#i remember this every so often and it blows my fucking mind every time

[mongeese]

Once again thinking about how Faulkner is canonically about my age, probably younger. He's literally like 20. My boy should be at the club!!

[redr0sewrites]

s. sub vox headcanons please…. i need that tv man so bad its not even FUNNY

YESSSS MY INBOX HAS BEEN LITERALLY FLOODED W SUB VOX EVER SINCE I MADE THAT POST HAHA

🥀Cw: smut, dom!reader, marking, overstimulation, praise, degradation

🥀 Pt 2 Sounding Hcs Here

🥀minors dni

this man is a SPOILED switch

vox genuinely thinks hes a dom until he meets you, he's used to being dominant and has probably never tried being a sub

his ego gets in the way a little at first, he thinks it's embarrassing

however, once you begin to ease him into it, he's no longer embarrassed about the fact that hes subbing... hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys it

vox is so bratty, especially in the beginning

he has to trust you a lot to truly submit, and that takes time

he'll be very demanding, he'll try to touch himself without permission, he'll boss you around, he'll directly disobey commands, all in the effort of pissing you off

little does he know that you aren't giving up

PUNISH HIM. vox has a huge humiliation kink, fuck him in front of a mirror or in his monitor room where he can see himself from all anges, its so embarrassing to him and he'll probably short circuit

better yet, video tape it (w consent ofc) and play it for him later to fluster him

vox loves it when you talk dirty, hes def the type to have a voice kink

vox is also the type to be incredibly sensitive imo, and he gets overstimulated veryyyy easily bc of that

the easiest way for to you break down his bratty, bossy layer is to overstimulate him until he's sobbing

he has to really trust you tho

as much as vox likes your degradation, he LOVES youre praise

this man is constantly under stress, and is always hungry for control, so having someone else take it away from him can be very relieving for him

tell him how good he's doing, how good he's making you feel, and his mind goes all fuzzy <3

honestly once you slip into praise vox is practically GONE, he slips into subspace so easily when it comes to the overstimulating pleasure you're providing and combined with the praising? he's done for

vox always wants his hands on you, but he's so touchy and forgets how sharp his nails are, so you often have to restrain him

he likes seeing you covered in scratches tho, and also secretly likes it when you leave hickeys or scratches on his skin. ESPECIALLY when they're visible- it ties in with the humiliation kink ig, but if anyone ever noticed or pointed it out he'd prob cause a blackout with how flustered he'd get

speaking of getting flustered, vox glitches and whimpers when he moans, and his screen will often flush or grow static-y

the lights and electronics often flicker or go out when he cums, and he often cums so hard he glitches out and cuts the wifi (much to val and vels annoyance)

vox likes receiving more than giving, and LOVES blow jobs- it can be a little hard for him to give oral (lmao) but he loves bjs so so so much

theres something so pleasurable about just laying back and doing nothing but whimper and claw at the sheets as you suck him dry, and he cries from pleasure every time

VOX LOVES IT WHEN U SUCK HIM OFF WHILE HES WORKING, BUT HE NEVER ACTUALLY GETS ANY WORK DONE AND SPENDS THE WHOLE TIME SHAKING AND TRYING NOT TO THRUST INTO YOURE MOUTH

vox is also def a squirmer, like he'll shudder and whine over the gentlest touches. y'all also have to change the bedding like eveytime you have sex cuz he literally CLAWS at the sheets and moves around a LOT

simple solution? shibari

he loves/hates being tied up because its soooo humiliating and it gives you complete control

speaking of control, he finds it really hot when you're pissed or acting dominant outside of the bedroom

sometimes (alot of times) he'll try to intentionally piss you off just so you'll fuck him senseless

at the end of long work days, he either wants to be gently praised and taken care of while you both make love or fucked absolutely senseless until he can't even remember why he was upset and can only helplessly babble and whine

vox goes incoherent super easily and it only embarrasses him more that he can't get words out

he def owns a lot (and i mean a LOT) of sex toys and likes it when u use them on him

some nights he just wants to lay back while you try them all out on him

HES INTO SOUNDING AND YES I WILL ELABORATE IF ASKED <333

just the thought of u filling every one of his holes and overstimulating him from every angle makes him horny

he def will want you to use a remote control vibrator during meetings, he gets off on the humiliation

however with all of his baggage w valentino and shit, he def likes being treated sweetly too

some days he needs to get out of his head and be forced into submission and put into place, but others he needs to be pampered and praised and treated like glass

vox is much more emotional on these days and is a lot more clingy during these softer sessions

talk him through his orgasm, he'll probably start crying and let out the prettiest whimpers- he just cant help it, you make him feel so good :(

overall, he can be both super bratty and super submissive at the same time and is one kinky mf

humiliation is absolutely his biggest kink, followed in no particular order by bondage, a voice kink, praise, marking/claiming, DRY HUMPING (again i will absolutely elaborate if asked... hehe), and being put in his place

YALLLLLL IK THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I HAVE LIKE 6 OTHER SUB VOX REQS IN MY INBOX RN WHERE I WILL DEF BE GOING INTO MORE DETAILED SCENARIOS HEHE I LOVE HIMMMMM!!! I'LL PROB DO MORE IN DEPTH LIKE GENERAL HCS FOR HIM SOON WITH HIS DOM SIDE AS WELL CUZ THIS MANS THE WORLDS BIGGEST SWITCH- ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYEDDDD FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE REQS >:D

UPDATE: ELABORATION (basically pt 2 w sounding hcs) HERE

[teaboot]

I'm surprised/impressed? by how blase you are about people threatening you at work. A neighbor threatened me last week and it was so scary and I wish I could have had the same kinda response you seem to.

First off, I hope you're safe and okay, that's an awful experience to be familiar with and especially bad that they live so close to you D:

Second, I'm certainly no maverick out here- I've only been doing this a few years now- but I've found that about 99% of threats I receive have very little intent to follow through.

The type of threats I usually receive are typically from:

Someone who's had bad experiences with security or police, in the past. People with hand and face tattoos, homeless folks, people with mannerisms that get them labeled as "sketchy", POC, and people who've been incarcerated all have valid reason to believe I'm out to get them, and may get treated badly elsewhere often enough that they're expecting that. Every time I approach someone, I have to take this into account and do everything I can to signal that they haven't been profiled based on preexisting stereotypes.

Someone experiencing the symptoms of a mental health condition. People with mental illnesses are statistically victims of crime more often than they are perpetrators. That said, I have run into people before whose mental illness can present as aggression- if someone behaving erratically or is known for that sort of thing tells me they're gonna blow my brains out, but I can clearly see they're unarmed, not coming towards me, haven't hurt anyone, and show no intent of escalating, I'm probably not in danger. A few people I've met will see me again in a day or two and will have no problems with me at all.

Someone who is scared, frustrated, anxious, or grieving. Not to excuse violence in any context, but in my experience 99% of people who blow up at me aren't actually thinking about me. Anger isn't so much an emotion in a lot of ways as it is the reaction to another emotion- if someone tells me they're gonna kick my ass, I have to question if there's anything they may be frightened, frustrated, or sad about something else entirely. If I can address and resolve what's causing the anxiety, the anger usually goes away next. If I can't deescalate, my next job is to disengage and make sure myself and others aren't at risk of harm.

People who want something from me. This does not happen often. Maybe they want me to back off, or leave them alone, or let them take something, whatever- maybe they think I'm someone with clearance to use physical force, or they think my flashlight is pepper spray. Whatever it is, once they've made it clear they're willing to act, I back off. Unless they're hurting another person, nothing they want is worth getting stabbed or shot over. And physical conflict is insanely stressful, even for the attacker, so even then whoever threatening me will likely take any "out" I can give- I keep paths of escape clear, stay out of range, keep calm and respectful. Every time this has happened to me, the person has run away when given the chance.

People who genuinely want to hurt me and intend to follow through. Again, this is super uncommon- I think it's only really happened to me once or twice on the job. Yes, it's scary, but I find it helps to remember that they arent after me, they're after the uniform. If someone is coming after me in costume, so to speak, it's not who I am as a person, it's what I represent. And a lot of people seem to think I'm a cop, or see me as a faceless goon, or a past abuser, or an intruder in their life specifically sent to make them miserable. If that's what they believe, there's not much I can do to change their mind except, again, stay calm and respectful and disengage.

I do know how to defend myself to an extent, but again, I don't have weapons or restraints or a vest or anything and I'm kinda small on top of that so really I'm cool with hauling ass if I gotta. If me getting the fuck out of dodge resolves the issue then I'm not above radio'ing HQ from the top of a tree somewhere, that shit is above my pay grade.

TL/DR in my personal limited experience, someone who has told me that they're going to hurt me wouldn't have given me the warning unless there was something I could do to avoid it. Stay calm, don't yell, be respectful, give them an escape route and run if you need to

Stay safe out there, yeah?

[coffeegnomee]

Something that has always fascinated me deeply is how UNintelligable PrinceZam is when viewed from any pov besides his own. 

Because from PrinceZam’s pov, his lore is deep and rich and filled with struggles and worries and regret and fear and paranoia and justifications and good reasonings to do evil arcs. He really crafts the most interesting and sympathetic characters of all of lifesteal. He responds to the happenings of the server with deep lore every time. Pours everything out to chat, giving us the littlest details about his mindset at every moment. 

But from EVERYONE else’s pov he just does’t make sense. Like even I feel confused about PrinceZam when I watch him from other povs. There’s something about it that I can’t put my finger on. But more often than not, everyone views him with utter confusion. 

But this is the ONLY way other lifestealers interact with Zam. They don’t get to watch PrinceZam streams. They don’t see him like we do. Ever. 

And this really applies to every lifestealer ever, none of them get to see the lore from within that person's mind. The can only react to the external view of it.

What a fascinating little conundrum. 

Because with the Saturday session and Flame, I could not help but feel like he was actually just doing a Joker arc. Not Abyss, Joker. 

Because the Abyss was about player activity, sure, but it was more about the trap, and it grew into a “we will destroy all of spawn” over time.

The Joker arc was about making minutetech and jumper see that pacifism does not belong on lifesteal. This is the killing people server and you should kill people. Kill me. I will blow up builds until you kill me. 

Now, Flame does not have the pizzazz of the gay joker. He never will. And he probably will never make anything truly interesting with this lore from his own pov. (and bro keeps not streaming any of it)

But that’s not what intrigues me about it and made me so happy seeing it unfold. 

It’s because Zam was walking around saying the same damn lines that Minutetech said about Zam all throughout the joker arc. Some of them lines that were said between Minute and Ash without Zam around. The following are Zam quotes from the Saturday stream.

“they just want attention, if we don’t give them attention they’ll give up” almost word for word from minute about mapicc and zam. 

“If he’s going to throw a tantrum we mighteswell just not give him the fight”  

Them digging their heels in and not doing the one thing Zam/Flame wanted them to do: kill them. Not doing it because it was the one thing the crazy evil guy blowing up bases told you he wanted. 

“if i fight them i give them exactly what they want. It’s so fucked up. There’s no, there’s no winning option here. There’s nothing I can do to win”

“maybe some people can’t feel regret the way I do, that’s fine, i guess, that’s whatever.If that’s how he is, that’s how he is. But i don't believe that for a second” (remember who you were in s3 Zam!)

“He’s just going to blow up more. And that’s okay. I’m willing to let him do that. I honestly don't care. Like, if that’s what he wants to do then that’s what he does I guess”

“YOURE having fun, but no one is gonna log on and see this and say oh I wanna fight flame now. No one’s doing that dude. This isn’t how this works.”

FLAME: “it makes me happy bro, that’s all that matters” How many times did Zam insist that the Joker arc was fun. How many times did Jumper go “why are you doing this” and Zam said “it’s fun” without elaborating the nuanced undertones of the arc. 

Zam even dropped the MinuteTech patented "okay"s when Flame and Wemmbu were saying they were doing it for fun.

From the outside the lore was the same. The damn same. But this time we have the pb&j side from PrinceZam. And it fascinates me how similarly they approached the situation. 

And then as a final bonus, there’s the question about moral high ground. On the first day of the server, Ash was talking to Wemmbu and the following conversation unfolded (1:38:00) 

WEMMBU: “I have done nothing evil this season. Leowook killed me for no reason, then I died to fall damage for no reason, well, because my water glitched out, and then I died to Spoke for no reason… DUDE I’M ON THE MORAL HIGH GROUND THIS TIME! Without having to like, make things up. This is great.” 

ASH: “Yea, don’t do that bro. It’s not worth it. Seriously. It’s not worth it and you won’t even get a good video. Do you know how easy it is to be a good guy, and then last second go ‘I want to be an agent of chaos’ and how much that fucks everyone else on your team up?” 

And Zam on Saturday, “Why does it even matter? What the- what does moral high ground get me?!”

Ominous shit man.

[youryanderedaddy]

Bad dog

tw: very trippy and edgy rawr, hinted captivity, hinted abuse, insults, victim blaming

During the coldest nights, as the fireplace tickles your cheeks red, he likes to tell you over and over - with the slightest of smiles, the story of how you two first met. As if you don't remember it. As if you don't regret every second of it.

You with your long raincoat crying, barely coherent, searching for escape, for a savior to run into. Clinging to any stranger who looked kind enough, who had innocent eyes, who wasn't drunk or drugged out of their mind - but in that type of neighbourhood after dark, you hardly met any respectable people. Heavy stench of wet tobacco sinking to the very fabric of your flimsy dress under the cargo (feeling like a whore and looking like one, he often adds with a biting chuckle) - your heart was beating, clapping like a dying bird's wings, and if it could speak with a human voice, it would be screaming. You were being chased.

You don't even recall his name or his face anymore. Maybe an angry lover? A crazed admirer? Your father, drunk and bitter after a fight? Back then you were so terrified you could describe him in your sleep, but now nothing seemed as scary as it did back then. Darkness has become your sanctuary and even the monsters pity you. You were afraid you were losing your mind, once, (don't be silly, he had said. you were crazy from the star, doll.) you could feel his hands on you, but whose hands were they really? Why were you running in the first place?

He was screaming. Threatening to murder you, maybe. You were shaking and wet and you just needed a hug. And perhaps one hundred martinis followed by the most gruesome, toe - curling, humiliating fuck of your life. The type that leaves you feeling filthy, bleeding, and not even in a good way. The type you could control and write down, and fully envision with director cuts and quotes and props, as if come out of your own personal fucked up pink little porn studio.

You needed someone - something. A friend? A kind soul that happened to pass by? You had watched too many movies. You were naive - all those offices, all those mass corporate names, those leather seats at the top floor right next to the big boss, those tears and sweats to climb the ladder and yet, you were still a naive, stupid little girl. Believing in fairytales, in the power of love, tenderness, believing that out there exists someone who might just take you as you are for free. Someone who will hold you without bruising you. Someone who will save you without destroying everything you are. Someone who will fight those fights for you without somehow perversely enjoying breaking down all those walls, all that independence you had created for yourself.

You're not a child anymore. And as you look at the man across from you, with his crazed eyes, with what he thinks is love, you're not sure if you're the naive one. You're not sure if good exists, if love is real or just some commercial bullshit. A lie that communists invented to get free sex, or whatever.

"You looked like a nasty little street rat. You jumped into my arms and I was thinking," He speaks and speaks and speaks, and God, you're tired of hearing. You wish your ears would bleed out before he is finished with the story. "Maybe I should blow your brains out. One less sad whore on those streets." He grips your thighs painfully and you kick him in the groin, but he only groans in return. Freak. "But then you opened that cute little mouth of yours and-"

And you begged him to help you. To save you. To take you away from this miserable life of yours.

"You looked so helpless. I couldn't help myself."

And that's why he decided to chain you like a dog and fuck you black and blue. Because he couldn't help himself. And because you couldn't help yourself, you had invited him. Your body was calling out to him. If you weren't so sad, if you weren't so lonely, so helpless. If you weren't in the wrong place at the wrong time, you wouldn't meet the wrong people. If you had only been a good girl. If you had just stayed put. If you didn't entice bad men - even as a child. Even as you were spilling your guts out, maybe your blood was just that beautiful.

"You basically threw yourself into my arms. It was love at first sight."

Right. It was love all along.

[deathanniversary]

“oh, to awaken this molten heart. even once will do— i cannot do it without you.”

synopsis : after a fight with satoru about suguru’s recent disappearance, he can’t even function properly. and all you wanted was to help, yet, he denies it. each time, constantly.

a/n : yes i know sugu died when they were older shhhhshhhshhh it makes the story more emo when i do this 🙏 alexa play patchwork by ichiko aoba ! mmm angst

satoru missed you, in a not-so-friendly way, perhaps. jeez, how many years had it been since he ever saw you before you stormed out of his dorm room in highschool angrily after suguru had after riko’s death? since that day that he remembers quite clearly, you’d ignored him on campus and devoted your time to focusing on just your schoolwork. not your friendship or anythin’. whispers and conversations were all about the new hot topic— you and satoru’s relationship. p.s, anyway will try to twist drama up just to see action— especially if it means getting with the satoru gojo— romantically or not. they’d kill to be his closest best friend.

he does miss you. after all this time of hiding— he’s not sure where you went after graduation. maybe you got into a good college? you’ve always been smart. maybe you decided to become a sorcerer (you told him being a sorcerer was never on your list of jobs. he’s truly gaslighting himself to believe you’ll come back.) he feels lost without you— really. nanami was shocked when he didn’t hear that loud ass laughter down the hallway each every morning. just some occasional, “good mornings”. and brief small talk. satoru tried to keep up his act, but his mask kept slipping off. and eventually, he let it be that way.

but his mind keeps reviewing and skimming through what happened that day. he feels horrible for what he did and said that day.

“goodness. you back to my room every damn day to ask me the same shit— fuck! can you just leave me alone? my fucking best friend left me with no note, no call, no text— no fuckin’ nothin’! see why your daddy got his ass up and left your stupid ass.” that was a low blow. you entrusted satoru with all your heart to keep his lips shut about this secret that you’ve only shared to him and only him. dorm walls are thin, so, maybe six or the everyone on this floor just heard satoru shout that you dad left you. you don’t know.

“don’t want the same thing happening to you when that happened to me. can’t lose you,” you murmured under your breath, tilting your head up to try and maintain the tears in your eyes— not wanting to look like a punk in front of your best friend— well. maybe your friend. you just were worried about him. you didn’t want him to fall into depression, like you did.

his eyes showed no remorse or sympathy for you at first, but when he stupidly shut up and processed what you said, you’d silently exited the room without yelling, hitting or screaming at him. real mature. he felt so idiotic; what kind of dick gets pressed over that? you accepted all his quirks without a hint of judgment, whether it was good or weird. in you, satoru discovered this oasis of understanding, a safe haven in a world that often felt overwhelming and confusing. you were almost like suguru. maybe the knock-off version of his spirit sent by an angel? it’s not the right moment to think about this, anyways.

people’s doors flew open as you hurriedly sprinted down the flight of stairs, not caring that you might fall down those steps at any given moment if your not careful. and what did satoru do? stare at where your presence once was like a helpless & injured deer.

you were in school campus for a few weeks, since it was the last few weeks of school, but you didn’t show up to classes that satoru was in. which was mainly only half of your classes. either you’d be very concealed in the classroom or absent. graduation was the last time he saw you. well— not really. he couldn’t get to see your face once more. he was pushing and pushing through crowds of students, yet, you’d already given your speech and left to school building.

maybe he could catch you in the parking lot? no. he’d have to (once again) push through a larger crowd of students, and probably by the time he get over there, you’d be driving back to your house on this rainy afternoon.

he couldn’t help but dwell your cheerful messages you had last left for him when he graduated. little doodles and ‘well done’s’ and, ‘good job satoru!!! proud of u!!!’ on the notes. if only he could cherish that moment once more with you.

“sir… do i..— nevermind.” a familiar voice made his ears perk up and lift his head, ignoring the text message that he was previously reading.

was it.. could it..? no. it couldn’t be you. no way. but your features and highlights are damn similar, his brain’s telling him no but his heart is insisting it’s you.

your umbrella shields his hair from the rain— although he doesn’t need it because of his infinity, he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want you to move nor leave him. no, not today. he won’t fuck up like he did when his was a stupid, dumb high school kid.

[fernhelm]

opinions on the black sister relationships? i love your character posts sm!

i’m blowing you a kiss!

i love thinking about them…sorry this took so long, i was busy lounging and watching killing eve. i might type up something about the dynamic between the three of them, but i broke them down into pairs here.

bella & cissa ♛

i made a webweave here that basically sums up my thoughts on bellacissa. i do think cissa thinks she’s a fanatic and completely bonkers, but she’d defend her anyway. narcissa appreciates that in their patriarchal fucked up family, bella is carving her own path—she isn’t docile or ladylike at all. so cissa takes some vicious pleasure in how unleashed bella is. conversely, bellatrix has a deep-seeded jealousy FOR narcissa, who is at least able to play the part of the perfect pure blood woman in a way bellatrix never could. my vision is that druella has contempt for bella but pays a lot of attention to narcissa. once druella is dead, bella sees narcissa as both her baby and her mother in a way, and she resents both. but i won’t get into bella here she deserves her own post.

bella & andy ♞

the hardest relationship for me is bella and andy. my belief is that these two are one year apart in age, like irish twins. we know from dh that they’re basically identical. I think they were pitted against each other a lot. they both end up teaching each other how conditional someone caring for you can be. it’s obvious that andy leaving really wounds bella (as evidenced by the ferocity with which she wants to kill ted and tonks), so there is a degree of power andy hold over her emotionally. bella is both the terrorist and the protector in the home. she goes after both her sisters, but it’s with the ultimate goal of making them strong enough to face anything that’s thrown at them…andy doesn’t want to change her or save her—she knows all the dark, evil parts of her and grapples with all the times bella showed her tenderness or turned her rage against someone else for her sake. i think they can read each other’s body language perfectly, but don’t understand each other’s minds at all. once they’re older they fight all the time, verbally if not with magic, and it would start with bella making some pointed jabs to get her attention and andy curating a biting response without looking up from her magazine and just like that they’re dueling. but once it’s over and they’re panting on the floor, bella would kick her leg and they’d smirk at each other a bit. or one of them would storm out. i do think that andy did bella’s hair for every event they attended between the ages of 8 and 16. huh, i guess i have more to say about them than i thought i did.

andy & cissa ♝

narcissa spends years stepping in the footprints andy has left behind. before she figures out who she is, she’s just a ghost of andy. she learns all her best defenses from her. i don’t think andy feels very bad about leaving her behind. i don’t think she’d try to convince narcissa to go with her either. she would miss her so much, but she’d grieve her like she’s dead. i don’t see her as a person who holds on to a lot of regrets. and she’s in love! she wants to run away and forget every bad thing that ever happened to her! is that a crime? narcissa thinks it is. growing up andy was her strongest ally, and she takes it as the ultimate betrayal when she leaves. similarly to regulus, she looks down on andy and maligns her whenever her name comes up, but it’s a cover up for how hurt she is. andy knows all the reasons that narcissa thinks she’s trapped in the life she leads, but she still thinks ‘if you want out, get out.’

daughters 1, 2, 3 ♙

fairy tales often follow a 1 2 3 format because it’s easy to remember a moral lesson tied up with a bow when it comes in a set of three (three billy goats, beauty and the beast, the peverell brothers). it goes bad bad good. so it’s super interesting that the ostensibly “good” one, andy, is the middle child. she is bookended by two death eater sisters. which raises the question: what went wrong (or right) with her? and for the others too—narcissa in canon is primarily draco’s mother, but giving her andromeda AND bellatrix as sisters raises all kinds of questions about her upbringing and interpersonal relationships. bellatrix chases and scolds narcissa at the beginning of half-blood prince, and she’s not particularly scary at all. the terrifying evil bitch who killed sirius calls her sister cissy? three sisters who mean vastly different things to harry, but we never get the three of them in a room, so so much is left to the imagination. lots to play with. good things come in threes!

[benny-the-spaceman]

one of these days im going to release my tlm drafting headcanons from my notes app purgatory and that day is Today.

HERE'S HOW I THINK LEGO MOVIE CHARACTERS WOULD PREPARE AND MAKE DRAFTS

...under the cut

Batman

• Fairly good at drawing. Somehow able to draw straight lines without a ruler perfectly fine every single time but otherwise nothing super noteworthy (he does brag about this constantly however)

• Drafts in white and yellow posca pen??? will use white colored pencil for finer detail however, specifically one of those mechanical colored pencils

• Drafts on black paper because he thinks it makes his designs cooler (it doesn't)

• Dimensions in imperial and would be annoyed if you dare even *insinuate* he use metric. no justification here

• Doodles around his drafts, specifically likes to doodle bats and himself because he, once again, thanks it makes his drafts cooler (the bats kinda do)

• Refuses to leave notes on his designs. you either know what to do or you don't

• Does however write his drawing title obnoxiously large

• Used autocad for like a day, hated it, switched to solidworks and never went back

• Buys autodesk licenses for the rest of the masterbuilders. unwillingly, mind you, wyldstyle just knows his credit card information and abuses it

Benny

• Good at drawing exclusively spaceships. big shock i know

• The king of eyeballing a line or an angle and then labelling it however the fuck he wants. proper measurements take time he could spend drafting or making more spaceships, he'll save measuring and straightedges for drafts he deems important enough

• Uses blueprinting paper. there's no practical purpose for this, he just digs it

• Drafts with whatever writing utensil is on hand

• He gets inspired quite often so he usually keeps a drafting notepad on him just in case

• Leaves a *lot* of notes. Most of them are completely unnecessary and are a funny contrast to his haphazard dimensioning

• Pretty dang good at autocad! Usually reserves it for projects that require a lot more collaboration however

• Usually drafts in metric, can dimension in imperial but prefers not to

• 100% sets autocad to the light background like a monster

• Do not give him any 3d modelling software, he might blow up the computer

Emmet

• Either really good or really bad at drawings (obvs leaning towards bad. we remember the break in plans)

• Dimensions in imperial. I cant justify this one he just does. god bless america or something idk

• Owns a couple drafting pencils but rarely uses them, most of the time he drafts in marker or pen much to the chagrin of anyone who needs to read his drafts (or delight if you're unikitty)

• Started learning how to use autocad after taco tuesday and he's actually pretty good at it! he does use an architectural dimstyle for everything though which is particularly annoying when he's quite often not drafting buildings now

• Has labelled and colored layers 👍 enough said

• Uses disgustingly thick lineweights. horrible.

• Rarely if ever 3d models so he's not good at it, he mostly works on things that 2d conveys better anyways

• Although he's not the best drafter of the master builders, his construction background makes him the best at reading drafts, give him a unikitty draft and he can decipher it like it's nothing

Metalbeard

• Probably the best at drafting of the master builders, he's got the age advantage and lots of practice from making ships

• Drafts in pencil, quill, or charcoal depending

• Who needs straightedges or angle stencils when youre basically a pirate cyborg, expect robot like precision

• Doesn't use standard measuring conventions, instead opts to use the dumbest things possible. The Sea cow's units of measurement were seagulls. It isnt that he cant do normal units of measurement, he just prefers his made up ones

• Makes his drafting paper by himself

• Pretty good with 2d and 3d modelling surprisingly. He doesn't like either, however, he much prefers drafting on paper

• Leaves an average amount of notes on his drafts but has the most disgustingly fancy cursive and writes in his piratey english. Often a nightmare to read if you aren't used to his writing

• Will sometimes do blueprint swaps with Benny wherein they critique each other's work. not sure when they started doing it, but it's become a weekly activity for them

Unikitty

• Worst drafter of the main masterbuilder crew. Most people think it's because she's a cat but no she just doesnt take drafting seriously in the slightest

• Drafts like she's making an arts and crafts project. She has put several bottles of glitter on singular drafts and she will do it again

• Dimensions in rainbows, no knows what this means other than emmet

• Gives the longest, most complicated titles possible

• No such thing as straight lines

• Is entirely capable of drafting properly, just refuses to

• Leaves notes that are entirely unrelated to the draft. she wont tell you how youre supposed to connect two objects but she *will* tell you about the sandwich she ate while making the draft

• Doesnt use autocad, looks too boring

• Didnt use any 3d modelling softwares until she realized you can change the appearance of materials. that was a game changer. still much prefers drafting on paper though

• Likes drafting with emmet sometimes since he seems to be the only person who understands her drawings. to this day no one understands how he does it

Vitruvius

• Going blind has, surprisingly, not made him much worse at drafting, just changed his process a bit

• Drafts in pencil

• Probably the person who least frequently drafts of the main masterbuilders. On account of just not needing to and also on account of being dead

• Dimensions in the old anglo-saxon units of measurement

• Doesn't title his drafts and doesnt see a point in doing so

• Leaves the most vague, utterly confusing notes on his drawings. theyre still related to the drawings unlike unikitty's notes, but theyre very odd

• Doesn't use autocad or 3d modelling softwares, partially because he wouldnt really be able to on account of being blind but also partially because he doesn't really know what they are

• There isnt really much to say about his drafting skills he's about as normal of a drafter as a masterbuilder can be

Wyldstyle

• An engineering teacher's dream student. She may not have the amount of experience metalbeard has but she's still very skilled

• Doesn't like drafting on paper and won't if she doesn't have to

• When she does draft on paper she uses a drafting mechanical pencils. she also 100% collects them

• dimensions in metric to exactly 3 decimal places

• leaves very few if any notes (always very concise ones if included)

• has a case of staedtler stencils that she bought 4 years ago and never uses

• picked up a habit of doodling on drafts from batman but will never admit she got the habit from him

• Autocad PRO. Also really damn good at solidworks and fusion. Give this girl a computer and she'll give you a motorcycle assembly within the hour

• Specializes in automotives

• Spends time with Emmet on the weekends teaching him how to use digital drafting softwares (this process was incredibly frusturating at first but gets easier with time)

[tanobatcher]

snowfall

hevy x bartender fem reader

summary: you and hevy have been seeing each other, temporarily putting your relationship on pause when he passes his cadet training and gets sent to rishi outpost for his first assignment. after waiting on his promised return for months, you receive the news you had been dreading.

warnings: profanity, angst, major character death, and suggestive content

this was originally a shortfic on ao3 but it made me sad so i never finished it but i was suddenly overcome with a change of heart and some new ideas. my first tumblr post ever lol so pls be kind.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Winter is the season of death. A martyr of sacrifice. Although Coruscant manipulates its weather all year round through an artificially engineered system that controls the city’s cycle of life, its citizens experience the cold just as naturally as they will anywhere else. They don’t have to worry about slipping on icy streets or shoveling snow outside of their apartments, though. These few months of frigid temperatures cause minimal damage, only intended to maintain balance across nature’s scale. And yet, this winter is particularly dull for you. Springtime can’t seem to come any sooner, but that isn’t what you are waiting for. It isn’t a new beginning that occupies your mind as time passes like a dragging blur—it is someone from your past who you aren’t sure will remain in your present. Or, even, your future.

“No word from him yet?”

Glancing up, you look at your manager from across the bar top and shake your head. He shrugs in response, clicking his tongue with a lack of sympathy that doesn’t surprise you. Despite running a clone bar in the heart of the city, he isn’t one to attach himself to anyone. Perhaps you can learn from that.

“I told you not to get involved with any customers,” he scolds disapprovingly, “This is war, darlin’. More often than not, these clones don’t come home. That’s why they make a fuck ton of them—”

“He’ll be back,” you interrupt firmly.

Your manager rolls his eyes and saunters away, but not before getting the last word in. “The sooner you’re available again, the better. I can’t deal with any more jealous boyfriend shit when you have a job to do.”

Rather than say anything in defense of your hopeless relationship, you bite your tongue and turn your head away from this conversation. 79’s is quiet at this hour, hardly bustling with the energy that usually starts picking up after sundown. The lack of distracting noise is the last thing you need, though, because the scrambled thoughts crossing your mind are more torturous than any physical blow you can imagine this war wreaks on its soldiers. One of them is the rookie you started dating during the last few months of his cadet training. What began as casual hookups in the backroom of the bar during your night shifts became a full-fledged, committed label when he caused a scene (supposedly) in your honor. You still remember this like it was yesterday.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked him once you cornered him in the backroom after your manager separated the ridiculous brawl that resulted in broken glasses and turned tables.

“He was all over you,” Hevy retorted while towering over you with a wildly untamed glower in his eyes, “You think I was just going to sit around and let that play out?”

You shook your head in disbelief and ignored every step he was taking to come closer to you. “I work here, Hevy. It’s my job to satisfy my customers.”

“Your customers, huh? You fuck all of them, then?”

The words stung more than they should have, but you held your ground and raised your chin to meet his scowl. He was so close that you could have closed the distance by stepping up on your tip-toes just a little. Instead, though, you stared at his annoyingly arrogant face to assess the damages he retained from the fight. They were impressively minuscule, especially compared to the random brother he saw “all over you” in a cozy booth far away from most of the action. A split lip and a bruised jaw were definitely more favorable than a broken nose.

“That’s none of your business,” you eventually replied even though Hevy was the only trooper you had ever taken things this far with.

He raised his eyebrows and took another step closer, prompting you to move back until he had you against the door you locked for privacy. Maybe that was a good call, seeing where this conversation was going. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you maintained the defiance in your eyes as he leaned in so your lips were brushing over each other. This was more anticipatory than teasing, especially because you knew he would give you what you wanted if you asked nicely.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured in a lethally soft tone that didn’t change the fact that he was such a hotheaded nightmare you couldn’t stop dreaming about.

“Why? It’s true…people come here for one thing,” you said without meaning to sound bitter about it, “You wanna know what that is? It’s escape. And my job is to make sure I show everyone a good time, or else, I’ll lose it.”

Sliding a hand across your jaw to grip the back of your neck, Hevy shook his head and replied, “You’re wrong. I come here for you.”

Your insides curled and coalesced with a heat that you pushed away to focus on the matter at hand. “No, stop. I thought we weren’t going to do any of that.”

“Any of what?”

“You know…acting sweet and stuff.”

“You decided that,” he reminded you, squeezing your neck gently, “I didn’t.”

“We’re not together,” you whispered while snaking your hands around his waist to pull him closer until he was completely pressed against you, “You can’t just act like a jealous boyfriend every time someone’s a little friendly with me.”

He dipped his head and nudged your nose with his. “But I wanna be your jealous boyfriend.”

The confession made your eyes go wide before they fluttered shut as soon as he closed the distance between your parted lips. Forgetting all about your previous irritation with him, you kissed him back and didn’t protest when he lifted you up by the back of your thighs for a better angle. It wasn’t the first time you had been in this kind of situation with him, but his embrace felt different as he squeezed your ass and ravished your mouth with an angry intensity that his fist fight didn’t rectify. The words etched in every kiss exchanged were loud and clear even though they weren’t spoken aloud: You were his. It didn’t matter if you had a job to do or not—at least, it didn’t matter to him. A warm possession consumed both of you as you sank into his hold and whimpered quietly, needing to take a breath.

“I’m not supposed to date our customers,” you told him when he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled before saying, “And stop calling me your customer.”

You licked your lips, tasting some of the blood that had seeped through his wound in the middle of the kiss. He watched you through dark, heavy-lidded eyes and pressed his thumb into your bottom lip, swiping it back and forth so slowly that you felt deprived of something he hadn’t even started.

“You hear me?” He continued when you stayed silent, “Or is that a no?”

“Hevy, it’s complicated—”

“It’s not complicated. Do you want me or not?”

“I do…I like you,” you admitted despite your racing heart, “But there’s so many reasons why we shouldn’t go further.”

“Bullshit. Name one,” he challenged you with a determined glare, “And your stupid ass manager doesn’t count. He can go fuck himself.”

Pursing your lips, you hoped said manager didn’t hear any of this. Exhaling softly, you said, “It’s also just that you’re a soldier, and…you know.”

His stare hardened as he tightened his hands around your body. “You worried about me?”

“I mean,” you sighed and averted your eyes in embarrassment, “I know you’re not done with your training, but soon…what then?”

“Nothing will change for me,” he reassured you, not even thinking about the possibility of death, “I’ll always come back as long as you’re here.”

You wrinkled your nose and pushed at his shoulder a bit with a fist. “Stop being so corny.”

“Why?” He laughed and captured your mouth in a brief kiss, “Is it working on you?”

“No,” you lied against his lips and kissed him deeper while clutching at his back if it meant never having to let go.

He pulled away again, still unsatisfied with the direction of this conversation. Searching your expression, he said, “I’m serious. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want more from you.”

“I thought you just wanted something casual.”

“So what?”

“So, you’re going back on your word?” You pointed out, “That’s not very like you.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind, I guess,” he shrugged, “It happens.”

“Not very often. You’re the most stubborn asshole I’ve ever met.”

“Sure, but you like me. You said it yourself.”

Unable to argue with this, you smiled and circled your arms around his neck. The conversation paused as you both looked at each other in silence and just felt every crevice where your bodies were folded together like a permanent attachment nobody could rip apart. If only that were the case, though. You were still worried that committing to this relationship would eventually hurt you, but there was no denying the direction your heart tugged. Drawing your arms inward again, you cupped his face with both hands and caressed the stubble that covered his unique tattoo. He leaned into your touch with a subtle smirk, staring at you almost pleadingly. Desperately.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed, “But you can’t do whatever you pulled out there ever again.”

“No promises.”

“Hevy, I’m serious—”

He rolled his eyes and cut you off with another kiss that you melted into. Nipping at your bottom lip with a tinge of punishment, he whispered, “So am I. You think this isn’t serious to me? I’ve been trying to find a way to ask you out for ages now.”

“Like…a date?” You questioned as your face heated up with a red blush.

“Yeah, a date. Or…whatever you want,” he said carefully.

“I’d like that,” you murmured.

His rigid posture relaxed a bit with his quiet exhale of relief. Smiling slightly, with the left side of his mouth tipped higher than the right, he kissed your forehead and let his lips linger on your skin for a moment. The gentle sensation sent a cascading wave of butterflies through your chest, only subsiding when the moment did as well. The door rattled against your back, paired with your manager’s aggressive barking that commanded you to get back to work if you were done “fucking that clone in there.” Noticing the familiarly dangerous glare that infiltrated Hevy’s eyes, you smoothed your hands across his chest and said, “It’s okay. Just leave it.”

“He’s fucking awful to you,” Hevy frowned, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed, “But I’d say he’s more awful to you guys. I don’t know why he runs this place when he doesn’t even respect troopers.”

“Money,” was all Hevy answered, his tone laced with disgust.

To him, there was nothing more honorable than the kind of service he and his brothers provided the Republic—the galaxy, for that matter. As a clone, he felt important and empowered. Not degraded, despite common opinion regarding his controversial identity.

“I guess you’re right,” you nodded and kissed him quickly before he set you down on your feet, “I’ll see you out there?”

“Alright,” he watched you turn around and snuck a glance at your ass before asking, “So, it’s a yes, right?”

Laughing, you looked at him over his shoulder while departing. “Yes, asshole.”

He only chuckled in response as you slid through the crowd, the deep sound reverberating through your body. Even as the memory dissipated, you could still hear it in your ear like a taunting reminder of what you feared you lost…

“Hey,” a trooper’s voice interrupts your thoughts and brings you back to the present, “You’re Hevy’s girl, right?”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. Focusing your attention on the source of this question, you realize two troopers are standing in front of you across the bar top. One sports a goatee and the number “5” tattooed near his temple, while the other’s face is completely bare. It’s his armor that harbors some sort of decoration with the dark blue handprint spanning across the white plastoid material.

“Yeah,” you answer nervously, “Can I get you anything?”

The pair exchanges a glance before the one who spoke before—the one with the tattoo—shakes his head to your surprise. A gnawing anticipation chews at your stomach as you perceive the distant heaviness in their eyes, only heightening the fear you hope hadn’t already come true.

“Is he here?” You blurt out, “Hevy, I mean.”

Silence. Your vision begins to blur as tears prick your eyes, already reacting to what hasn’t been said. These troopers don’t need to tell you anything—you already know the reason for their solemn visit. Everything, from the grief in their expressions to the stiffness in their shoulders, reveals the doubt you had but ignored out of your love.

“No,” you shake your head, “It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true.”

“He asked us to tell you—” the trooper with the handprint on his armor said grimly.

“Stop,” you interrupt, swiping your falling tears away with shaky fingers, “He’s not—He’s coming back! He said he would come back—”

“He’s not,” the tattooed trooper interrupted, “He wanted you to know that he’s sorry.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to control the floodgates of your emotions that were now pouring over after waiting so long for an answer. That’s it? He’s sorry? Of course, you know that he probably couldn’t say anything else, but you didn’t even want to think about the circumstances of this awful turn of events. The permanence of his absence hurts more than anything else—it hurts so much that you can’t even breathe. Your chest tightens and constricts from the inside out, crushing your soul with the knowledge that Hevy is gone forever. And there is nothing you can do to change this truth.

“Okay,” you say, your voice strangely level all of a sudden as your entire body goes numb, “Thank you for telling me.”

The troopers who delivered this message look at you sympathetically, to which you can only respond with a forced smile that acknowledges their pain as well. If they knew Hevy, they must be grieving, too. Your mind is blank as you push away from the bar top and sling your thin jacket over your shoulders despite your shift that still needs to be completed. Not caring about that at the moment, you find yourself outside 79’s where a fake flurry of snow immediately meets your tear-streaked face. It feels so cold. You long for a warmer day that will engulf your shaking body and ease your sinking heart with a whisper of what you just lost. Or, what never belonged to you in the first place.

Such is the cost of war, which you knew but chose to defy. And now, you realize the cost of this ignorance. This audacity. This bravery. All of which you can find in him and that smug attitude you miss so dearly. Even though you have been thinking about him for a while, ever since he told you he was leaving for Rishi, you could hold onto the hope that he would return. Not anymore, though. This comfort is now gone, replaced by a void that swallows you whole as you fall to your knees and brace your hands against the frigid ground dotted with more snowflakes than you can count. There are so many that catch in your skin, just like there is an infinite amount of people who can fill this emptiness in your heart. Except, that isn’t true. Your soul is already searching for what is long gone—not what can come to be. Because springtime doesn’t interest you anymore. You wish to stay in this desolate winter if it means remaining close to his memory, as close as you can possibly be. But it’s not close enough. It never will be.

“You know something?” He once asked you as you both lay awake in your bed with your bare skin pressed together.

“Hm?” You replied, sliding into his arms when they beckoned for your embrace.

“I’m gonna be an ARC trooper.”

You laughed at this, knowing he was still a cadet at the time. “You haven’t even finished your basic training.”

“I know,” he dismissed, “That’s besides the point. I’m gonna be the best fuckin’ ARC trooper the Republic’s ever seen. I’m pretty much already there—just needs to be official.”

Smiling up at him in admiration, you kissed him on the cheek and replied, “I believe it.”

“Yeah?” He grinned at you and shifted his body so that you were now under him, “You believe in me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded with a serious expression, “The Republic is lucky to have you.”

“Aw, you flatter me. You’re not just saying this ‘cause you want another round, right?”

Staring up at him, you pretended not to notice how his hand slid between your legs to caress your inner thighs. “Of course, not. I really do think you’ll do a lot of good, Hevy.”

“Another round would be nice, though,” you added in a hushed whisper as you tugged him down for a kiss that he gladly reciprocated with an amused chuckle that warmed your heart.

A sob wracks your body as you realize you will never hear that laugh or feel the pressure of his kiss ever again. You will never humor his dreams that he deserved to achieve but couldn’t because of the heroics he just had to pull on Rishi. That was Hevy, though. A force to be reckoned with, so powerful that you often pause and wonder what kind of fuel ignites his distinctive fire. If anyone could have become an ARC trooper, it would have been him. It would have been him.

When you lift your head and stare up at the cloudy, gray sky, more snow whitens your cheeks with a biting intensity that makes you shiver. It falls on top of you, around you, and everywhere you can imagine. Because that’s what happens when you shoot too close to the stars—you fall. And you can only hope that someone or something catches you before the darkness consumes your being and seals your fate into a lingering whisper that nobody will remember.

[baronessblixen]

« What happened to you ? What’s this bruise on your face ? »

If you feel like writing again can you please do this prompt for me ? 🙏

Thank you for your patience! I've been thinking about this prompt for ages. Today I wrote it.

Set in season 6, hurt/comfort, some angst: Kersh puts Scully on another case without Mulder and once again she gets hurt. (wc: 1,347)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 11: Always Partners

She doesn't know if she's happy or sad that Mulder is here at the crime scene too. They weren't working together - again. And he shouldn't be here. She doubts that anyone called him. Even Skinner wouldn't dare. But now he's here. Much to her chagrin, he's not alone. She catches the exact second when Mulder spots her. One moment he's walking and smiling with Diana, the next he’s sprinting toward her, his face a mixture of terror and anger.

“What happened here?” he asks, his voice close to a bark. The paramedic working on Scully jumps back in surprise. But Mulder pays him zero mind.

“What happened to you?” His voice and his expression soften. He only has eyes for her. So far, Scully hasn’t found her voice. Too surprised is she by seeing him here. “What’s this bruise on your face?” He touches it gently and she winces. Mulder withdraws his hand as if burned and mumbles an apology.

“Who did this to you?” They’re surrounded by FBI, by paramedics and somewhere among these people lurks Diana, surely watching this exchange with a dagger between her teeth, waiting for the right moment to ram it into Scully’s back.

“Hey, give the lady some space, all right?” The paramedic elbows Mulder not so gently and he huffs in surprise.

“This lady is my partner.” The two enter a staring contest and Scully knows that neither of them can win it. The paramedic just wants to do his job and Mulder is all guard dog, refusing to move a single inch. She knows that his bark is worse than his bite, but if she doesn’t stop this, she will never be able to go home.

“Mulder, he’s just doing his job,” she says. Every word makes her jaw hurt. She barely registered the blow to her head. The attacker came out of nowhere, hit her good, and was gone before she even knew what was going on. Her memories as to what happened next are foggy. She remembers too many people, some of them asking her if she was okay. Skinner was there, and other faceless agents, one of whom called an ambulance. She remembers asking if they got the guy and passing out before she got an answer.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” The paramedic asks.

“Yes,” she says at the same time as Mulder says “no.” They look at each other. A battle of wills. Scully hears the paramedic sigh and tears her eyes away from Mulder’s.

“I’m sure,” she repeats. “I’m fine.” Her words make Mulder groan.

“Scully, your face is black and blue. Did you pass out? Did she pass out?” The paramedic nods and Scully fears Mulder might snap.

“What the fuck happened here?” he asks, his eyes wild. Scully reaches out to grasp his hand. He calms as soon as he feels her touch. His eyes find hers again as he slips to the ground, kneeling in front of her so that they’re more eye level. He’s in the way of the paramedic but of course, he doesn’t care. His hands on her knees, his eyes plead with her.

“I was doing my job, Mulder,” Scully explains. “You know our job can be dangerous. We were tailing the head of a mob. One of his cronies got spooked and ran. He took everyone down who tried to stop him and one of these people was me.”

“Why are you even on this case?”

“Because Kersh assigned me to it, as you very well know.” Even after what happened with Peyton Ritter, Kersh is determined to separate them as often as he can. She didn’t want this case. She asked Kersh why they needed her and all he did was tell her to do what she was told before he dismissed her.

“Every time he puts you a case, you get hurt,” Mulder says.

“That’s the job.” And she’ll have to repeat the same thing at dinner with her mother Friday night. She’ll fuss, too.

“This isn’t your job,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Fox? Are you ready to go?” For a moment, Scully had forgotten about Diana Fowley. Now she’s standing there, glaring at Scully’s face, at the bruises there and if she’s not mistaken, the other woman is smirking with glee. As if sensing Scully’s rising anger, Mulder’s hold on her tightens.

“You have to go on your own, Diana,” he says matter-of-factly. “Someone has to stay with Scully.”

“She’s not alone,” Diana says, pointing at the paramedic.

“She needs someone to take her home.” Scully just watches this exchange, trying not to gloat. She can’t put it into words, doesn’t want to think too hard about it, but for once, she’s not going to decline Mulder’s help. As much as she hates to admit it, she needs it. She knows she has a concussion. Her body is still full of adrenaline and the pain will only become worse over time.

“There are plenty of other agents here. You’re working with me.” Diana looks directly at her when she says it. “Right now, you and Agent Scully aren’t partners.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Diana,” Mulder says, getting up. He stands behind Scully, a hand on her shoulder. “Scully and I are always partners.”

“Your loss,” Diana says, flipping her hair. “Remember this when you want my help next time.” With that, she walks off. Scully, Mulder, and even the paramedic visibly relax as soon as she’s out of sight.

“That was… something,” Scully says. “Thank you, Mulder.”

“For what?” he asks.

“For showing up here, for standing up for me.”

“Hey, did they give you the good painkillers this time?” He grins at her and what else can she do but smile back even if it puts her in pain?

“So you’ll be taking her home?” The paramedic snaps off his gloves, finally done with treating her wounds. “She most likely has a concussion and needs to be monitored closely. I advise you to consider going to the hospital after all, Agent Scully.”

“Thank you,” she says. “I’m a medical doctor myself and I know the risks. I’d rather go home.” The paramedic shrugs and hands her a blister of painkillers. He throws Mulder a look that seems to say ‘good luck’.

“Now that he’s gone,” Mulder says, helping her up from her chair. He doesn’t let go of her hand and she’s thankful because her knees feel wobbly. “Are you sure you don’t want to get checked out?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” she says as they start walking. “Right now I just want to go home. Why is everyone looking at me?” she asks Mulder as they pass other agents. “Does my face look that bad?”

“How honest do you want me to be?” His smile is as shaky as she feels.

“Mulder?”

“You have a very nice shiner, Scully. It’s- well, you look like you lost a boxing match.”

“Great,” she mumbles.

“Hey,” he says, his voice more serious. “It could have been worse. He could have had- it could have been so much worse. And once again I wasn’t there.”

“None of this is your fault, Mulder.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But it feels like it. I should have been here. I should have-”

“You’re here now.”

“And I’m going to take care of you, Scully. Call me Dr. Mulder.”

“Well, then. Take me home, Dr. Mulder.”

He helps her into the car and kisses the cheek that’s not bruised.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he whispers before he’s gone again. She leans back, closing her eyes. She trusts Mulder to get her home and to take care of her. The last few hours are a distant memory. Here in the car with him, surrounded by his scent, by his mere presence, she can relax. The pain is getting stronger and she knows Mulder will suffer with her through the next few days. Just like partners do. And that’s what they are, no matter how hard Diana Fowley and Kersh may try to separate them.

[devilruin]

【 Please note! 】 ⎯⎯⎯ Please remember to look at each author's do not interact criteria and blog rules before interacting with them! Also, please check each work for specific tags!

if a link to a piece is :

⛧ ⋅  italicized ― it contains explicit content

⛧ ⋅  bold ― it contains dark content

⛧ ⋅  italicized and bold ― it contains both dark and explicit content

✧ @merakiui ― mera's ingenuity always blows my mind. the way she places little hidden tidbits of information within her works has me scanning every line like a detective (and i adore mysteries!) she has a certain kind of poetic prose that draws me in and wraps itself around my brain.

personal picks : being general lilia's spoil of war (oh to be pitied and protected by the great general himself...) , professor ashengrotto (mmm...a gross misuse of power paired with favoritism always tastes divine) , cat's cradle with childe (reader playing games they can't win... it always seems like a good idea, until its not), hatefully yours with scaramouche (unfortunately reader will always going to be fucked no matter what option they choose) , kaeya and childe as a double yandere team (said it before and i'll say it again, if these two were to actually put everything aside and work together, well, all i can say is good luck), and diluc and kaeya as roommates (also a crazy team and since they're both super volatile, there will likely be some pretty nasty insults flung around on a daily basis)

✧ @mirdance ― kay is just such a joy to be around. their sense of humor and chill vibes always make me feel at ease, and the jokes they make normally have me wheezing with laughter! not to mention their cosplays are top notch! they really put so much of themselves into their works and it shows! each of their pieces have so much soul to them, and i love it!

personal picks : inamorati with pierro (tools need to be used often to be kept sharp, and the way pierro uses reader for his own machinations is just spot on) , heizou first kiss (so cute! i wanna squish his cheeks) , kaeya first kiss prompt (power move: sleep with your crush's crush to see if they're better than you (spoiler: they're not)) , dottore somnophilia (real quick, do you think he'd fuck reader on a bloody experimentation table to torment them once they woke up?) , and all for her majesty with the tsaritsa (on my knees for you, my queen of ice)

✧ @monstrouslyobsessed ― momster is an amazing writer and artist whose works mainly feature supernatural entities. their dedication to their works and the level of detail they put into each piece really makes their works shine! i love them so much and always enjoy seeing new excerpts from their works!

personal picks : his sacrificial lamb (please bite me sir... i am begging...) , i’m your god now (poor reader being passed from god to demon...) , like a moth to the flame (yes... i love it... brb taking notes on how to write because this is so good), yuki onna headcanons (i adore how cunning oyuki is! reminds me of the fact that most people don't realize they have frostbite until it's too late), a holy knight, defiled (all dragons are welcomed with open arms here) , mother’s vessel with jenova (the slice with sephiroth is perfectly timed, and jenova's desperation for freedom is almost pitiful...almost.) , poor unfortunate soul (move over ursula its time for the real witch of the sea!) , and vile affection (do the divine do what's best for the people they're supposed to protect? or do they do what's best for them?)

if you would like to be removed from this list, please let me know!

© 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 — 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝟏-𝟏𝟑-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

[6leggedhorse]

I read The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec, I am hungover.

It’s rare for me to have an emotional reaction to books. The last time I had one was when I finished You Love Me by Caroline Kepnes. To make it clear, I am also a huge fan of the You series and I fucking hate the fourth installment of the series. But, enough about that series, let’s dive into this book. Also I know I said I would see about posting often; I had a research paper and one more final that had me losing my damn mind. Luckily I passed my classes and after a second break and some job hunting, I’m here finally. Thank the gods.

Plot

I don’t know how to say this without spoiling it but in six words: Magic is desirable, emotional roller coaster. The plot was *Chef’s kiss* juicy and amazing, it was crafted at an easy to follow pace. It was so addicting and so well paced, I read this book for 2 hours in the morning and about n hour and a half at the dealership. It was that good. Basically, you read the story about and between Loki and Angrboda and how their relationship began. Now this book is inspired by Norse mythology, and it’s a young adult fantasy romance (I think). The plot is well crafted and it always leaves you wondering how things are going to play out even though you know what’s going to happen and play out. It’s the fear of the unknown and the known. This book left me in tears, I cried, hell, I loved the push and pull of the characters and the angst. Angst is my drug.

Characters & Scenes

The characters are absolutely amazing. Development was apparent obviously and descriptions of the characters and their personalities was so crystal clear, I got ATTACHED. I latched onto Loki for sure and cheered him on, and got slightly angy at him, but hey, that book makes you go through it over and over and over again. The dialogue and character interacts between each other was also very beautiful and believable. Hell, Loki was (and still is in real life) a baddie and I have his addie hehe ;).

The scenes were so beautiful, there was enough detail that you could just see how well designed they were. They also fit the characters and their world so good, that it was overwhelming. The visuals in the story are just so vivd and it blows my mind that someone harbors the skill to write something surround Loki and norse mythology with such love and attention to every little detail without fail. I was shook, I still am very much so shook.

Rating 10/10 ⭐️s

I strongly recommend this book if you too, are addicted to angst. This book also is an amazing read for fellow Lokeans who want something mild in terms of spice factor and just adore Loki in general. If you’re into slow burns, this might be a great recommendation for you too! Needless to say, if I wanted to, I could’ve finish this in one week. It’ that good. If a book could leave me in awe, tears or any emotion in general, you can bet your bippy that I will be hungover the book. I still think about some of the shocking scenes, it has that strong of an impact.

Conclusion

Please read it. I got it from the Apple Bookstore and if I recall correctly that it costs… $12 dollars…? It’s so worth it, however it is very addictive so remember to take breaks and do some self care in between.

Until next time! Hopefully tomorrow!

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

hi there! im wondering if you have any fics recs for an au where peter doesnt get blipped? or also any OP/insanely strong peter fics you enjoy? i’m fairly new to reading spiderman fics and would love any recs! thanks!! 💖

Hi!! Sorry it took so long to respond. It's been a busy couple of weeks!! But I totally have a few BAMF Peter Parker fics in my bookmarks! And one very good fic where neither Tony nor Peter blipped.

🕸 to fear and to fly by idyllic_dae Rated T

“You’ll come to learn that there’s only one thing worse than having nothing.” Trying to hold onto his fight, Peter shoots back, “Yeah? And what’s that?” “To have nothing, after being able to believe you could have everything.”

The streets are dirty, crowded, and the jagged bumps in the asphalt are hardly comfortable to sleep on. They’re home, though.

Peter is just about finished with New York City. It’s gotten impossibly harder to find even a scrap of food, and what little belongings he does have are unlikely to keep him alive through the winter. And the memories. God, the painful memories here.

So he saves up. Makes a plan to get out of there.

Then, somehow, he accidentally saves Tony fucking Stark from a gang of eight mercenaries, and the majestic plan disintegrates into ash.

The worst part about it, he knows, isn’t even that he met Tony. It’s that Tony met him.

^^ This one is incomplete still but it is SO VERY GOOD.

🕸 Trojan Teenager by Sara (ctrsara) @ctrsara Rated T

Tony, Peter, Happy, and Daren make a trip to California during Peter's Spring Break, both to get some business done at SI-Malibu, and to look into another hotspot for the human trafficking ring they've been trying to break down. As it often does when self-sacrificial Spider-kids are involved, things go a little off the rails.

^^ This one is part of a series but can be read alone. However, I highly recommend the whole series! It's crazy creative and super well-written.

🕸 turn back the clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by madasthesea @madasthesea Rated T

Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through.

And if that isn't bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

^^ This fic has me on the edge of my seat every time I read it, I swear

🕸 The Worst Field Trip by mak5258 Rated G

Peter's kidnapping (Before You Go, chapter 40) from other POVs.

^^ This is part of a much larger series but can be read alone. It's sooo good! If you're looking for a longer read, it's parent fic, Before You Go , is also great.

🕸Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spider by Bergen Rated T

“Tony fucking Stark,” Clint says, and he points at the black smoke. “Did you blow up that base, you piece of shit?” “Absolutely not. I almost got blown up with it.” Clint is not alone. A few yards behind him, a scrawny figure halts and squints at Tony from underneath a frayed baseball cap. Sunken eyes. Dressed in a black undershirt and cargo pants. Can’t be older than eighteen. “What are you doing here?” Clint jerks his head at the boy behind him. “SHIELD mission. Extracting a hostage.” Tony glances back at the teenager, whose face has now morphed into something entirely impassive. “He seems thrilled about his rescue.” — Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

^^ Oh my goodness. This one has a super strong stoic Peter, who also manages to (eventually) be so super soft. I love everything by the writer, honestly.

🕸 Peter Protection Protocol by JAWorley Rated T

"The hell?" Knife guy breathes. He looks at Tony, and then back at the suit. Ned can hear the wheels spinning in his mind. If I have Iron Man, then who is in the suit?

There’s silence for a second, then another. Everyone waits with baited breath until Peter’s tinny voice comes out of the suit. “Give me back my Tony.”

OR

Peter’s class barely makes it in the door to Stark Industries for their field trip when they find themselves in a hostage situation. Peter and Ned know exactly what they have to do to save Mr. Stark from the bad guys. A short fic that’s supposed to be fun and easy to read. Not crack, just fun. Minor angst near the end.

^^ This author has SO MANY super fun and amazing fics, but this one definitely fits the BAMF Peter Parker bill.

Insane Mistakes Everybody Makes by Fluencca Rated T

The Avengers' kids are kidnapped for leverage and ransom. Tony tries to find them, while Peter--who somehow is part of this mess--tries to keep the kids safe.

^^ Love this one so much. It has all the amazing BAMF Peter.

🕸 Survivor's Guide to The Galaxy by fanfic1892 Rated T

Space rock crunched under Peter’s armor-clad feet and he dropped his hand from his eyes, turning to Tony. "Mister Stark," he said softly. "What do we do now?”

The question was entirely reasonable, Tony supposed, but being the one expected to answer it was like an infinity gauntlet punch to the gut. (Now there was a unit of measurement he could submit to the CGPM.)

Or: In a billion-to-one cosmic fluke, Tony and Peter both survive the snap and are left alone on Titan with an alien spaceship and no plan in sight. Peter’s presence brings Tony to make a tough call: diverting their course away from Earth in search of food and fuel. With the galaxy in shambles and no clear route home, the two survivors must carve out a path of their own somewhere in the great infinity.

^^ This is one of my favorite fics of all time.

As usual, I could go on for days with fics I love and would love to share with others. But we'll stop here for now. lol. And look! I didn't even self-promote this time! Thank you so much for asking. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments!!

[octuscle]

Hello, Chronivac support? This is the first time I am using your app and I am not sure how to set the right settings, I hope you can help me. You see, I have a boyfriend who is submissive, and I am the dom of the 2. Even if I am not very dominating and sometimes I just play along to feed his submissivemeness, I thought it was enough for him and that he liked it... but now I realize I was wrong.

The other day he heft his laptop on the table, the incognito browser was open and I could see he had been watching pics and videos of what I would call... real doms. Tough guys, cigar smoking guys, some wearing leather or rubber gear, some tattooed, some pierced... many different kind of doms, but none of them were like me, not a single one. I dont have the body or the attitude he wants...

But I have seen a lot of different guys in his laptop, so I don't know what does HE wants eiher. I thought that maybe this app can be set in a way that I am transformed in the kind of man he really wants to his side, the dom boyfriend, master or whatever he really wishes for... I want to set Chronivac so I am changed exactly into what he dessires, and every time he changes his mind about what he wants, I want to change along.

Can you help?

Ever heard of a werewolf? I could try something experimental with you. A weekend where your friend can live out all his fantasies. His darkest thoughts control your transformation. Not only yours, but his as well. You will not be aware that you are changing, you will spend the weekend like a werewolf. In a completely different body. But I will configure the transformation so that on Monday morning you can remember every single second. And then let's see if you want to do that more often.

Friday night. Your friend is sitting in front of the TV. You're cooking. Vegetarian vegetable curry. Suddenly it hits you like a blow. You throw the spoon into the pot. Fuck! What a pain this is. With one blow you hurl the cooking pot off the stove. A huge noise. A huge mess. Your friend comes running into the kitchen. You are breathing heavily. Your huge hairy chest rises and falls. You snap at your boyfriend that he should be a good slave and clean up the mess. Your friend looks at you with wide eyes. And gets down on his knees to wipe the floor. And while he does that, his body starts to twitch. The hair of the bitch becomes short, as you always shear them. And his beard grows. His polo shirt becomes a harness, his bare ass sticks out of his chaps. "Leave the dirt, lick my boots!" you command. "And then slowly work your way up with your tongue." Your kitchen changes. Your apartment is changing. There is a smell of sweat, tobacco and poppers in the air. Black, worn furniture, lots of leather, raw concrete. Instead of a TV, a St. Andrew's cross on the wall. And in the bedroom a cage for your boyfriend.

"Fuck yeah, that's my good boy," you grunt as your friend arrives at your stinky wet armpit. It's still early in the evening. There is still plenty of time before you fuck your boyfriend in the sling of the darkroom of your favorite bar. You take your cock out of your pants with your free hand. And then you push your boyfriend's head back down. The weekend starts promisingly.

48 hours of sex later you are sitting naked on the sofa. A cigar in your face. The face of your friend on your cock. Boy, did you have fun. And now a final climax. You shoot your load and your friend swallows greedily. Then you fall into a deep sleep. It's 04:00 in the morning when you wake up. The TV is on. Both of you have fallen asleep on the sofa. You lead your still half asleep friend to bed. And you realize that it was not a dream.

Fantastic inspiration by @eurobeef 

[kattythingz]

Attack attack attack 🕯️🥤🥐🥝🐝

Literally every one of these questions was a targeted attack, what the FUCK Jinx. But fine.

🕯️ - on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? Why is that?

Unless I'm in a bad mood and/or the premise doesn't interest me, it's actually most often a 9. Sometimes even a 10. It took me a long time to realize this (hello fiction workshop), but it turns out my passion for editing is its own beast. Something about helping others' writing. Pointing out their mistakes not to laugh at them, but to further their writing because I want to see that!!! I want my friends to see their best writing and I want to help them get there! It's the greatest honor! And, when I really get into it, it's honestly just a fun process!

(Usually. We don't talk about the fucking blood that went into editing ch4 of Crown.)

🥤 - recommend an author or fanfic you love.

MAY I INTRODUCE THE FINE PEOPLE TO @asthmaticbee's BRILLIANT HP X FMA AU "of elder, stone and cloth (of death, rebirth and closure)". THE SURPRISE RAREPAIR IS AMAZING AND I AM SO UPSET I DON'T HAVE OTHER CONTENT FOR THEM AND THE CHARACTER WRITING IS PHENOMENAL. THIS AUTHOR GETS ED ON SUCH A DEEP LEVEL. It quite literally had me high for the three or so days I spent bingeing the fic. I CANNOT recommend it enough.

🥐 - name one internet reference that will always make you laugh.

SONIC FANDUBS LMAO. My little brother and I recite them at each other all the time (I suspect it's a verbal stim at this point?), and I can't. It's so fucking funny each time.

🥝 - do you lie a lot? What's the most recent lie you told?

Jinx, seriously. What have I done to insult you lately? /j

I do actually lie a lot lmao. That's kinda a necessity in a controlling household like mine, so it uh. Kinda happens like breathing. Which is mayhaps not a good thing, but. You know. Gotta do what you gotta do. I can't remember my most recent lie, aha. (Another shining endorsement for me, ik.)

🐝 - tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them.

I am honestly so blessed to say—it's so many people? I can't even tag them all off the top of my head. The recent support I received on ch5 of Crown was so fucking huge, I'll forever be unwell over how nice all my readers are?? I'm so grateful to everyone.

Off the top of my head, however, I MUST specifically tag @ilovepannacotta @sirchenchen @hijinks-n-lowjinks @crystalizedirongoblin and @thewitchqueen281

Panna, you brilliant fucking bitch, you've been struggling with your art lately but you are genuinely my favorite edling artist out there. You never fail to blow my expectations out of the water, and I hope you'll agree with me on that one day. Chen, your mind is so brilliant, and your aus are so thoughtful and deep and you ask questions I never considered before that then get ME thinking. Jinx, your understanding of Greed as a character, and Al too, have quite literally saved my ass several times. Citrine, I... can't think of sth specific cuz we don't actually talk often, but your support for my yj x fma crossover motivated me so much more than you think, esp since I was in a dry spell with Crown at the time. And Avi, you've literally been my ground support since ch1 of Crown. Your early asks gave me so much hope that this revamp might actually stand a chance, and then you further devastated me by writing me a goddamn 8k fic.

I'm grateful to all my readers, but you guys esp... you did sth deep to me. And I don't think I'll be normal again cuz of it. I love y'all <3

[b0nten]

SEASONS OF THE HEART

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ as he promised you that you were more than everything combined, he must’ve had himself a change of heart like halfway through his plan, because his voice trailed off exactly as he passed the exit light.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ inspired by noah kahan’s stick seson. can i still classify baji fics as being spoilers? spoilers i guess. angst, mentions of blood. mentions of reader smoking.

as you promised me that i was more than all the miles combined

baji doesn’t do feelings. he doesn’t do long-term, and he, for sure as hell, doesn’t do love.

still, why can’t he explain this tingly thing that he is feeling, this.. fuzziness in his chest? why does he feel his stomach tense when you laugh? or why does his heart feel shredded when you wave him goodbye?

why does chifuyu smile when he tells stories about you, and why does his mother ask him more often if you’re coming over?

if he doesn’t do any of those things, what is this feeling that’s been bubbling up in his chest for what feels like billions of years? what’s been boiling in his stomach, threatening to spill at any time, for the last few weeks and what is that little voice that tells him to “just do it”?

why is he, right now, holding you by your shoulders, struggling to fight off the demon that keeps telling him to clash his lips onto yours?

is he really this fucking stupid? you ask yourself, before you take matters into your own hands. you taunt him, slender fingers weaving through off-white linen, wrinkling the thin fabric, and perfect manicure clashing with the carelessly knotted tie that you try to fix every morning, before you both let all second thoughts dissipate into the rusty air of the junkyard.

the way your name melts off his tongue today is sweeter, sickening dare you even say, and it makes you fifty times hungrier for him than you were just a minute ago.

you must’ve had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive

“be my girlfriend.”

he doesn’t ask, he doesn’t care. right now, for him, it’s this way or nothing at all anymore.

because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign

“baji..” you can only smile and comply, because today might be the first and last time you accept one of baji’s demands.

loud and clear as the birds migrating across the mellow, velvet sky, your heart pounds in your chest, in synch with toman’s division captain’s and there’s this soft and cloudy feeling that sets in your heart, tattooing from ventricle, across to the atrium, this preciously cruel moment.

kept on driving straight and left our future to the right

you gaze into his eyes and remember the wind blowing through your hair, cooling you off from the suffocating tokyo humidity you tried so hard to get used to, to no avail. engine sparks and tire tracks now play a new role in your life, along with the boy that stays so still in front of you it’s worrying.

the stars can’t compare to the beam baji’s smile gives you and the thought of him positively rips your soul into two — one half for you, and the other for him.

now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can’t face

“can it get more beautiful than this?” you hear him break the silence theatrically and, instinctively, your eyebrows furrow together, as response to his talent of ruining some, and maybe all, tender moments.

only, today, he isn’t ruining anything, today is his, and so are you, so you can only look at him with the soft smile of being in love for the first time and take his in, hoping the memory will permanently grow a root into even the smallest corner of your mind.

memories are something even smoking weed does not replace

and curse your bad habit, because your lighter falls from your pocket right then, allowing baji to chuckle one last time. his hand reaches for your cheek, wiping away the small tear that your own couldn’t, and he tries to perch himself up to kiss your forehead like always.

his little fangs peek from underneath his tear-ridden lips while his hand tries it’s best to soothe your little sobs, and this time he can’t promise you anything but the world for the next time he sees you.

“i hate lying to you, ” he whispers, “but today i might lie to myself, i’ll keep telling myself i gave and will give you all the stars and the galaxies.”

and i am terrified of weather ‘cause i see you when it rains

“let go” he whispers and reaches to his back to take the traveling hand away.

when you wipe your face an obvious streak of maroon clings to your face and the smell of copper makes your eyes water and stomach turn inside out. sickening or repulsive are not words strong or good enough to describe the empty pit the sharp odor of the mass you’re now covered in creates in your stomach.

“i don’t wanna” you simply say, and he smiles, because that’s all that he has the strength for anymore.

ear-wrenching silence creates a bubble around you, and your breath hitches in your chest when he finally, thankfully, says something.

“there’s one thing you have to do, though. and promise me you will, ” you’re skeptical of his wish, but you still hear him out, hoping it’s nothing crazy. “two things, actually, now that i think about it.” he corrects.

“i’m hearing you out.” you nod, choking back on your neglected cries. you’d like to swear, scream, shout and smash at everyone and everything that is anywhere near you, but him.

“leave the gang. and, most importantly, be happy.”

you’re left dumbfounded, and so is everyone else. even the haitanis, kisaki and hanma look at him like they’ve heard the biggest secret the earth holds.

you bargain with yourself in your own mind, the prison only he knows how to escape by heart, because he’s been in there enough times to save you from it. it’s no wonder he lifts a hand up again and simply has your face so close to his you can hear his struggling breaths.

“so, what do you say?” he asks with the same boyish grin he slaps on his face to annoy you, apparently even on his deathbed.

today, you’re feeling angry. maybe if the gods weren’t cruel, baji would be asking you that in ten years time, under completely different circumstances. you curse fate into next year, wondering why it had to stomp your heart to bits and slice your soul clean in two, only to let one part wilt prematurely.

today, you’re not feeling remorseful, you want revenge on fate, and that’s part of why you’re giving baji everything he wants: if there’s one person who knows how to cheat the Moirai, it’s him and you, together, against the rest of this cruel, despicable world.

“i promise, ” you start off slowly, as you feel the eyes of everyone widen in shock and disbelief, burning holes in the nape of your neck and top of your head, “i’ll leave the gang, and be happy for you, baji.” you finish, forehead clashing down onto his. your hands cling to him like the leaves cling to their branches upon autumn coming, only this time, your linen is wrinkled and and stained, and baji can only whisper a faint thank you.

he lets your long-awaited cries somewhat consume themselves, before he finally whispers the three words you never took so seriously until now.

“i love you, y/n.” he stresses the second word, he wants you to remember it until you meet again.

“i love you too.” you answer back.

one smile, and it’s over. then, it all comes clashing down: as red as your shirt and cheeks are from the blood and the crying, just as red is everything you see around you now.

should you yell? you don’t know. should you fight? you don’t know that either. just moments ago, baji was being his usual self, while laying bleeding in your arms. you don’t know how you’re supposed to feel, how you want to feel or how you feel. the world around you is simple static, drowning out the screams and gasps of other boys. it pierces through your eardrums and it hurts, for sure, but it’s also clarifying.

you press one last kiss to your now boyfriend’s temple, then simply get up and walk away.

“mikey, draken, chifuyu,” you cought to get their attention, “i’m not a liar.”

albeit stunned, and partly in denial, that’s all you need to say for them to understand what you mean.

“i announce my resignation as strategic analyst of the tokyo manji gang.”

the words are harsh, but the hurt and sorrow calmly seep through them. it’s peculiar, bizarre, disturbing even. you stress the fifth word like baji’s did to love no more than a few minutes ago.

will you be happy? you hope so. will you be happy without him? no. never.