesn’t know how his neighbors can’t hear it. But he’s going to say this, finally, he has to, because he’s sure it’s the only thing that will get through Eddie’s thick skull. “I’d bleed myself dry if you asked me to.”

i find your name, etched behind the frame by wafflesofdoom | @capseycartwright (2025•GA•1.6K)

Buck had always felt like he belonged, in Eddie’s house. It was one of the things Eddie had noticed, right away, when they’d become friends – Buck had just felt like he belonged, right from the beginning, his spare sneakers next to Eddie’s own on the rack, Eddie’s wardrobe filled with Buck’s clothes, half the ingredients in the kitchen bought by Buck. He was such an integral part of their lives, and Eddie wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. He didn’t want it to end. coda for 8x09.

Video Phone by Eros Heartache (Eros_Heartache) (2025•E•1.2K)

Buck gets a late night call from Eddie in Texas.

I'll take your chaos and your crooked in a heartbeat by heartbeatdiaz | @lonelychicago (2025•T•6.1K)

He shakes his head, trying to clear the thought before it can settle. Eddie isn’t dead. He’s in Texas, doing what’s best for Christopher. And Buck—Buck has to get over whatever this is. Swallowing hard, he moves to grab one of his own boxes, dragging it toward the hallway. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. A single, forgotten cardboard box in the far corner of the living room. In big, black letters, written with marker, it reads: EDDIE — KEEP. It’s not one of his. He is sure of that. or: Eddie leaves a very important box behind and Buck spirals.

Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (2024•E•73.6K)

Buck has always been like this, and he thinks he always will be. Eddie's not about to accept that as an answer. The fae world - and Buck's family secrets - have other ideas.

Held Up a Lightning Rod (Wonder Why I'm Struck) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels | @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (2024•E•128.7K)

When Eddie Diaz stumbles his way into money, he finds himself one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles - to his dismay. He needs a way to get people off his back without confessing his messy marital situation, and Shannon's still not answering his calls, so he caves to a friend's suggestion: hire someone to pretend to be his partner. Enter Evan "Buck" Buckley: sugar baby, fire fighter, and the man about to turn Eddie's world upside down.

[compress1repress]

i feel like i never read abt patrick getting aftercare 😭 i feel like it's usually regulated to bottom art fics since he comes across as more in need of affirmation? but we all know pat is just as hungry for that shit, probably on an even deeper fear-rooted level. like i think he's usually a yapper and bounces right back but once in a while gets super quiet and it freaks artashi out. he makes me think of that daredevil tweet that's like "[patrick zweig] cries before and after sex but never during. during sex he has a fucking JOB to do"

yasss boy loves to be smacked around and degraded by the ppl he loves! boy has also been alone for 12 years! boy has mad abandonment issues! boy probably has sexual trauma from being on the road! in conclusion: boy needs to be squeezed and headscratched and loved on 🙏 artashi im beaming you a mission from god

ok sorry I wrote a 4k+ word fic (that got a bit dark) in response to this 😭 but let me ramble first:

I think about this a LOT (my throuple fic that I'm in the process of writing gets into this a little, and artashi will be giving him that aftercare 🙏) but yeah he has been SO lonely he needs to be hugged so bad but he would never say that.

i think safewords would be such an issue for him because he would be terrible at using them. or if they don't have specific safewords he's just bad at expressing when something is too much for him. Because he loves to be degraded and he's a masochist so he loves pain even when it hurts too much because it feels good... mostly. but when it gets to a point of not feeling good or he's just not in the mood for it that day, he refuses to say that

it's partially an ego thing, that he wouldn't want to admit that he couldn't take something but also i think it ties up with him needing to sleep with people for a place to stay and the weird power dynamics of that

Anyway I got struck with inspiration so here's the fic :)

art x tashi x patrick

cw: nsfw mdni, consent issues, rough sex, blood

***

1.

It had been a particularly rough session, like it often was. The way Patrick loved. Having them shoving him around, pushing him down, humiliating him, degrading him. It was working for him until it wasn't.

He was laid out on his back, Tashi was riding him as Art made out with her. They often did this, a punishment for him when he'd been annoying (on purpose). They'd fuck him but basically ignore him, only focusing on eachother. Like he was a toy for them to use however they liked. It was fucking hot.

Today though it made nausea swirl in his stomach.

Did they even want him here? What's to stop them doing this with any random guy off the street? What if they got bored of him, replaced him, and then he was on his own again?

He tries to shake it off because he's into this, and they don't always ignore him. They only do it when he's purposefully driven them to it, because he wants it.

He tries to grab at Tashi's waist even though he's not allowed. Neither of them look at him as Art pushes his hand off and Tashi brings a hand across his face, the sound of the slap echoing.

She does it a lot, it gets him off, except because she's not looking she hits slightly off, catching his nose with her wedding ring.

The pain radiates and he brings a hand up to his nose. Blood. Shit.

His dick twitches at first but then the pain gets worse, a deep aching. That combined with the fact that it was her wedding ring, identical to Art's. The wedding rings they have because they are married to eachother. That Patrick doesn't have because he's not part of that. Not connected to them in any meaningful way.

He feels wetness at the corner of his eyes, willing it away because it's fucking stupid. And Art and Tashi haven't finished yet so he's got to hold on. He can handle a bloody nose, he's not a pussy.

They haven't noticed so he doesn't say anything, trying to just focus on the feeling of Tashi warm and tight around him, of the sight of Art's back, his muscles flexing as he rubs at Tashi's clit.

He can almost cope but then because he's lying down, he feels the blood block his nose, starting to unpleasantly drip down the back of his throat. He's trying so hard to hold on, doesn't want it to end, doesn't want to look weak.

Suddenly the feeling of it at his throat is too much and he starts to cough, sitting up and spluttering.

"What the fuck," they both say in unison turning to him.

Then they take him in properly. He probably looks a mess, blood around his nose and now coming out of his mouth as he spits it out.

"What happened?" Art's asking, his eyebrows drawn together as a vaguely horrified look crosses his face.

"Was that me?" Tashi's sliding off him now, worry in her voice.

"We don't have to stop, it looks worse than it feels," he assures, even though it feels pretty fucking bad, "it's fine, I think you just clipped me in the nose with your ring."

He's smiling at them but they just look more concerned.

"Patrick, why didn't you use the safeword?" Tashi asks, more confused than angry.

They did have a safeword, even though Patrick didn't feel like he needed one. It was more for Art and Tashi than it was for him.

He'd suggested something tennis related but Tashi had vetoed saying it might be confusing in case they were just using that word normally, not in the safeword way.

Patrick had asked why the fuck Novak Djokovic would come up naturally during sex but Art had just agreed with Tashi.

They settled on bumblebee in the end, which felt a little ridiculous but he figured it didn't matter since he wouldn't be using it.

"I didn't use the safeword because I'm fine, a little blood isn't going to keep me down," his insistance is undermined somewhat by the way his voice sounds, so he coughs a little more to clear his throat.

Then he's having a coughing fit which just makes everything worse because his eyes are watering like crazy now. It might look like he's crying or something.

"Shit, Patrick," Art is scrambling over to tap him on the back, "are you okay?"

Once he stops coughing, he responds, "yes, let's get back to it."

"I don't think any of us want to carry on, you don't have to-" Art starts but Patrick interrupts.

"I'm not doing anything, I'm being serious, I think it's hot," he grins at them but it comes out strained, "I can be into blood."

"No one's asking you to be into it," Tashi tells him, an edge to her voice.

Art's rubbing his back and Tashi's staring at him intently, probably looking at the way his eyes are still damp.

"I know, I just mean I'm not crying over a slap or something," he feels the need to say, "I like it."

"No one would think you're a pussy for using the safeword," Tashi tells him, "we have one for a reason."

"Especially if you are literally choking on your own blood," Art jokes, before getting solemn, looking deeply at him, "Patrick, seriously, it's fucking scary."

"Alright, in the future I'll try to have less scary sex injuries," he teases.

"No, in the future you'll use the safeword," Tashi cuts in, tone stern

"Alright," he holds his hands up, smiling.

"I mean it, Patrick, it's not funny," her face is absent of anger, that's how he knows she's being earnest, "you've got to promise me you'll use it."

He doesn't say anything so she continues.

"I won't fuck you if you don't," she threatens.

"Sure," he nods, trying to keep some levity, and because he knows Tashi couldn't keep that promise. She can tell what he's thinking.

"Fine, I'll make him stop fucking you," she points to Art. Oh, she's serious.

He looks to Art who just shrugs.

"Fine, I promise to use the safeword," he sighs but looks Tashi in the eyes, hoping that she'll know he means it. She must because she nods at him satisfied.

"Oh thank god, I was really going to miss fucking you," Art whispers in his ear.

"Yeah?" Patrick smirks trying to lean in to Art but he bumps his nose sending a shock wave of pain, "shit."

"But we're definitely not doing that today," Art gives him a kiss on the shoulder instead.

Before Patrick can call him a killjoy he sees Tashi glaring at him, so he adjusts his answer, "yeah ok, no more fucking today."

"Good," Tashi stands up, "now I'm going to get you a towel, and you better hope none of that blood got on my sheets."

He smiles to himself. She's looking after him. It's very sweet.

As she heads to the bathroom, Art moves to sit in front of him, "you look crazy."

"Wish you'd been the one to do it?" He can't stop himself saying.

"Patrick," is all Art says, pleading, warning and exasperated all at once.

"I was joking," he tries but Art just sighs.

He reaches a hand to the corner of Patrick's eye, swiping with his thumb, he doesn't say anything more except, "I'm getting you a painkiller."

When they both come back they work together to clean him up, it's really not that much blood, and he spat most of it into his hands. Still, Tashi is precise in the way she dabs the towel at his face, avoiding pressing too hard or too close to his nose.

As Tashi rubs his hands, Art uses his forefinger under Patrick's chin to tilt his head up, putting two ibuprofen on his tongue. He even holds the glass of water to Patrick's mouth.

He swallows the pill, and Art rubs his back again, softly. Tashi keeps cleaning him, even when he knows the blood must be gone, inspecting his hands, holding his face to make sure it's all gone.

He thinks this might be the most they've touched him without fucking him. Well, since he'd 'moved in' at least. Might be the most anyone's touched him, non-sexually, in the past decade. He tries not to think about.

Doesn't want to ruin how nice this is. Maybe using a safeword wouldn't be so bad.

***

2.

Patrick hadn't been in the mood today, it was a rare occurrence but it happens. Art and Tashi clearly had been, so Patrick had gone along with it.

On the couch watching some bullshit home renovation show that Tashi put on when she wanted to pretend like they were actually going to watch TV. Patrick had observed the way they got closer, Art rubbing at Tashi's thigh as she kept directing his hand up further.

He liked watching them like this, it was still nice this time but he just couldn't find it in himself to get horny. They kept looking over at him and he felt the need to insert himself, joining in at Tashi's other side, kissing at her neck. He's sure it will come to him soon.

It doesn't, even as they all stumble into the bedroom, making out, getting each other undressed until they were all naked. Patrick lay out, enjoying watching them, being close to them, but he just wasn't horny.

He could just watch them fuck, he's done it before, but the fun of that is that Art and Tashi get to see how bad he wants them. How he can't have them. He'll sit watching, dick straining through his pants if he's tied up, or furiously jerking off if he's not.

But that only works if he's hard. They're not going to want him sitting there, flaccid and not interested in fucking them. He's no use to them like that. What's the point of him being in the room? He'll probably have to go sleep in the guest room while they fuck it out.

What's the point of him even being here at all, if he's not going to fuck them? Isn't that why they're letting him stay? Isn't that why anyone lets him stay?

"Patrick," Art snaps him out of his thoughts, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, just zoned out," he looks up at them.

"Right," Tashi says, slow.

Before they can think about it too much he pushes himself up to join again, make himself useful, prove why he's here. He grabs the back of Tashi's head pressing his lips to hers, letting Art come up behind him, his front against Patrick's back.

Tashi pushes at him, wanting him to turn to Art, meaning she wants them to kiss for her. He can work with that. He's not getting hard but he can work with it.

Tashi's at his back now, kissing his neck, he connects his and Art's lips, trying to make it good. He wonders how long he can get away with it.

"I want you to fuck me," he whispers to Art.

"How bad?" Art asks, but then, shit, he's reaching his hand down his body, "Patrick?"

"Yeah?" He pretends not to know what Art is asking.

"What's wrong?" Tashi rests her chin on his shoulder.

"He's not-" Art starts but Patrick stops him.

"That's why I said I wanted you to fuck me, don't need my dick for that," he tries to lean back in but Art pulls away. Patrick tries not to let it sting.

"I don't think he's going to want to fuck you if you're not into it," Tashi interjects.

"We can do doggy style, that way he'll never know," Patrick attempts but clearly it isn't funny to them, "I just mean, I'm sure little Patrick will perk up after some action."

"Don't fucking-" Art starts before adjusting himself, "if you're not in the mood it's okay."

"I'll get in the mood, or" he has an idea, slipping off the bed, getting on his knees, "I can blow you, let you use my mouth."

"Not the point Patrick," Tashi narrows her eyes.

"Don't worry I won't leave you out, you can sit on my face after," he grins at her.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Tashi's suddenly snapping, desperation tinging her words, "of course we don't want to fuck you when you're not into it, who do you think we are?"

"I know," he gets out, voice small.

"Then why are you so insistent?" Art cuts in.

"It's what I'm here for."

What I am for, in general. He wants to say.

"Is that what we're for?" Tashi raises an eyebrow at him.

"It's your house," is all he can think to say, but it's clearly wrong because both their faces drop.

"What and you're paying your way here with your body or something, is that what you think?" Tashi's angry, and all he can do is stay knelt, "we're your fucking pimps?"

"Well technically you'd be Johns, since you're the customers," he jokes.

Tashi just stands up and starts getting dressed silently, before walking out, closing the door behind her. Then he's just left kneeling, staring up at Art.

Art turns away, reaching for his clothes too. Patrick can't even move, just left naked and alone.

"Get up here," Art speaks, shaking Patrick out of his thoughts, "and put some clothes on."

He finally gets up, grabbing his boxers, pulling them on silently before taking a seat next to Art on the edge of the bed.

"I don't get it, since when would you sleep with someone, not for your own pleasure?"

"Are you calling me selfish?" Patrick smiles.

Art finally returns it, "yeah, I am."

Tashi comes back in, standing with her hands on her hips but she looks on edge, "Are you ready to be serious now?"

You came back. He doesn't say that.

She looks between them both, "why are you smiling?"

"Art was telling me how selfish I usually am," Patrick explains.

Tashi's lips twitch at that and she moves to sit on the bed with them, on Patrick's other side.

"That's why I'm confused, it's not like you to be like this," her voice goes softer, "you really think we're that awful?"

"It's not a big deal okay, it's not about you," he just wants to move on.

"Do you actually think we'd kick you out for not fucking us?" Art looks nervous, fiddling with his fingers.

"I don't know," Patrick does know, but he's not going to say. Not going tell Art he's scared of being alone again, "it happens."

"What do you mean?" Art asks.

Patrick groans, falling back and throwing an arm over his face, "nothing."

It makes him feel like a child.

"Patrick, you know when I saw you at the hotel with that woman, how often do you do that?" Tashi pushes not letting him off, and shit, she's too smart.

"What woman?" Art questions.

"Don't be jealous," Patrick interjects but they both ignore him.

"He was using a date to find a place to sleep," Tashi answers and Patrick peeks out from under his arm to see his reaction. Art actually grimaces.

Ugh.

"So what? Sorry I can't afford fancy fucking hotels every week," his skins itches with the feeling of their eyes on him, "you can't be mad at me for sleeping around, it's none of your business."

They were married to eachother, and they're mad at him for sleeping with a few (many) random people? It's not fair.

"I'm not mad, I'm concerned," Art tries to stroke his thigh, probably in comfort, but it makes him feel worse.

"Fucking prudes," he mutters to himself, "you expected me to celibate for a decade? Me?"

"Did you ever do this with them? Having sex when you weren't hard?" Tashi won't let up and he hates how she's picking him apart.

"Well if I'm on a date with a complete stranger and asking to go back to their place, it's kind of expected, I can't just not have sex with them" he says trying to prove how ridiculous it would be but they just look more worried, "most of the time I was into it, I like to fuck," he shrugs.

"But not all the time?" Art presses.

"I guess, but it's not like I could just be like oh sorry I don't want to have sex right now but can you just let me stay in your house anyway?" He laughs but it's a hollow fake thing.

It really wasn't often but sometimes when he'd been staying at someone's for a few nights, and he was tired from a match he wouldn't really want to have sex that night. Or when someone didn't look like their picture. Or when they were into something that he wasn't. Or he was into it but didn't particularly trust the person.

Sometimes he would leave, just sleep in his car instead or find another date if it wasn't too late. But other times he really needed a place and it felt worth it, it's not like he was being forced or anything. There just weren't that many options.

"Patrick you have to know that's kind of fucked," Art is moving the arm off his face, trying to look him in the eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," he can't get into it now, not with their faces looking like that.

Art tries to say something else but Tashi saves him, "we can stop for tonight."

He knows they'll have to talk about it another time but he's grateful she's finally letting him off the hook.

"But you can't do that with us, ever again," she continues, sharp and serious, "we're not random strangers from a fucking dating app. You have to tell us if you're not in the mood."

"I know," he replies, looking at the ceiling.

"We're not going to kick you out for not having a boner," Art says it so sincerely that it makes Patrick laugh.

Art glares at him.

"I believe you, man, it's just the way you worded it," Patrick holds his hands up in surrender, Art smiles, and he thinks even Tashi does a little.

"Alright, let's just go to sleep," Art taps his leg.

They let him sleep in their bed that night, the first time he's been allowed to do that outside from when they pass out there after sex.

It's nice. Really nice.

***

3.

This time had been great. He'd been in the mood. Really in the mood. Grabbing at Tashi and Art desperately, touching himself even when they told him not to. He knew how to get what he wanted.

Laid out on his back with his hands above his head tied to the bed post. Art was fucking into him, tight grip on his thighs, and Tashi was riding his face.

It was perfect, he couldn't move, all his senses completely overtaken by them both. They'd teased him, got him close to the edge a few times but not let him over, he couldn't see but he could feel his dick straining, probably bright pink and leaking.

He could barely breathe as Tashi used his mouth to get off, grinding against his face until she was shaking with her orgasm. She slides off him and he takes in a deep breath.

Now his mouth is free he's immediately asking, "touch me?"

"You're so impatient," she's out of breath too.

"Art?" He's pleading with his eyes.

"Don't go running to him for help," she grabs his face turning it to her, "you never fucking learn."

God it's getting him off, his brain fuzzy, not working right, "can't think."

"Can't do anything right," she spits at him.

He wants to remind her he just got her off but he's too desperate, just wants somebody to touch him.

"Sorry," he gets out, moaning as Art thrusts into him somehow faster.

Tashi's smirks, like she always does when he's too fucked out to fight back anymore. When she's won.

He fucking loves it.

She takes mercy on him, "guess I can forgive you, not your fault you get so stupid on his dick. Not your fault you're such a slut for it."

He's whining, trying not to beg.

Tashi knows what he wants, she turns to Art, "what do you think, baby? Has he earned it?"

Patrick squeezes around Art making him moan, "fuck. So tight."

"Art." Tashi scolds.

"Yeah, yeah he's earned it," he rambles out.

Patrick looks up at Tashi, begging with his eyes, she's in a good mood today so she nods in agreement.

"Alright, you've earned it," she moves her hand on his face, prying his mouth open with her fingers, "but you haven't been good, this is still a punishment, so I want you choking around my fingers, okay?"

Patrick nods the best he can with her hand in his mouth like that. She does this more often now, warning him before she does something.

Then she's shoving her fingers in, without hesitation to the back of his throat. He gags around them and it makes Art fuck him harder.

"That's right," she smirks at him, then addresses Art, "only touch him when you're about to come."

It turns out that's pretty soon because Art's hips are stuttering and he's reaching for Patrick's dick. He's so close too, with Art stretching him, the ache in his arms, and the burn of the restraints on his wrists. The way Tashi is relentless with her fingers, basically fucking his mouth.

It doesn't take much more, the feeling of Art's cum spilling inside him and a few clumsy strokes pushes him over the edge.

As he finishes his hips jerk up and he instinctively takes Tashi's fingers deeper, cutting off his breathing for a moment.

When Art pulls out, and Tashi removes her hand he feels dizzy, on a different plane of existence.

He thinks they're asking him something but he can't hear, just lays there breathing.

Suddenly feeling awash with dread for some reason.

"Was I good?" He says, but it gets caught in his throat. Not sure anything actually came out.

He's vaguely aware of one of them untying his wrists, and he finally relaxes his arms at his side.

"Patrick," Art's shaking him by the shoulder, and he's finally able to hear again.

"Sorry, my ears were ringing," he gives a weak smile.

He doesn't want to get up but he knows it's time for him to go to the guest room. Tashi's mom is coming over early in the morning which means he can't sleep in their bed.

"I'll just clean up in your bathroom then go to bed," he mumbles out, on autopilot.

He gets up, aching all over. Aware of them watching him.

Was I good? Echos in his head but he keeps his mouth shut.

After cleaning the cum off himself he leaves their en suite, ready to walk past them silently to go to the guest room.

Tashi's standing there, "get in the bed," she orders.

He crawls in reluctantly, knowing it's only going to make it harder when he has to leave,"I can't fall asleep here remember, your mom's coming over early."

He's got Art on one side of him as Tashi slips in on his other side, "we'll just wake up early, she won't come to the bedroom anyway."

"You can sleep in though," Art chimes in, "you must be tired."

"Not too much," Tashi adds, pausing, "but yeah, sleep in a little."

"I can sleep here?" He still sounds out of it, half wondering if he's not hearing correctly.

"You've done it before," Tashi chuckles, all warm and soft.

"I know," he breathes out, "but never when other people will be here."

Tashi just hums, stroking his bicep, "how do your arms feel?"

"They ache a bit," he says carefully, she doesn't normally ask about that.

Art's touching him too, inspecting where the restraints had been, "and your wrists?"

"Sore, I guess," he answers.

Tashi keeps stroking him, and Art is kissing at the red marks on his wrist.

"Was I good?" Spills out of Patrick finally, and actually audible this time.

Art's face crumples a bit, but he regains composure, "yeah, you were good."

"Really, good," Tashi adds, kissing his shoulder, "so good for us, right Art?"

"The best," Art's pulling him in, cuddling him as Tashi presses up behind him.

If he had asked why they were being so nice to him Art and Tashi would've said something like this: because after you finished you went basically unresponsive, and didn't reply when we asked if you were ok. Then when you finally did, you got up like a fucking zombie, walking to the bathroom with this horrible look on your face. Felt like you needed to be treated gentle. Even if you'd never say that.

He doesn't ask though, doesn't say anything else, just lets them kiss at him, telling him that he did a good job.

Art pushes himself further up the mattress so that Patrick can fall asleep tucked into his neck, and he can kiss the top of Patrick's head. Tashi spoons him from behind, an arm draped over him.

He falls asleep pressed between them, they hold him tight, covering every part of him, squeezing out the last drops of loneliness.

***

an: not proofread but will probably be cross posting to ao3 soon, thank you for reading :) (more Patrick being treated nice in other fics, i promise 🙏)

[amisha-jaya]

He is literally confessing he will love Leonore forever and he will die soon and he is at peace.

And you care for your ship!?!???!????

This book is about propaganda and paying attention and is published THIS YEAR in THIS POLITICAL CLIMATE

And YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR SHIP!?!?!??

A ship that is nonexistent in the books!!!?!?

Yes. Next question.

But since you asked important questions about politics and propaganda, I think you deserve a more thoughtful answer.

Yes, I care about my ship. I love Hayffie, and nothing will stop me from shipping them because I love them. Whether it's canon or not, whether it's in the books or not, does that even matter? I don't know why people are freaked out by ships. Shipping is fun because they're fictional characters, and it strengthens a fandom. And what if it's not canon? Seriously, you guys wouldn't have survived the ElsaxJackFrost era. It's my life and my account. If I feel like it, I can ship, I don't know, Mags with Beete, and no one can stop me.

That I care more about a ship than the book's message? So what? It's not the first book to address the issue of propaganda. I love dystopian literature. In fact, my favorite dystopian book is Fahrenheit 451, which marked a deep love for books. The world is a shithole and always has been. I don't need anyone to tell me that; I'm living it. I'm Latina, from Peru, to be precise. I could write a lot about how screwed up my country is because of corrupt authorities. I know what it's like to live under propaganda, I hate propaganda, and I live in constant fear that my country will end up in dictatorship again. I don't stop fighting, even though they might kill me, because this government kills protesters, calling them terrorists and communists.

Forgive me for worrying about a fictional ship instead of a message I've already ingrained in my mind after studying, reading, and experiencing it. I really hate the moral superiority the fandom has when it comes to claiming they do care about the message of the work. I'm not saying this about you, anon, but it's annoying to see that kind of criticism directed at people who are just enjoying something. We don't deny the message; we understand it. But I think emphasizing the obvious would be a very poor analysis of what we're being given. One thing that characterizes fandom is overanalyzing even a single sentence because we're unbearable and we like it that way.

Finally, what's stopping Haymitch and Effie from being together after the epilogue? Haymitch is finally healing, and it's a possibility. Until their deaths are confirmed, Hayffie will always be a possibility.

Haymitch is one of my favorite characters, and I find it very sad that he's closing himself off forever, so I'm not going to accept it. He deserves better than to die a depressed alcoholic yearning for a past love. Especially since he was so young—he was 16 when all this happened to him. And Haymitch is only 42—still young to die. In real life, people are attracted to others again; it doesn't mean they don't love their lost love, but they can move on.

I prefer to stick with that take.

[codenamesazanka]

We all know why Spinner likes Shigaraki, but why does Shigaraki like Spinner in your opinion?

This incredibly messy rambling is entirely my take and speculation, but when Spinner first entered the bar, in that ridiculous Stain cosplay, prob giving big chuunibyou-vibed declarations about how great Stain is and how he's gonna make Stain's dreams reality - (and remember, Shigaraki disliked Stain a lot at the time, even after accepting that he will be using Stain's influence to expand the League) - I bet Shigaraki was def plenty annoyed—but I think he also could saw through to who Spinner really was - a weak-quirked heteromorph nerd from the (notoriously-anti-heteromorph) countryside, with no previous criminal history but so wanting something more he would ditch everything to join up with villains.

In other words, Shigaraki saw someone who needed help. Someone that's been mistreated and excluded and flailing about with no purpose and coming to him because they had nothing else. And because that was Shigaraki's core - to be a Hero to the outcasts - he accepted Spinner. Now that's true for all the League, but Spinner was particularly pathetic, with the cosplay and weak quirk and no prior criminal experience. Spinner was such a loser, that Shigaraki had to take him in.

But I don't mean it's all because Shigaraki felt sorry for Spinner. That could be/provably was part of it, but remember that Spinner, despite all that, also somehow managed to show up, to ditch everything he knew to come find a group of villains; to be able to find and contact Giran to be introduced to the League, and then to demand being recruited despite his lack of power and skills.

That takes resourcefulness and wild guts! Which I'm sure Shigaraki took notice of, because Shigaraki does have a habit of admiring that kind of determination even in his enemies (Eraserhead protecting his students on his own, conceding to Deku's desire to save).

So it's my perception that Shigaraki had taken interest in Spinner the moment he showed up, because Spinner was such a weak, nobody guy with such a ridiculous, intense heart. Felt the need to acknowledge and help such a person.

I think that feeling only increased when he realized how alike the both of them are. They're both sullen nerds with awful hikikomori habits and they like video games, sure; but their despair and hatred of the world are really similar, too.

There's a reason Spinner becomes the closest to Shigaraki, and it's because he's the one who's also closest to hating what Shigaraki hates. Like, IMO, the other League members don't have as broad the amount of hatred for the world that Shigaraki does? Twice doesn't hate the world as much as wanting a place to belong; Toga never hated the world until the final battle; Dabi's hatred is more focused on Endeavor and radiates outward from that; and Compress talks of reform, signifying a level of hope for things to be different.

Shigaraki hates heroes but also people in general, the society they're all in, 'everything that created that house'. He's wants to destroy everything because of that. Spinner didn't have that depth or breadth at first, but his hatred was, at the base, the most similar. He hated his life and his community - his world; Stain is the one who allowed him to realized that hatred and rage and turn it on Heroes, but as he yells to Shigaraki, it wasn't just that. "That was the day I realized how suffocating society really is." And so once he heard Shigaraki's dream, he found himself supporting it.

But remember - Shigaraki declaring he would create that destroyed horizon was itself basically in response to the rant that Spinner yelled at him. His answer to the question Spinner asked of him about purpose.

Spinner and Shigaraki are kindred spirits; they are this quote from CS Lewis:

Friendship arises out of mere Companionship when two or more of the companions discover that they have in common some insight or interest or even taste which the others do not share and which, till that moment, each believed to be his own unique treasure (or burden). The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, "What? You too? I thought I was the only one." ... It is when two such persons discover one another, when, whether with immense difficulties and semi-articulate fumblings or with what would seem to us amazing and elliptical speed, they share their vision - it is then that Friendship is born. And instantly they stand together in an immense solitude.

And so I think got to Shigaraki. Enough that he would want to destroy Fuji for Spinner, then give only Spinner his last words.

Summing it all up: I think Shigaraki likes Spinner because Spinner is 1) a weak, pathetic guy 2) with admirable spirit 3) who likes and hates the same things in the same way he does.

(and 4) is a worthy gaming opponent.)

That's my take, anyway. Everyone is encouraged to tell me their takes too. go to my ask box now.

[dolli-remyy]

Dolli-remy 2025 collection <3.

(All rights reserved, please don't post anywhere else without permission. )

Dick grayson is the biggest emo.

I feel like everyone says he listens to Abba cause of discowing but I think he would totally be the type of dude to secretly listen to bring me the horizon , falling in reverse , get scared , peirce the veil and sleeping with sirens .

He plays Abba in front of his friends and family to annoy them , he doesn't mind Abba, but in his personal time ? Oh my lord, does he scream emo kid . You have to remember the dude went after his parents murderer at 9 .

The only people who would know he listens to them are probably Wally and Damian, Wally's because , well . Obviously, they've been friends since the beginning, and he probably wouldn't hide it from him anyway ( let be honest, Wally definitely listens to panic at the disco).

Damian, because of their time as batman and robin together , no one else was around for the kid, really besides him and Alfred. He felt no reason to hide it from him . He picks damian up from school all the time, and while damian is complaining about his incompetent classmates , there is always a hidden song playing lowly in the background . Damian tutts , saying the music is designed for flaws , but secretly, he bobs his head to the songs when he thinks dick is not looking . His baba smiles in the rear view mirror as he looks at damian looking out the window of his seat , and maybe slightly turns up the music so damian doesn't have to strain his ears .

Let's be honest, damian definitely looks up the songs once he gets to his room ( whether that be at richards place or the wayne manor .) And keeps a small playlist of all the songs Richard likes . He will tell everybody that he hates the music, but really? He's glad to be learning new things about his baba that no one else knows .

(I'm definitely not writing this as I listened to bring me the horizon and complain about the lack of dick and damian fics on A03.)

Dolli-remy 2025 collection <3.

(All rights reserved, please don't post anywhere else without permission. )

[blackkatmagic]

I enjoy how you have while Luke forgives Vade/Anakin he understands Leia Hatred towards Him.

I always did get annoyed on some Stories where Luke gets angry at Leia for Not forgiving Vader or say her hatred is wrong, Darth Vader may be my favorite character in the star wars franchise, But even I agree that the stuff he did to Leia, is unforgivable, you can't make someone forgive someone or Force them to, and I like them where Luke understands Leia anger, Leia does not forgive Vader and Vader accapting that.

Only time I would agree in a Au where Vader lives and Leia hatred to him should be called out on? Is if it somehow got them into a large mess or nearly got herself killed.

My most hated Vader Lives AU, is one where Luke refused to go to Leia wedding Because she didn't Invite Vader to the wedding, He said if you don't invite our father then I won't come either.

For damn sake! That annoyed me so Much that I facepalmed.

Oof, that's a hell of a characterization.

But yeah, I think interpretations of Luke that go down that route are...hm. showing him as incredibly selfish, in a way? They focus on Luke's feelings about Vader to an extent that I think removes all of the nuance and just makes Luke believe Vader = good now, but honestly I don't think that would be anywhere close to Luke's take on things. After all, Luke also suffered because of Vader - his family was murdered, his home was burned, his hand was cut off, his friends were killed. Luke's forgiveness isn't blind. He knows what Vader did, both to Leia and to him specifically, and the fact that he chooses to forgive Vader is an act of strength. I don't think that Luke would demand that same thing from people around him. It's just not part of who he is.

[azaharinflames]

every episode i think there's no way for them to make this bvddie-positive and after every episode i see them celebrating bvddie-canon in all the 911-tags

did you know 811 made bvddie half canon by having buck say he's not in love with eddie and that eddie is straight? having sex with tommy in his own bed in his own house is proof that buck is in love with eddie?

i wish all the buddie-baiting questions in every interview, after every episode would stop

even after that episode, with tommy finally back after almost 5 months of buck baking because he's missing tommy, they're still just asking about eddie/bvddie...

Hi, Nonnie!

Ngl it is lowkey entertaining to see just how they will spin things just so that they work in their favor. I usually laugh in astonishment at their audacity and delusion for five minutes, and then I go back at being frustrated because no one can be that dense and proclaim it is us the ones unable to see what the show is trying to say, yk?

I wish those question would stop, too, but I sadly think it's the easiest way to keep the Buddies engaged. And even if Tim was more neutral or shut things down in the way Aisha did, he still is interviewed by people who are heavily biased, so the interview will still be turned around so it favors them.

And I am curious to see just for how long they can push this narrative. Will bobs only turn on them once the show ends with no Buddie? Will they turn on the journalists if the season ends with BT back together? What will be their breaking point? Is there even one atp?

At the end of the day, this is the Buddie show for them. That's why everything must be about them, why Buck and Eddie cannot exist without the other for them, why they are so annoyed at the rest of the characters for 'stealing' screentime from (mainly) Eddie and (to a less extent, because I do think a big portion of them does not like Buck), Buck.

Anyway. My inbox is open for ranting, venting, giving your opinion (unpopular or popular, I'm happy to receive and discuss both), and even confessions! Though if you don't want yours posted, please make sure to say :)

Take care <3

[goldom]

Ave Mujica ep 12

How can there only be two left? With the massive popularity of this show among non-prior-Bandori fans, I have to imagine they're going to get another season eventually, but I wonder how much of this plot is going to be left for the game to cover. At the pace the En server is going, it's gonna be a looooong time before I see that happen...

Anyway, heading in with the following thought in mind. Thanks a lot, @keichocomint

0:16 Sakiko basically turning to the camera to remind the audience,

0:33 On one hand, lol. On the other, I think this says something about the way Sakiko still views her life as a drama, a play. But I also have to wonder why she's so docilely going along with this when she's, A) had no problem standing up to grandpa before, and B) just came off of reasserting her intent to stay with the band.

1:13 okay nevermind she's not going.

1:30 splat.

I shouldn't laugh but I did. How did her shoe get all the way up there?!

1:50 welp, episode's over! What a bold, avant-garde choice to switch the series to a 2-minute short 12 episodes in.

4:04 how does this random cab driver on Remote Island recognize Sakiko when she hasn't been back in years? Also what a voice lol I half expected him to mutate into a demon or something

5:43 Surprised Hatsune is just admitting everything so quickly. Good for her. But it's really weird to see her just being normal two episodes after listening to her sing about wanting to chain up Sakiko in her attic.

7:50 I'm gonna be annoyed if they're about to reveal there never was an Uika. I know a lot of people are speculating that, but I don't like it. If there being sisters had been a plot thread all along, maybe, but not when they just revealed her 11 episodes in.

10:47 It's really a mark of great writing that I can see this line and know it's about to break Hatsune – and it immediately does.

10:54 and then in a matter of seconds, Saki's voice switches into genki mode. Historically, that has always been a facade. Will this time be any different?

11:55 She reaaaally ought to know better than to say things like this to Hatsune by this point.

12:40 what is this reminding me of. There's a famous anime scene just like this, isn't there? I can't think of it.

13:36 I feel you can see in her eyes, in this moment, the thought, "Right now, I really could steal her away and take her captive forever..."

14:38 I don't know why grandpa has any power over Hatsune at all. He's never given her anything, so why does she struggle so much to resist his orders? Just a general cultural "obey your father" sense maybe. Orrrrr does he know the actual dark secret and is holding it over her? Is there still an actual dark secret left to reveal? I'm not really sure.

15:28 This episode is playing with time of day really blatantly. I saw it before and was willing to overlook it, but now I'm sure. Between 8:35 and 8:39 the sun instantly sets upon Hatsune revealing how she got Saki's dad in trouble.

And now again, they sneak into the Togawa mansion in the middle of the night, but the instant they stand up to the man and walk back outside, it's broad daylight.

The thematic meaning is obvious, but it's almost so over-the-top as to make me start questioning the reality of what I'm seeing.

15:50 He's just a little guy!

16:52 They forgot Umiri ;_;

But also… look at these girls? They look to have suddenly de-aged by years. Combined with how they were just acting like playful little kids in the garden, I have to assume that's intentional as well. With the shadows of their past exposed, it's like they're free to be children again.

17:02 Oh, they don't have outlines in this scene. That's why they look so soft.

17:07 I'm just glad I don't read online discourse because it's gonna be insufferable on both sides for months. It's a really complicated situation – and absurd in a way only possible in fiction – so yknow what, I don't hate this, but at the same time, it's like, reality's gonna come crashing back in soon.

17:40 And Hatsune admitting the dreamlike quality of everything. She knows this moment can't last. It's the healthiest she's ever been. And I can't hate her for wanting it. I get it. If you've read my fiction, you know I get it, it's all expressing the same thing: please, just let this peace last a little longer.

17:44 It did not last long. Sakiko already waking up to the realization that Hatsune's little domestic dream life isn't what she wants. God this show is good.

18:20 I love Umiri so much

20:25 Morf spotted!

21:08 FGGGFHSRFHGHHHH I just let out the loudest cackle Saki what the hellllllllllllllllllllllllll

21:58 "WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?" Sakiiiiiiii

I am having so much fun with this show. Hate that it's already coming to an end. And unsurprisingly, next week looks like it'll mostly be a performance. Perhaps this is the best way things can go, leading back into the game: everybody's plot arcs have resolved, but their underlying issues are still lingering, leading to opportunities for further progress. I've never read ahead of the English game (in any game) but I might have to for AveMu if we won't be seeing them over here for years.

But, so, where's the real Uika? During the whole time on the island, Sakiko never went "wtf are you talking about, you don't have a sister." And she correctly identified the moment it was Hatsune that came to her. This all still feels fully in line with a real Uika actually being alive somewhere. ("They moved to the mainland," said the cab driver.)

But at the end, when Saki calls Hatsune Uika again, it feels like she's saying, "Even knowing your origin, I accept you for the person you want to be seen as," which only works if HatsUika was one body all along, not if there's still a real person out there with a stolen identity.

Who knows. Well, one of you probably does. Lately every confusion I've had has been clarified by someone in the comments within 10 minutes of posting lol.