#i’ve nearly forgotten how much reading makes me want to write

[erosology]

*buying erotica at the bookstore* this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes this is for research purposes—

[rafesangelita]

hi angel! i love your work so much and fell in love with bambi!reader, so i was hoping you could write something for me ^_^

can you pls pls pls write bambi!reader comforting rafe after he gets into it with ward? i feel like she’d know exactly how to comfort himmm (pure fluff pls, i read too much smut lmaooo)

warnings: ward cameron, arguing, shouting, a little bit of physical violence, poor rafe who deserves so much better, mention of murder (i’m not referencing peterkin), fluff, soft petting, words of affirmation

a/n: aww bambi!reader has been getting so much love, it makes my heart happy to know that you enjoy the works that she’s in <3

“you had one job, rafe.. one!” ward had been shouting at rafe for nearly an hour already, his face flush with anger. “you really have a way of fucking things up, huh? i should put a caution sign on your forehead.” rafe’s fist clenched as he listened to his father, trying his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest with every word that ward spat.

“i already told you that i couldn’t close out the business accounts and wire the money to a different one. apparently i’m not next in line to own cameron development anymore. ‘you know something about that?” rafe was in disbelief when he had to find out from a service representative that his own father took him off of the family business, something that he worked hard all these years for in order to prove he was worthy of running.

ward froze. he had forgotten about that. “were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just gonna be a coward about it?” rafe stood up, towering over his father with that crazy look in his eyes. “what you forgot to do before you faked your own death instead of facing your problems like a man, was take my name off of the inheritance of tanneyhill.” he laughed, “i own this shit now.” rafe stepped closer, backing ward into the wall. “get out of my house.” ward was seething, his hand coming up to fist rafe’s shirt.

“your house? i’m the one who worked like a dog to get us here.” ward said through gritted teeth, shoving rafe in his chest. rafe stumbled, scoffing out a laugh as he then pushed his father. “worked like a dog to get us here but you were more than willing to leave me here while you start a new life in fuckin’ guadeloupe.” rafe fought to keep his emotions at bay.

“leave. and don’t ever come back.” ward’s chest was rising and falling, both him and rafe glaring at one another. “you’re cut off. good luck keeping up with this place on your own.” ward smiled bitterly. “cut off?” rafe narrowed his eyes, “i’ve been cut off, dad. i haven’t used a cent of yours since i was nineteen. all this time i’ve been making money my own way, and a lot of it too. ‘seems like your old man brain forgot about that.” rafe nudged ward as he walked past, his father following him out of the master bedroom.

“i’m leaving. when i come back i want you out of here,” rafe grabbed his truck keys, his skin on fire as he looked up the staircase, “and by the way, asshole, i’m not by myself. i got the prettiest girl on the island on my arm everywhere i go.” ward watched as his son walked out the front door. rafe was seeing red the whole time he drove to your house, cursing under his breath as he recalled his father’s words.

“the fucking nerve that guy has.” he punched the steering wheel, nostrils flaring as tears pricked at his eyes. he was the only one who was there to take care of things when ward was ‘gone’. even going as far as committing crimes so his father wouldn’t face any kind of scrutiny. yet, there he was telling him that he was a fuck up.

rafe spent the next five minutes mumbling to himself, his hands shaking as he parked outside your driveway. you were curled up on the porch swing, an open book in your lap when he walked up the stone path. all it took was one look at your boyfriend to have you scrambling up from your seat, eager to soothe him in any way you can. “oh, ray, what’s wrong?” you guided him inside, locking the door shut before both of you made your way up to your room.

“it’s ward. he came back just to tell me shit about not closing the bank accounts under cameron development.” you knew all about rafe’s conflict with his father. from the way he favored everyone else over his eldest, to the constant nagging and insults. sitting rafe down on the edge of your bed, you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk at the sight of defeat in his shoulders, his eyes void of any emotion.

slipping his shoes off, you took your usual seat in his lap, stroking the outline of his jaw as he vented. “i’ll never be good enough for him. i killed for him goddamit, and what do i get in return? ‘i should put a caution sign on your forehead.’ rafe imitated ward’s voice from earlier. you blinked, pecking his cheek. “you’re an amazing son, rafe. shame on him for not recognizing that.” rafe stared up at you, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

you were the only one that looked at him with pure adoration, the only one who made him feel like he had a purpose. “i think you’re amazing, rafe. you don’t sit around, waiting to get things done, you’re so helpful, and so, so kind— to me.” he chuckled at the clarification, rubbing a large hand over your knee. “you think so?” he leaned his head against your chest, your arms coming up to hold him. “i know so.” you sighed, breathing in his scent.

“wanna be little spoon tonight?” your voice alone made him relax, his eyes fluttering shut.

“..yeah.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Neither Gone Nor Forgotten

sequel to No Body to Bury. This isn’t edited, if you find any errors feel free to let me nice, just be nice about it.

------

Planning a funeral for Danny turned out both easier, and harder, then Batman had anticipated. Easier because he wasn’t deep in grief the way he had been when planning previous funerals, and harder because, well, the person the funeral was for was still around to have opinions. Not that Danny was hard to please, he seemed happy with just about everything, but he was struggling with whether he should tell his human family and friends. He really wanted to, but he was scared.

“I don’t think they’ll understand,” Danny said, his legs dangling over the edge of the tall building he and Batman were currently sitting on, holding a milkshake Bruce had bought for him. “Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all supported me while I was still only half dead and knew. I haven’t kept entirely out of the news since starting to work with you guys and I know they’re upset I abandoned them, I’ve seen it when I check on them. There’s no way they can understand how much changes when you die, I watch over them, but Ic an never go back.

“I can’t be what they want me to be, I’m not really Danny anymore at all, and they’d want me to be what I was. They’d want me to be human, and I’m just not anymore. I would want them to think I was completely dead and gone, but they’ve seen me in the news so there’s no chance of that.”

“Hm,” Batman said helpfully. “Write them a letter, I’ll make sure it’s delivered and then they can come on your terms, or not,” He suggested, he’d found writing letters to be a lot easier. “Like a will?”

Danny cocked his head to the side as he thought about that and then nodded slowly. “That’s a good idea, thanks Batman. You’re not nearly as bad at emotions as everyone says,” The young ghost said, bumping his shoulder against Bruce’s. It made the older hero smile. He wasn’t surprised to find that Phantom was gone when he turned back towards where the boy was sitting, his small smile remained as he threw out the abandoned milkshake and went on with his patrol.

It was two days later when the letter appeared on his desk, not yet folded or in an envelope which Bruce knew was permission to read it. He appreciated that because he would have had a hard time resisting the curiosity even if it was already sealed.

Dear Sam, Jazz, and Tucker

First of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I loved you all and I didn’t run away, I didn’t want to leave you. It was the GIW, remember when I said I was a ‘who’s who of who can’t catch ghosts’? I guess I underestimated at least one of them because they finally got me. Of course it was Phantom they were trying to kill, but is anyone surprised that they failed? It was Danny who they ended up killing, and now I can’t go back.

I didn’t realize what a big difference there would be between being half dead and all dead, a little humanity goes a long way I guess. Don’t worry I’m not going to become Dan, but I can’t be Danny anymore either, just Phantom left now and while I still love you and watch over you as I am, it’s not like I can just ‘live my life’ anymore. It hurts too much to try and pretend to be alive now, and ghosts are creatures of instinct, I can’t go against the natural order of life and death and come back to you, no matter how much I love you or how much you miss me.

Batman and some of the other heroes have offered to arrange a funeral for Danny, this time there’s actually a corpse to bury after all. I won’t be there, but it’s important for both the living and the dead that the dead have a grave, a place to grieve lost life. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, if it’s too hard or you’re too mad at me still. But if you do come or ever visit I’ll feel you there and it’ll make me happy, and maybe it’ll be some closure for you? I never meant to hurt you.

I’ll still be around to protect you, I’ll protect everyone I can. That’s been my obsession since the start hasn’t it? And Jazz don’t you start, ghost’s obsessions are what keeps us here and in one piece, I don’t need therapy. And I guess that’s the heart of it isn’t it? I’m not human anymore, and I can’t pretend to be, and we wouldn’t understand each other anymore. Not really. Ghosts don’t change much though so I’ll always love you and when you die maybe we can be friends again, if you can forgive me for this.

Forever young and yours,

Phantom

 Batman read the letter and sat quietly with it for a few long minutes, thinking about it and also questioning some parts, like who Dan was. It was sad of course, but it was sweet too, and he didn’t think that Phantom’s friends would be nearly as upset with him as he thought they would be. Finally he sighed and folded it up, finding a envelope and address it to Danny’s sister since she seemed like the best one to make sure they were all there when it was opened and read. He put it in the folder to be sent out and then leaned against his desk.

“Are you really not going to come?” He asked the empty room, and after waiting for a moment wasn’t surprised when Danny stepped out from nowhere. He’d started to get a sense of when Phantom was there, untouchable and unseen.

“No, I’ll be there, but only the way spirits usually are. I won’t be there physically, just in spirit,” He said, smiling at his own pun. Batman chuckled a little and nodded.

“I understand why you don’t want them to know that, I won’t let on,” He assured. “I think you’ve done the right thing letting them know.”

Danny nodded and then vanished again, this time out through the window, properly leaving the office and Batman alone again.

Batman had the discussion with the rest of the Justice League without Phantom present so they could avoid accidental offense. Not everyone would come, not everyone could come, Batman banned a few of the more literal heroes who would not understand why they were having a funeral when Phantom was still here, even though he had actually died. But a decent amount did come, and Batman had a feeling that the ones Phantom would care about most was Bruce himself, and Diana, who was coming.

-----

When the day of the funeral came Batman and Diana stood outside the little chapel to welcome people. They weren’t technically family of course, apparently Diana was distantly through an ancestor of hers and adoption, and Bruce thought of himself as a paternal figure to Danny, besides they’d been here early setting everything up. The nice coffin was already at the front of the room, closed since it was empty with while lilies placed on top and decorating the little building along with some roses and candles.

He wasn’t particularly surprised when the first person who showed up was Danny’s big sister Jasmine Fenton driving Danny’s two friends. His parents weren’t there but Phantom had mentioned it might not be a good idea for them to come because they would probably be disruptive. Both Jazz and Tucker’s eyes were rimmed red like they’d been crying and Sam’s jaw had a stubborn set to it like clenching it was the only thing keeping her lips from trembling.

They reached the steps, Batman nodded to them and Diana gave them a sad smile. Jazz looked through the open doors, her breath hitching. “Is he in there?” She asked, pointing to the coffin.

Batman shook his head, voice soft and rough as he responded. “Phantom said he’d bring the body later, Less chance for something to go wrong and… I don’t know if it would hurt him, but I think it’s easy to see why he’d be protective of it.”

Jazz’s lip trembled and she took a deep breath, behind her Sam had wrapped an arm around Tucker who had started to cry again, turning to hide against her shoulder. “When you see him again tell him we’re not mad at him, please?” Sam said, her voice hard with repressed emotions, it almost sounded angry but there was a subtle difference.

“He’s right that we can’t understand everything,” Jazz said, biting her lip for a moment before continuing. “But after something like this he needs space, and we won’t rush him. If he needs to start a new life, we get it, everything must remind him of trauma right now, but if he ever wants to get back in touch with us. Well, I’ll love him forever too. But also tell him that he should have been more careful in that letter he wrote if any of us had been feeling suicidal his comment about being friends again after death might have been the last push we needed over the metaphorical edge-”

She was taking a deep breath to continue her lecture when Sam wrapped her other arm around Jazz’ shoulder and pulled her away. “Well we’re not, it’s fine, let’s go sit down before Tucker collapses from dehydration from all these tears.”

“I’m not going to collapse! I’m not even crying that much!” Tucker insisted, his voice audibly wet.

Batman and Diane kept their faces straight while Sam dragged them all into the little building and to seats in the front row. Then Batman’s lips twitched up in a slight smile and Diana gave a weak laugh. “I knew they wouldn’t be as angry with Phantom as he feared,” Batman said, trying to keep his amusement under control.

“What a precocious girl, a big sister through and through,” Diana agreed and sniffled a little, it seemed their grief had gotten to her a little. He understood.

Slowly more people filtered in, just other heroes now, and one young woman called Val. Sam said to let her in even though there was clearly tension there, the heroes didn’t ask.

The scheduled time of the funeral Diana and Batman went inside, closing the door after them and, since Danny hadn’t wanted a priest so Batman started to make his way to the front to start things off.

“We’re here today in remembrance of Danny Phantom, a brave young man lost to soon in the line of duty. He never should have had to join the fight so young,” Batman stumbled a little when he saw Jason slip in at the back of the chapel. He had sort of though Jason wasn’t coming, but there he was, dressed in his Red Hood get up, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Batman could tell that he was on edge, but he was here, and it would make Danny happy. He took a deep breath and carried on with his planned remarks.

When he was done he stepped down off the little podium and Jazz stepped up, pulling some queue cards out of her pocket, taking a deep breath and launching into a planned speech. She was a good public speaker, she managed to keep it together through her speech but her words were clearly very heartfelt.

It went well, a few more people spoke, by the end Batman was actually having a hard time keeping his feeling under control, he maybe should have came as Bruce Wayne so he could have cried. He kept it under control though and eventually it was time to bring the coffin out to the prepared grave. They hadn’t fully planned who would carry it because they hadn’t known if Danny’s friends and sister were going to come, but now that they were here of course they were invited to help carry the coffin.

Batman and Diana took the majority of the weight of course, but all three of them took the offer to help carry the coffin the prepared grave. They lowered it in and Superman placed the specially made vault over top that would protect Danny’s body from, well, the usual stuff super heroes had to deal with, bodies being stolen for experimentation, attempted cloning’s, resurrection but wrong, all that jazz.

Jasmin through in the first handful of dirt, then Sam, then Tucker and then the heroes joined in. When the grave started to be filled properly a lot of the heroes started to wander away, Batman approached Jason who was hanging back.

“Please stay,” He murmured to his estranged son, seeing Jason’s shoulders tense, his arms were still crossed defensively. “Phantom will be bringing his body one most of the people clear out and he’d really like to meet you. If you don’t mind, he just died, and it’s been hard on him, I think meeting you would be a comfort.” He watched with bated breath as Jason’s fingers twitched and tightened on his own arms before he nodded. Bruce breathed a subtle sigh of relief and nodded, turning back towards the grave.

Once the grave was filled and basically everyone else had either left or gone back to the little chapel to socialize, Danny finally arrived. He faded into view, seemingly almost shy, watching them both closely for their reaction. Bruce understood why, he had to carefully school his expression when he saw the state that Danny’s body was in. It wasn’t that he was dead obviously, ashen and limp, passed the stage of rigger it seemed, it was the visible injuries. He was littered with cuts and bruises, there were stull cuffs around his ankles and wrists which had clearly burned into his skin. The wound that had killed him was, well, it looked like an autopsy had been done, his chest was fully open, but Batman knew it had been done while he was still alive. It was horrific.

Batman managed to keep himself under control though his breathing sped up, Hood’s mask completely hid his face but he rocked back like he’d been struck. Danny hesitated, licked his lips a little and stepped forward.

“I can’t touch the cuffs, but I don’t want too bury him with them still on. Will you take them off for me? They shouldn’t burn you,” Danny asked Bruce.

He was about to say yes when Jason cut in, “I’m better at picking locks then him, I’ll do it.” He practically growled, stalking forward and pulling his lock picking kit out of one of the pockets on his suit. “Who did this to him,- You?” He asked softly as Danny knelt, cradling his own corps close to his chest, letting Jason kneel in front of him and take one of the limp arms to start on the cuffs. Jason hissed when he touched it, it burned a little but he breathed through it and started to pick the lock.

“It was the GIW, the ghost investigation ward. I killed the ones who did it, and the justice league helped me disband the rest of the organization and overturn the laws that enabled it,” Danny responded, his green eyes locked unblinkingly on Jason, watching him as he watched Jason work on the locks.

“Good, I’m glad their dead. That must have felt good,” He chuckled vindictively.

“I am too, but I’m more glad they won’t get to hurt anyone else. They might have gone for you if they were still able.”

“Me? Why?” Jason asked, his fingers twitching, he cursed softly when the lock pick slipped, he grumbled and started again.

“Because you died before didn’t you? The cuffs burn you because you’re not… completely alive anymore I won’t ask anything about it, I know that’s private but if you ever want to talk about it, or if you need help with the… side affects, I’d be happy to help you,” Phantom offered softly. Jason only hummed in response, he needed to process and consider that.

When the final cuff fell to the ground Danny took a deep breath and curled around himself, resting his forehead against his body’s hair. From the way his shoulders were shaking they could tell he was crying, Jason rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder, just being there for him until Phantom was ready and finally sunk into the ground. He was down there for a long time before he surfaced again, flying over to hug batman, burrowing against his chest a little while Batman patted his back gently, Jason standing by awkwardly.

“Thank you so much for doing this, and thank you both so much for coming. This really means so much to me.”

“Of course kid,” Jason said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s soft white hair.

Batman nodded, giving Danny a gentle squeeze, “No one deserves to be forgotten.”

Tag list: @kikkobara @phlebocuffs @spikethecrazycat @spookytragedyshark @thatonegaybitch68 @stargazer-luna @fangirlnerd001 @seraphinedemort @yjfk @rosieparker1856 @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun and thank you too @your-local-idiot-savant for giving me feedback on some parts

[alexanderlightweight]

Love your writing I look forward to to see if you have anything new every evening so I have something good to end the day on. So I wanted to prompt a thing if it sounds like something for you. In your AU's Alec doesn't come out at the wedding so there is no big reveal. But my thought was the how does the Clave respond/think of a competent commander dating one of there most dandoros enimes.

Alec is pretty go big or go home so he devises fool proof plans in every universe and he has a good enough reputation that the hunter society are gonna be like "you want to demote alec lightwood? who cares if he doesn't have babies, he can train our kids and teach them how to survive. you cannot take one of our most competent leaders. we will riot"

thank you for this prompt and yeah, there often isn't a big reveal though sometimes there is. most of them are super petty, because alec is a bitch like that. i hope you enjoy!

lumine

-

Alec stares at the clave representative sent to deal with him and he smiles.

The representative pales and backs up, only to nearly run into Mirai who clears her throat, her face calm and serene.

“Was there something else you needed?” She asks and clicks her tongue, two teams lining up behind her and therefore, standing guard to Alec.

“It was rumored that Commander Lightwood may be

“You mean the fact that I’m in a relationship with Magnus Bane.” Alec says, his smile widening.

The swallow of the clave member is audible in the sudden quiet of the hall.

“I am in a relationship with him. Does the clave take issue, with the man I love?” Alec hasn’t told Magnus such things yet, but that will come in time. This is a declaration that Alec is making, and it won’t make its way to Magnus’ ears, but it will do what needs to be done.  “I’m sure that the clave, as dignified and well-read as they are, haven’t forgotten the grounding truth of all nephilim.” Alec smirks and he lets his eyes glint with the feral urge to destroy that he’s holding back. “We only love once and as nephilim, we do dangerous and violent things to protect our love.”

“Yes, of course. Commander, sir. That wasn’t my intention, merely curious.” Alec watches, barely blinking as the soft, pampered, political nephilim flees back to Idris and his posture changes in a moment.

“Get his name and energy signature. If he ever tries to portal back, reroute him to Shanghai.” It will get Alec an angry fire-message, but that will be the least of his concerns. Alec sighs and rubs his hands over his face and then shrugs, “guess I’ll need to visit Idris.”

“Will you need support?”

“I think just myself will do, though do remain on standby until I’m back.” Alec isn’t going to be stupid about this, not when he has so much at stake.

—

“Commander Lightwood, do you really think this dalliance is a worthy effort of your limited time?"

“Do I think that creating mutual trust and fostering good relationships with fellow leaders of the downworld is a bad thing? No. Do I plan with sleeping any of the rest, also no.” There is a shocked stutter of noise and Alec internally rolls his eyes, “Magnus Bane isn’t a dalliance to me. Would you like me to swear so?” And Alec grins ferally as he reaches out and grasps the handle of the soul sword. “Before and witnessed by Raziel, my heart belongs to Magnus Bane.”

Nothing happens, besides the words flowing freely from his mouth and at the high table, several clave Council member’s curse. His parents are staring at him in horrified shock and Alec sends them a smug, sharp smirk.

What is the clave going to do?

Deny the love that Alec has proven before Raziel and sworn upon the soul sword.

Most nephilim don’t love that deeply. It’s almost a myth with how political so many of their marriages have gotten and Alec has what most nephilim crave without even knowing what they ache for.

“I think I’ve said everything I need to say.” Alec says and he sends Imogen Herondale a blank, dry look. “Or do you wish to go against Raziel and the hearts he gave us, that will only beat for one once we fall?”

“When he tires of you, you’ll fade.” Imogen spits, like she’s trying to curse him and Alec laughs, because none of these people understand.

“If he tired of me—” Alec says, because he trusts Magnus, “then I would want to fade rather than no longer be by his side.”

Imogen wants to curse him, but Alec has pledged himself in a truly nephilim fashion and while it’s never been done in such a public fashion for a downworlder, Alec doubts he’s the first.

Perhaps the first to declare himself wholly in love with another man, but Alec has been fighting to break records his entire life.

This is merely one more thing he’s won.

-

(alec says your homophobia doesn't exist compared to my skills and oh yeah btw i'm madly in love and protected under this rule and this rule.

imogen: shocked pikachu face

alec: im practically an endangered species bitch, cry about it.)

magnus when he finds out: you told the clave you loved me first?

alec: yes?

magnus: You. Told. The. Clave. Before. Me.

alec: it was a trial by soul sword magnus! i couldn't exactly lie

magnus heart-eyes bane: you swore you loved me on the soulsword three weeks after we met?

alec: yes?????

magnus swooning and grabbing alexander to dip him: you're forgiven

alec: what just happened?????

[schrodingerscollective]

Heyyyy

…

We’re backkkk

So, for those who are new to this blog or have forgotten - don’t blame you there, it’s been eight months lol - my name is Parker! I’m one of the hosts in the Schrödinger’s Cat Collective. I’m gonna format the rest of this post like an FAQ bc writing a block of paragraph is boring for you guys and me

So, what happened?

In a roughly linear but haphazard order:

1. Denial + a lot of assumptions we made about our system and how it worked, which ended up with us believing we weren’t a system at all

2. Stress. Oh my god so much stress, made worse by autistic burnout. It was horrific, but thankfully that was late last year, and we’re okay now

3. I don’t know what happened, but now there are literally only 5 of us. I actually can’t explain it. I think maybe some people might have fused together but it’s hard to tell, since almost everyone here now existed in some form before. Man, idek T-T

Why are y’all back?

We debated making this post for a bit, mostly because we were scared to be wrong about being a system again, or that’s we’re secretly faking or making things up because we’re bored, etc. But I’ve realised that that’s a dumb reason, and that if it were another system saying those things we wouldn’t be nearly as harsh on them as we are, in reality, on ourselves.

(Also the body is sick rn and everyone else is taking a break meaning I’m by myself feeling like crap, so I’m doing a Good Thing. I know they missed posting here but everyone kept putting off writing this post so look at me saving the day)

What is and will be changed?

- we will no longer be calling ourselves an OSDD 1B system, as we are unsure of our system origin. Currently we call ourselves a median system, leaning closer to being plural

- as always, this is a no-syscourse zone. However, we do want to explicitly state that we are fully supportive of ALL systems regardless of type, origin and whatever else, provided everyone is civil. If you are uncomfortable with this, there’s no obligation for you to stay here

- we’ll still post memes, but we might post other things too!

- we’ll also be updating our bio and pinned post soon :)

Thanks for reading!

- Parker, edited by Nova for grammar

[bloodblanks]

creepypasta matchups

for anonymous ♡ thank you for commissioning me!

i barely hit 5’0” and have wavy dark brown (almost black) hair that reaches a little past my shoulders. i have brown eyes, and a few small sunspots on different parts of my face. as for my build, i’m a bit chubby and curvy. what i wear varies on the weather but no matter what, my outfit will always include at least one article of black clothing (my mom complains that everything i wear is black). i wear casual dresses or shorts with thin cardigans in the summer, but usually my go-to outfit is just a plain or graphic t-shirt tucked into jeans, with a cute belt on. people often mistake me for being 5’4” because i’m always wearing my platform boots. i also have a vast collection of cute earrings. i’m definitely introverted. i wouldn’t really call myself shy, just quiet and reserved if you don’t know me that well. i have anxiety, which can cause me to come across as awkward in my first few interactions with a person. however, once you get to know me and we’re close, i’m very chatty and am happy to joke around, talk about my interests or listen to yours, or hear you vent and give advice! i’m pretty social with my close group of friends, but i do still have days where i would prefer to have minimal interaction with people and just have some alone time. i’m a pushover, not gonna lie. i can’t stand conflict, so i’m a pretty big people pleaser, and will do almost anything i can to make things right, even if i’m not the one who made them wrong in the first place. however, this means i bottle things up and can be really passive aggressive. i canNOT hide my emotions and wear them all over my face. whether i’m super excited about something or pissed off, you’ll know, even if i don’t want you to. in my free time, i like to read, write, play video games, and watch anime! i’ve adored fantasy and sci-fi stuff since i was little, so those are my go-to genres whether i’m reading or writing. for video games, i mostly play RPGs like pokemon or kingdom hearts, or mobile gacha games, but i also play cod zombies a lot. i also have an absurd amount of hours in animal crossing. i enjoy decorating stationary, too, like notebooks or designing monthly calendars! some miscellaneous info: in college, i’m double majoring in creative writing and computer science. i can be VERY competitive in both board/party games and academics. i can pace and zone out while listening to music for HOURS if left alone. i also infodump a lot and for long periods of time if you don’t stop me.

author's note: this work will contain dark content. please read at your own discretion.

this is a paid commission. if you are interested in commissioning me for a creepypasta matchup, don’t hesitate to send me a dm!

eyeless jack

jack remembered you from back in college. the two of you never really talked, you weren’t even in the same department—he studied medical sciences—nor were you in the same year, but he had seen you around campus a few times and distinctly remembered you as attractive. he had always considered talking to you, but before he had the opportunity to, calamity struck, and he became a flesh-eating demon.

his memories of you soon faded into the distance, and he had nearly forgotten about your existence when he saw you again on an empty street at dusk. he instantly recognized you, and from there, he silently followed you home, watching you from afar.

it was just curiosity at first, a hint of nostalgia perhaps, but quickly it developed into something far darker, far more sinister.

the first thing he noticed was your looks, particularly your size. he liked how small you were. he’s grown quite a bit since college, what with being a demon and all, and he loved the idea of the size difference between the two of you. he didn’t have much of an opinion on your hair colour, though he liked the waves. he couldn’t see them too well from outside your window, but he did take note of your sunspots, finding them beautiful.

jack paid close attention to what you wore, and he had discovered a few things. namely, that platform boots looked good, and summer dresses with thin cardigans were exceptionally attractive on you. additionally, he liked that you wore earrings, and he’d remember all the different ones.

he was ecstatic to find out what you did in your spare time and just how much you had in common. he didn’t think the majority of people read anymore, let alone wrote, so it was a more than pleasant surprise to find out that you did. what was even better was that you liked the same genres as him. it was particularly delightful to him that you wrote, and he couldn’t help but read them in secret while you weren’t home.

he also quite liked video games and anime himself, especially kingdom hearts. he used to play a fair amount of cod zombies when he was younger, and even a bit of pokemon though he didn’t like it as much as other games. still, he found it relaxing to watch you play, in particular, animal crossing.

jack enjoyed watching you decorating stationary, but what he even liked more was taking them, having stolen one of your notebooks for himself, leaving you to wonder just how in the world you had lost it.

something jack really liked about you was that you were introverted. he, too, was an introverted person, not exactly shy either, but just not up for being around others constantly, and he found it relieving that you were the same way. still, he saw the way you interacted with your friends, and he longed for the day when you would act the same way with him.

he had mixed feelings about how passive you were. on the one hand, he hated how hard you tried to please others, especially how you’d act as a complete pushover for them when they clearly weren’t worth the effort or energy. on the other hand, that was exactly how he wanted you to be, just that he wanted it only for himself.

jack was good with being able to read people’s feelings, but he liked how obvious yours were; it made you all the more vulnerable to him. he also noticed that you could be passive-aggressive, though he didn’t think it’d be a problem for him.

he had also observed you pacing around, zoning out for lengthy periods of time, and it always made him curious as to what exactly you were doing or thinking about. he wanted so badly to know every thought on your mind.

sometimes the people around you would find out that you had much to say on certain topics. they wouldn’t always listen to everything, but jack would. he would mentally record each and every word you said. the majority of the time, he found the topic just as fascinating as you did. even if it was information he already knew, he realized that he liked it more after hearing you talk about it.

jack wanted you for himself; that much was clear. the only reason he hadn’t done it yet was because he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

he knew that you were in college, even double majoring, which he found rather impressive. however, he wasn’t well versed in terms of computer science himself. he admired the amount of effort you put into your studies and your dedication. he also found it cute how competitive you could be. as someone who went to college himself, though he didn’t finish it, he understood the value and importance of it to you.

and so he had a hard time deciding what to do with you. the monstrous side of him sought to simply rip you from your life, taking you away from everything that you’d known so that you could be his and his alone. however, he didn’t want you to be unhappy. he liked you so much partially because he thought the two of you would be good together, and forcing you into it would ruin the point.

ideally, you would be able to continue your studies while being with him, and so he decided that he would take you, bring you to him as gently as possible, carefully coax you into a life with him. hopefully, then, you will be able to resume your studying without a problem.

however, if nothing he did worked, or if you caused him to fear your escape, he’d give in to his impulses and decide your fate for you.

[burritoreviewsstuff]

So I watched Oppenheimer

Disclaimer: I am writing this review and analysis as an independent critic and am not sponsored in any means by any major film corporation.

Never before have I expected a biopic turn into a psychological horror film in its third act. There were no winners in this movie and it was overall dramatized to distinguish fact from fiction.

Not gonna lie, I hardly knew anything about the details of the Manhattan Project or who Oppenheimer even was before watching this. Probably because they never taught us this part of history or I just forgot.

I’ve been doing some research over the past couple of hours since watching the film. That is, I watched ‘The Day After Trinity’ and read through some Wikipedia articles. This movie is so beautifully that I refused to believe that a good chunk of it was based on real history because of how the story was told to make it look like we should feel sorry for what Oppie went through (YES I REALIZED THAT THEY NAMED THE MARS ROVER AFTER THIS GUY HALFWAY THROUGH THE FILM. SUE ME). I don’t feel empathetic for what these scientists did. They wanted to play God and played God they did.

From what I could find, mostly everything in the film DID happen to some extent. The only thing that stuck out to me (plot-wise) is Oppie’s relationship with Niels Bohr not being as structured in the film as it was in real life. I think they meant to Max Born at the beginning of the film, but it is true that Bohr did eventually ended up working on the Manhattan Project (though the movie tells us that Bohr left Los Alamos fairly quickly after his escape from Copenhagen). The other being that they left out the feeling at Los Alamos during the scene before the realization of sheer horror of what they had done should have been ‘thank god it wasn’t a dud’ - actual testimony from Frank Oppenheimer.

Other than that, from what testimonies I heard and what I have read, a LOT of the movie is fairly accurate to how events played out over a period of time between the 1920’s all the way up to 1958 during Lewis Strauss’s Secretary of Commerce hearing. Even small details like Oppie’s hat and even most of the actors looking nearly identical to their real-life counterparts during the time the movie happened was really well done.

I give a standing ovation to the costume and makeup departments and artists who worked on this film because if Einstein’s look was all done by hand with no CGI involved, I would have thought the man himself rose from his grave just to star in this film.

And all the actors did a fantastic job playing their roles. Gillian Murphy as Oppenheimer was fantastic and brought a sense of humanity to the role. Robert Downey Jr had me do a double take because this is one of his first movies post-MCU (I initially thought it was his first but then I completely forgot that trash fire of a movie that was Dolittle that my mother and I went to see and I’m glad after three years I have forgotten about that dumpster fire) and is it very refreshing to see what he is capable of now that he doesn’t have to be Tony Stark 24/7 since he is free from the reigns of Disney. It was seriously satisfying for him to be able to drop the F-Bomb. The quipiness of his acting is subdued in this film, but Stark left some scars on the way he acts and it still kind of peeks through during certain scenes. Also, to finally have him be in a more villainous role was a good change up for his acting career (if this movie had a true villain, it would be Strauss since he resented Oppenheimer IRL, not sure if it was simply because of berating during a hearing about isotopes, but he hated the man’a guts to slander him as a Commie due to the people he associated with and his “left-wing views”).

Another thing that I did not understand is why did the hearing scene have to be in black and white while the rest of the scenes were in color. And I want to know why people kept putting marbles into those jars.

I can’t complain too much, because as jam-packed this story already is at 3 hours, if every little detail was put on the screen, Oppenheimer would have longer than the Director’s Cut of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. And I know Critikal said that this movie flew by despite its run time, but I disagree. It was very fast paced until the climax of the movie, that being the bomb drop. It was there that the movie started to crawl a bit because it is here that the results of both hearings (the one taking place in 1954 and the other in 1958) are coming to a close and they are trying to squeeze in any remaining characters that are relevant to the plot their final time to shine before the movie ends.

Overall, this movie is a solid 8.5/10.

[justacanofcorn]

Oh My Love (Damien Karras x GN Reader Pt. 4)

(Pt. 3) (Pt. 5)

“My father died when I was a kid.” He flicks ash onto the steps. “The funeral wasn’t much of anything. Almost wish we hadn’t had one.”

“They’re for the living anyway. So how do you feel about doing mass for funerals, then?”

He shrugs.

“Just another part of the job.”

-

Rated: M

CW: some brief yet upsetting descriptions of "Satanic" rituals.

You’re desperate now.

Desperate for material, that is. You dig and dig and dig, and Father Merrin and Dyer both give you some suggestions, but none of them seem to suit your needs. You consider asking Damien but…it doesn’t feel right.

So you’re sitting at your desk, pouring over three different scripts when there is a knock at the door.

“Come in,” you sigh. A distraction is welcomed.

But oh, what a distraction indeed.

Damien pokes his head inside.

“Hey. Are you busy?”

You shut your book a bit too quickly.

“Not really. Struggling to get work done. Why?”

He fully comes inside with a book tucked in his hand.

“Well, I came to ask for a favor. See, every year I’m required to write up a thesis report. This year I’ve decided to write about Satanic Rituals, you know, black mass and sacrifices. Nasty business. Anyway, I found a text that I think would be very helpful, but…”

“But…it’s in Latin?”

He chuckles bashfully and sets it gently on your desk.

“It’s in Latin.”

“You don’t speak it?”

“I can read and speak it if I know what I’m saying. I’m trying to learn. Some would say I’m too old.”

“Well with that attitude nothing can get done. But sure. I’d be happy to. Maybe it’ll help me too.”

You crack the book open and notice that while the cover is well kept, the inside is close to falling apart like autumn leaves. What you skim pulls your brows together.

“Gee. It’s definitely not written to be ready easily . And- wow, it starts off strong.”

Damien leans over the desk with a sudden and boy-like interest.

“What does it say?”

“It talks about sacrificing infants, drowning animals in blood…Jesus,” your eyes flick up to his and you suddenly notice how close he is. “Sorry. Do you want me to make notes?”

Damien averts his eyes and clears his throat. “As direct a translation as possible would be best- if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not. Happy to do it.”

You smile at him and he gives a half grin.

“Is there…anything else?”

He drums his fingers against the desk. Again, you can tell he’s holding back. Something is fighting against his teeth.

“No. But thanks again.”

And he spins away and nearly flees the scene, you can only watch in slight disappointment, the book forgotten in your hands.

You buckle down on your essay, using some of Damien’s book to help you along. While it’s not exclusively mistranslated, there’s definitely word choices that would change meaning from Latin to English, and with that, certain religious implications. It’s not perfect content, but for a sixty page thesis, you can find a home for it.

However, what has become more troubling is the content of the book. It’s nothing you haven’t at least heard of, but the candor within the details, the desolation of the accounts- it keeps you up at night.

But still, you submit the first quarter of your thesis for review. Part of you considers being anxious about any sudden lack of feedback, but you’re too tired. You’re not sleeping as much. What time you don’t spend thinking of your degree, you spend thinking of Damien.

It’s pathetic, actually. You’ve never been stuck on someone like this before. Not that you’ve never taken interest, but this was something else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect. no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you only wanted friendship, you cannot deny the way you delight in seeing him, in talking to him on personal matters, or even school work. You also notice- you’re not a fool- that you two never make direct contact. No skin on skin touching. It’s almost as if there’s an unspoken rule between you two. That if you breach that boundary, all hell would break loose.

The thought is both devastating and tempting.

You’re perusing the library when Lankester Merrin approaches you. He catches you off guard and you jump a little and remove your headphones.

“Father Merrin! Sorry, I was concentrating. What is it?”

Father Merrin removes his glasses to inspect them. “Oh, well Reverend Thomas Bermingham- have you had the pleasure?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I’m sure you know he’s the University President. He’s hosting a dinner with myself, the Cardinal, Dr. Lance, a couple of political so and so’s, and likely Dyer and Karras. I thought, since you’re a prime example of our partnership with the university, you could be in attendance as well.” He replaces his glasses casually, as if he hadn’t just invited you to a dinner with very important people.

“I- I mean, I’d love to, but are you sure? You don’t think I’d be awfully out of place?”

“No, no. Not at all. As long as you don’t mind some smiling and nodding, and mentioning your thesis. You certainly don’t have to-“

“No! I want to. I’d love to. Thank you, Father.”

“Of course. Dress is formal. It’ll be at the president’s house tomorrow night, 7 o’clock, I think. I’ll get you the address.”

He goes on to ask about your thoughts on his report, which you give him excitedly. You even find that you're able to work better once you return to your office. Perhaps the dinner serves as a new motivation. The more you can accomplish, the more you'll have to talk about.

You soon receive a decent review of your thesis submission. Dr. Lance is sure to note that your content doesn't flow as well as it could with the subject, but you also know that by the end of it, you can pull anything together.

Sunday morning comes and it's so freezing outside that you forgo your morning run and opt for sitting in the back of mass instead to read. This morning’s service is being led by a young priest you don't know.

As you read in the back corner, Joseph Dyer very quietly approaches you and takes a seat in the chair next to yours. You close the book you're reading.

“Well, good morning, Father.”

“Good morning. Awful early, isn't it?”

“Hm, it's too cold for a run. Figured I'd hold up here until more people trickle in. What about you? You're obviously not doing mass.”

“Had to meet with Damien about something.”

“Ah, so he wasn't at the track, either. I feel less guilty now. Say, is he alright?”

One thing you can always rely on is Joseph Dyer's honesty. He shrugs and watches mass.

“More of the same. The ebbs and flows that come with priesthood, I suspect. Why?”

“No particular reason. Just trying to make sure I'm not making it up in my head.”

“You do that a lot?”

“Make up problems to solve? Almost every day.”

Joseph smirks. “Well, that explains your thesis.”

You guffaw and hit him playfully with your book. Betty turns to you.

“Knock it off! It's not even six yet. Young people,” Betty adds under her breath, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she positions her fingers to the keys.

“You hear about this dinner?” Joseph asks, now more aware of his volume.

“Sure, Merrin asked me yesterday. You going?”

“I probably should. It's usually a fifty-fifty toss up of interesting people. Sometimes it's movie stars and scientists. Sometimes it's senators and anomalous rich people.”

“You do these a lot?”

“Fun fact: they only keep me around for my looks and my personality.”

You stifle a giggle and return to your book as Betty strikes up the organ. Joseph sneaks away.

“Suppose I'll see you then.”

You nod and smile and watch as Joseph disappears through the arched doorway and presumably out to the connecting hall. You like Joseph Dyer. You see why Damien hangs around him so much.

Dressing for the dinner is difficult.

You’re going to be around priests and college administrators, so sexy is out of the question. But…mature? Flirtatious?

And just who are flirting with?

Nobody! Maybe it’s just to make you feel good. Is that so wrong?

You go with red. Nothing too revealing- show a little skin, keep it interesting. We can’t wear sweaters and collars all the time, now can we?

You wonder what Damien will be wearing. Likely his normal vestments since he and Dyer are going at priests. Probably the same for Merrin.

It also sounds as if you’ll be the youngest person there. Not that it’s a problem.

It’s snowing full force when you leave your apartment in a coat, scarf, and gloves, but no hat so you don’t ruin your hair. You think to wait for a cab but you don’t want to be late, so you walk it. By the time you get to Reverend Bermingham’s front door you’re shaking. You knock firmly, your first like solid ice, and wait.

A woman you don’t know answers the door. She looks over her shoulder and shouts into the hall.

“Thomas! We have another guest!” She turns back to you. “Come on in.”

You follow her inside but she’s turning into a room before you even get your coat off. You hang it up along with your scarf, stuff the gloves in a pocket, straighten yourself out in a mirror hanging in the hall.

Deep breaths. It’s just a dinner.

You follow the woman to the room she turned into. It’s a richly furnished sitting room, complete with a roaring fireplace and baby grand piano that Dyer sits at.

“What’ll it be?” He asks the group. Everyone else is already here. Shit. “Oh, looks like our final guest has arrived.”

Everyone turns to you and even though most of the faces are familiar, you feel scrutiny shoot up your spine. You smile meekly and wave.

“Sorry. Am I late? I had to walk.”

“No, dear,” the woman from before says, sitting herself down in an armchair. “We were simply early is all.”

Your eyes search for Damien and you feel a bit relieved when you see him standing towards the back, speaking quietly with Father Merrin. It’s too obvious to just go over and stand awkwardly next to them, so you opt to sit next to the piano.

“What do you think, y/n?”

You ponder with a finger to your chin.

“Hark the Herald Angels Sing?” You suggest.

“Glory to the newborn king!” Dyer laughs and begins moving his fingers across the keys, playing seamlessly. You lean to him.

“I didn’t realize you played.”

“Since I was five. My folks were keen on giving me a classical education.”

You nod, though you hadn’t had the experience yourself.

Dr. Lance stands by Reverend Bermingham and laughs politely. She turns and gives you a wink. She’s trying to calm me down , you think. Is your anxiety so obvious?

A woman pokes her head in the doorway. You think you recognize her- Bermingham’s wife?

“Dear? Peter says that dinner is ready.”

“Thank you, Charity. Everyone, this is my lovely wife, Charity.”

She waves to the room. You get the sense that she is mild, but has a certain twinkle in her eyes.

You all move to the adjoining dining room.

“No assigned seats,” Charity says.

Is it too obvious to sit next to Damien?

But then, he is soon sandwiched between Merrin and Dyer so, frowning slightly, you sit between Dyer and another man you don’t know. He extends a hand to you.

“Hi. Billy Wilde. I’m a writer. You are?”

You take his hand with hesitation and give him your name. His smile is too broad, the shake too assertive, and judging by his eagerness to give you his occupation, he certainly likes himself.

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I’m a grad student. I’m working with Holy Trinity to translate texts for both their use and my master’s.”

Billy Wilde nods but is soon distracted by something the woman at the door is saying. A waiter comes around to deliver plates. Baked chicken, beans, mashed potatoes, and rolls in a basket at the center of the table. Perfectly agreeable. At least it tastes good.

There are polite conversations happening around you.

You listen mutely, slowly chewing your food, sipping on the red wine that’s much too dry for your taste.

So far, no one’s asked you a single question, besides Mr. Wilde.

At some point, Dyer leans over to you.

“Psst. Can you switch me spots?”

You look at him as though you didn’t understand.

“What?”

“Switch me spots, if you don’t mind. I want to pick the brain of the writer. Unless you want him to yourself?”

You shake your head vehemently and you and Joseph switch seats, then trade plates.

Now, you’re next to Damien. He’s in his vestments but has a black cardigan draped over top. Suddenly, you have nothing to say. And he hasn’t looked at you yet, either.

“Avoiding me?” you ask jokingly. He looks over to you and smiles.

“Of course not. You said you walked?”

You nod, trying to cut the subject short so he doesn’t ask you about the weather like a complete stranger.

“Dear?” the woman from the hallway is getting your attention. “What did you say your name was?”

You tell her. Her face falls and her mouth turns into a tight frown.

“Oh. Are you…John and Helen’s oldest?”

The sound of your parents’ names turns your gut to lead. Your hand in your lap attempts to flex the sudden numbness away to no avail.

“Yes, I am.”

The table has grown almost silent. It is unbearable.

“Oh, goodness. Forgive me. I was friends with your parents. They were splendid people, truly. I couldn’t make it up for the funeral, unfortunately.”

You force a shaky smile and shake your head. “It’s alright. I couldn’t, either. I didn’t make it back from Rome in time.”

Her mouth gapes from the tragedy of it all. “My deepest condolences, dear. And for your brother as well. What was his name, again?”

The noises around you begin to turn into roaring water against your ears. “William.”

“Right.” She turns to the table and begins to explain how she knew your parents. Slowly, suppressing the shaking in your bones, you quietly excuse yourself. As you leave the room, you hear the woman.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t upset them...”

Out on the front stoop, you sit in your coat and scarf, watching the snowflakes fall more gently now onto the pitch of the street. The brittle cold clings to your hair and your eyelashes but it’s as invigorating as you can get right now. You think distantly of your aunt and uncle. What if they could see you right now from across the street? Would they even stop to stare?

You feel a gust of warmth as the door opens behind you. Damien sits beside you in a long coat. He fishes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offers you one. You’re not a smoker, but take it anyway. He lights it for you and then one for himself.

You blow smoke and it disappears into the foggy night sky.

“Some people don’t really understand when to stop talking,” Damien mumbles to his cigarette. You shrug.

“It’s not her fault. She was just trying to be nice.”

“Still,” he says. “I didn’t know you weren’t able to go to the funeral. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. My aunt and uncle were in charge of it- my mother’s sister and her husband. When I couldn’t come straight home they just went on with it. I don’t blame them. Not something to put off.”

“My father died when I was a kid.” He flicks ash onto the steps. “The funeral wasn’t much of anything. Almost wish we hadn’t had one.”

“They’re for the living anyway. So how do you feel about doing mass for funerals, then?”

He shrugs.

“Just another part of the job.”

Funny thing for a priest to say , you think, but dare not speak it. Yes, something was definitely wrong.

“I’ve been reading more of your book,” you change the subject. He seems to perk up at the mention of it.

“Anything interesting?”

“More of the same, it seems like. It’s hard to tell what’s written in earnest and what’s fear-mongering.”

“Well, as a religious text, I hope it’s earnest.”

“You can never be sure.”

He quiets after that.

“What was your dad like?”

You don’t really want the conversation to end. Damien sighs against the cold.

“To be honest, I didn’t know him very well at all. He worked all the time. Tried to provide for me and my mother. Poor immigrants, you know?”

“Did you grow up here?”

“No. New York.”

His clipped responses feel like an attempt to cut things off.

“Does your mom still live there?”

He doesn’t even give a verbal response. He just hums in affirmation and stomps out his cigarette.

Fine. If that’s the way he wants it to be.

You press on your knees to stand. “Alright, then. I think I’ll just go home. Will you let them know? Just say I wasn’t feeling well.”

“It’s a sin to tell a lie.” He stands as well.

“Yeah well, it’s not a lie. I don’t want to go back in there and it doesn’t seem that I’m much wanted anyway. I don’t really feel like being on display anymore. Goodnight, Damien.”

You don’t get five steps from the stoop before he calls after you.

“Do you really believe what you said?”

You turn around. The snow is getting heavier.

“About what?”

“Do you think it’s dishonest? That none of it’s real?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You mentioned it.”

“And I also mentioned that it might be honest. You never asked before what I thought about it all. Why now?”

He hesitates then shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Let me call you a cab, alright? You’ll catch your death out here.”

“I’m fine.”

Of course, you’re not fine. You left your gloves inside and your whole body is freezing.

“I can see you shaking. Come on.”

You want to stick up your chin and bear it but you both know you can’t. So, you linger in the hallway as Damien calls a cab. Anyone who comes out to see what the commotion is gets the same answer: you’re feeling sick, Damien’s called you a cab. You appreciate the invite. You enjoyed the food.

At one point it’s you, Damien, and Joseph, who leans against the wall next to you.

“Faking it?”

You shoot him a look. “No. I feel terrible.”

Again. It’s not a lie .

“Well, forgive me for saying so but I wouldn’t blame you. I see now why you didn’t mind moving away from the writer. He’s abysmal.”

You smile at Joseph’s similar appraisal of Mr. Wilde.

“Well, not everyone can live up to your golden standards, Joe,” Damien jabs from the opposite wall. Joseph smiles.

“Nope. Only the three people in this hallway.”

There is a moment, never mind how brief, where you catch an almost indistinguishable, fleeting exchange between the two priests. It’s unspoken, it’s even unmoved, but there’s something in the eyes. Something you recognize, because Damien has looked at you that way, too. Or at least you hope.

Which leads to one of two conclusions:

Either, any hope at all of something more complicated between the two of you has just been dashed.

Or,

Things just got much, much more complicated.

You get home fine, change into more comfortable clothes, your track and field sweatshirt from your starting days at Georgetown. You need to take your mind off of the maybe-revelations of tonight. Something equally as occupying will help. You choose to lay down on your couch with Damien’s book. You’re not going to take notes, simply read. It’s not the best bed-time literature, but it will get the job done.

You fall asleep easily, your hand falling off the couch and dropping the novel onto the floor. Outside, a snowstorm rages. Inside, something equally as powerful stirs.

[oddygaul]

LAIKA movies

Ira and I visited Seattle at the end of August, and happened upon the Laika exhibit at the Museum of Pop Culture. In the exhibit were tons of the sets, models, armatures, and clothing from all their movies. Seeing it all made me realize that for how much I’ve thought of Laika as an amazing studio and how impressive I thought Coraline and Kubo were… I’d actually only ever seen those two. So we decided to get caught up on the rest together, in release order.

ParaNorman

I felt nothing about this movie

The Boxtrolls

Damn, this one was great. I’m trying to remember why I never watched it; I think I must’ve just read the name and blurb and was uninterested. Clearly I never saw a trailer for it, because the setting and designs are gorgeous and incredibly unique. I love the fucked-up, stupid Cheese England setting, I love all of the costume design, I love the Boxtrolls themselves and how they move (especially the tandem platforming in the intro).

This one did strike me how it felt like a bridge between the more character-focused, close-in shots of Coraline (and ParaNorman) and the wide, sweeping landscape shots featured more heavily in Kubo (and Missing Link). While Coraline certainly had its large setpieces (the house is obviously iconic), it feels like this is the turning point where they started working more on showing off huge vistas to lend a larger sense of place to their worlds. The mountain cave Kubo and his mom live in was my ur-example of this; the lingering establishing shot of Cheesebridge from Boxtrolls now supplants it.

One of the things that stood out to me in the exhibit that I hadn’t considered much before was all the clothing. I guess, somehow, I imagined they were just part of the model, like you’d do in claymation… but in fact each character has separate, fully sewn and handcrafted outfits that are put onto and worn by the armatures. Seeing it in person was pretty incredible; there’s tons of tiny details nearly too small to see, let alone create, and lots of them seemed to be made with custom fabric / textiles to get the exact shades and patterns they wanted. With that fresh and front of mind, watching this movie was honestly pretty staggering. The texturework alone on the outfits of all the nobility and the snatchers…

Deborah Cook is the head costume designer at Laika, which I’m writing down here in hopes that I remember it.

Kubo and the Two Strings

I saw this one when it first came out, actually, and was somewhat disappointed. I think that while I liked the aesthetic, animation and action, I felt let down by the narrative and writing - I remember coming out of the movie thinking that every joke fell flat, all of the dialogue felt slightly off, and the wider narrative didn’t conclude in a way that felt particularly satisfying.*

Holy shit, it hit different seven years later.

I started to crack within the first five minutes, as Kubo tends to his catatonic mother who can’t even feed or clothe herself on her own anymore. Then, as night falls, she becomes alert enough to talk to him again, even if some of the words are wrong, even if she’s forgotten a thing or two, even if she can’t quite finish some of her sentences… and then as quickly as the lucidity came, it goes again, leaving her incommunicable. Why yes, certainly, as someone who in that seven year time gap has spent a lot of time dealing with a parent with Alzheimer’s, yes, that scene certainly did have a wholly different connotation to it, and yes, it certainly did immediately make me cry before even establishing much of the story’s premise.

The dialogue landed quite differently to me this time around, as well as the tone of the movie in general. I think my first impression may have just been an expectations issue; obviously animation doesn’t (and shouldn't) have to be aimed solely at younger audiences, but in western productions it almost always is, so I think I went in expecting a certain amount of levity. Instead, the movie is just intentionally pretty god damn serious the whole time. Monkey is grim nearly the whole movie - her introduction scene consists of her giving Kubo a sharp reality check and telling him there’s no more room for fuckups, and any jokes she gets to make are usually at someone else’s expense. Beetle has some great line deliveries that break the tension, but the jokes themselves are never laugh out loud funny.

The thing is, this kinda just makes sense - the leads are in a bad fucking situation and the movie takes it seriously. The movie is about Kubo, a child, who above all else Must Not Go Outside at night because his grandfather ripped his eyeball out and wants to rip out the other one, Going Outside Anyway and getting his entire village destroyed as a result. After spending the entire journey with Monkey and Beetle, he realizes they’re his parents only moments before they are killed in front of his eyes. The movie tries to end on an uplifting note by swelling the music and presenting an uplifting voiceover, but there’s really no getting around the fact that the closing shot is Kubo standing alone next to the ghosts of his two dead parents. What the fuck?

With this in mind, the tone and dialogue really worked for me this time. Monkey is dead serious, because she knows she’s dying and she has one last chance, with the time limit measured in days, to get her only son to safety. With that context, the stern demeanor, slight remove and awkward clip of their interactions fully click into place, and now I mostly just find myself impressed by how serious and genuine they managed to keep this story and still get it distributed.

*Well, and I also remember thinking it was criminal how little shamisen was actually used in the score, given that the main character is literally a goddamn shamisen bard - and despite acknowledging that it managed to be enough to be the reason I want to learn shamisen, I still fully stand by that criticism today. On rewatch, I will at least grant it that the Regina Spektor cover over the credits fucking slaps.)

Missing Link

After loving Boxtrolls and Kubo so much, I was really excited to get to this one and see what the most cutting-edge release of Laika’s had in store. Ultimately… disappointing?

After the absolutely killer opening sequence, I was all-in on the character of Sir Lionel Frost - from the intense Loch Ness Monster setpiece, the vibe I caught was a smarmy, uncaring exterior covering a heart of gold, a man who would fight through hell for his comrades despite his faults. Unfortunately, he then unrelentingly spends the entire rest of the movie being an intolerable piece of shit to every single person he’s around. It feels like a lot was cut from this movie, or it had some issues in the editing stage, because the character arcs felt more like character right angles, and none of the reconciliations or growth moments felt especially earned or natural to me.

Also, I found it odd to release a movie in 2019 about a racist, English colonialist explorer trope character and not really interrogate it much. It felt like they flirted with it a bit, with some of the monologues we get from the Society Chairman indicating he’s even worse than our lead, but the movie making Frost look good by comparison still doesn’t leave him looking especially good. I seriously felt like I was teleported into a movie from the 80s while watching the dinner scene with the yak cookies…yikes.

The action sequence in the tilting boat was great, though.

—

Unrelated to any specific movie, this was also the first time I really dug into Laika’s past as a studio and how exactly Travis Knight came to be CEO. I was previously aware that Travis Knight kinda forced his way in there via wealth, but figured, hey, he does seem to at least be a decent animator, and I have to applaud one of The Rich using their fortune to keep an incredibly niche artform alive rather than the multitudinous bullshit they usually use it for. After learning Laika was essentially formed from the ashes of the studio of one of claymation’s pioneers in a somewhat forceful takeover, though…

Well, I think the upshot for me is still largely the same, but it definitely does make me feel some sort of way now seeing Travis Knight be the one spotlighted in all the post-credits timelapses and featurettes, that’s for sure.

[rhaemaya-valwynn]

Update- Writing Fan-Fics and Real Life Problems.

Hello everyone, I just wanna give an update on whats going on so you don’t think I’ve forgotten the fan-fics I’ve started.

CW: medical problems and near death of my mother

Over the past year I have struggled with medications. I think I’ve probably gone through at least 12 different medications in an attempt to keep me ‘going’ essentially. I have a special condition which makes me horribly depressed and the Doctor’s I’ve been under are at a loss of what to do for me. The last 6 months has basically been them throwing everything and the kitchen sink at me in an attempt to keep me functioning enough to keep working as I needed to make money for medical bills for my type one diabetes, since even having insurance is not enough to truly help with how expensive it is.

It hasn’t worked. Eventually, the side effects of all the medications accumulated to a breaking point in January. I lost the ability to write (literally, my words were jumbled, I would go to write one thing and then look up to see I had typed something COMPLETELY different) and to comprehend what was being told to me. I almost lost the ability to talk because the medication had taken such a severe turn for me. My doctor had me quit cold turkey and STAY cold turkey for 2 weeks. Those 2 weeks were HELL. Coming off the medication was a utter nightmare as I had to battle auditory hallucinations and the inability to move as they occurred (almost like a paralysis.)

When the dust finally settled, I felt better then I had in 7 years. People would tell me that I looked so much better, not just how I talked and behaved. While this was a great relief, about a month ago (March 16th to be exact) I came home to find a call from my mom’s friend. She was in the hospital for emergency surgery.

The doctor’s didn’t know what was wrong with her, other then something dealing with her intestines. They wouldn’t know if they could fix it till they cut her open.

Essentially, she either lived or died.

Thankfully she made it, though the doctor’s said she was 2 hours away from dying. She had torn a hole in her stomach and 20ft of her small intestine pushed through and wrapped around her colon, cutting blood flow.

Yeah, it was pretty bad.

We both reevaluated our life styles and realized we needed each other, as I was living alone going through all these medication problems and her just having divorced my father and was living alone when this happened.

Last Easter we both agreed that I would be moving back with her. April 14th I bought a trailer to live in next to her small house and am in the process of trying to move out by April 1st.

I haven’t forgotten my fan-fics (Void Walker and the Naga!Jotaro/ Warm my Soul fic)

I just do not have the time to relax or rest till I’m officially moved out and settled into my new home. I hope you all understand that I’m going to need some time to adjust and recuperate from this last year.

Thank you for reading, as a treat you can have a snippet from ‘Warm my Soul’ that I did have prepared before everything happened.

Warm my Soul- Chapter 2: Study Master Disaster The wildlife in Jotaro's habitat was more diverse and intricate than you had initially imagined. Birds, lizards, frogs, beetles, bats, and all manner of things lived here. It was almost as if they had plucked a chunk of forest up and put it in Washington State. Nothing in here was severely dangerous that might actually harm faculty or Jotaro. Though, now that he had regained his weight and was nearly recovered, most things didn't threaten him anymore as he was a wall of sheer muscle. With nigh unstoppable power, he could genuinely hurt someone if he wanted to.This meant no more interactions like Angela's could happen. If he didn't want you there, you would know, immediately.

Kyoshi had warned you that healthy Nagas were some of the most dangerous Cryptids. Due to their ability to move silently and crush their prey with terrifying strength, coupled with their potent venom strong enough to stop your heart in three minutes flat, these Cryptids ranked high on the danger chart, primarily due to the fact that their species was on the brink of extinction due to poachers and tamers alike. Lucky for you, Jotaro actually liked you, so you figured the chances of him wrapping you up in his nine-meter tail and snuffing out your life while injecting you with venom to be....minimal.

On a happier note, the herd of capybaras that lived in the man-made rainforest were overly friendly and would typically come trotting from their 'sunbathing' spots to greet you every morning. They were always eager for snacks and loved 'scritches.' A word used by the older veterinary assistant Tomoko Higashikata who was typically tasked with giving you the snack buckets on your way in. Jotaro always gave her a weird look if he decided to wait for you at the entrance, though you never pried as there were too many things going on in his life that you didn't need to be privy to everything.

The animals may or may not be nice to you because you had kept bringing your own food previously and feeding them as you went in for Jotaro's care. The veterinarians noticed your little escapades and began offering healthier options for the animals as several of them had 'gained too much weight' from your overzealous act of kindness. The snacks were indeed better and didn't involve banana chips and dried mango slices from the dollar store. Most days you worked, you saw Jotaro, given that he had become responsive to care only from you and you alone.

The how and why is a little bit of a story, but at the end of the day, you were his most trusted caregiver. Most of your work schedule revolved around him now, with Thursdays being all to him and him alone. While some coworkers lamented their jealousy over your closeness to the snake man, you reminded them about Angela and how they shouldn't talk that way. But deep inside, you were glad to have broken the barrier between Jotaro and the world.

To be continued....

[lanawinterscigarettes]

It’s okay about the slang!! I hope you’re doing okay btw also you really do spoil me I went to read that fic for the 4th time (yes fourth in 24 hours haha) and saw that you changed the word apartment to flat when Clara says it - SCREAMING I love that little drabble thingy (idk if that’s the right word) so much!! Don’t stress yourself to write part two or anything only if you want to 🫶 also I was so sad when you know that bit in the show when Missy kisses the doctor and then turns to Clara and is like ‘would you like a welcome package too’ that would have been ultimate Missyclara - apparently Jenna and Michelle were holding hands for the whole scene because Michelle was nervous which is actually adorable considering she plays such an out there character. I am still longing for Missy absolutely driving Clara insane and getting her flustered because Missy knows exactly what buttons to push to evoke a reaction she wants from Clara missyclara ftw

You literally know how my brain works exactly when you put the little hashtag that you haven’t forgot about the ask that’s the thing with me I sound needy sometimes it’s not that I don’t mind waiting it’s that my mind thinks I’ve been forgotten by someone 😭 literally thank you sm 🫶

Also side note why the thought of being caught like that sound kinda hot that fic has awoken something in me 😭

No worries about the Christmas crackers thing - they are a very British thing I’ve never seen them in other countries! Also me trying to figure out what a saltine is LOL cultural differences, also I most probably put this in another ask but Clara is an only child and I’m freaking out about it because she’s just so perfect and nearly everyone has siblings

Don’t worry about replying to my asks, just do them when you’re ready 🫶

Hope you’re having a lovely day!

- ⭐️

you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you like the fic so much that you keep going back to read it- and I totally agree I love missyclara they had so much potential and I really wish they had more scenes together. I plan on having the second part being something where missy is a massive tease to clara and the reader both but they're enjoying themselves more than they're willing to let on (also michelle gomez was in chilling adventures of sabrina which was basically netflix's updated version of sabrina the teenage witch and from what I've seen of her in the show she looked amazing. I really need to watch it soon)

and it's absolutely no problem! I know exactly what you mean, and I don't want you to think that I've forgotten about you or that I'm trying to ignore you on purpose 💞 I'm just a bit of a scatterbrain and tend to get distracted by other things really easily so that's why it usually takes me so long to respond

honestly I have no idea where the idea for that fic even came for I just knew I wanted to write something that was clara x reader x missy and since we all know how much fun missy has getting in the middle of things and causing chaos I thought her showing up unexpectedly while clara and the reader were trying to have some alone time would be perfect

i didn't even think about you not knowing what a saltine is I'm so sorry 😭 and most of my knowledge of British culture comes from doctor who/bbc sherlock (I'm a covert superwholock fan shh don't tell anyone) and I cant explain why but clara just seems to give off only child energy if that makes sense

and you're so sweet, thank you for being so understanding when it comes to me taking so long to respond 💕

i hope you're having/had a great day too!! 🥰🥰

[mealswildride]

A Rant about Death, Gettysburg, and Observational Research

After losing dad, my friend came hundreds of miles to be present for the funeral. We went out to dinner afterwards, and once everyone was a couple of drinks in, he managed to talk me into attending the 160th Reenactment of the Battle of Gettysburg with him. 

This is something I'd NEVER do, but I accepted. Partly because of how much he went out of his way for me, partly because of simple peer pressure (I'd be called a bitch if I said no (Mama didn't raise no bitch) ), but a substantial part of it was, for me, this idea of the Quest. Especially as the weeks went by, as I finished school and returned home for the Summer only for my grief to grow worse, I think I marked the battle as this climax in my "James is sad'' arc, where, once I was up and over that hill, I would have completed this objective I arranged for myself at the lowest point of my life, and it would have, somehow, told my brain that I didn't have to be sad anymore.

The battle was on the hottest day of the Summer, on one of the hottest days of the Literally Ever, and the air stunk of campfire as the whole of Canada was, at the time, burning. I sweated my ass off, nearly fainted from dehydration, fell asleep in an officer's chair and, just by the good graces of a medic, didn't get pranked by the rest of my crew. Ultimately, while it's not my thing and I'd never do it again, I had a blast. I spent time with good friends I almost never see, saw a part of the country I’d never see if it wasn't for this, and gained a whole lot of respect for the guys who died to reunify the country. This being said, upon returning home a seasoned veteran, I felt no better than when I had left. Life returned to our new, miserable, "normal", and I isolated myself for the next few months until school resumed. 

I bring this story up now because, frankly, I've been struggling with searching for sources of observational research for Capstone. That isn't to say I haven't found any. Everyone I've spoken to has been really moved by my ideas, and has had something I should watch, read, or play to suggest as a result. While I am appreciative of these, when it comes to words on paper every time I try to connect them to my project, I'm lying. I have to lie to say with a straight face that Red Dead Redemption 2 or The Good Place or Black Mirror, or basically anything apart from some Unity tutorials has actually influenced where I thought my project was going from Day 1. I want to talk about the things that influenced me at the start, but all that delivers is "I haven't done anything since the start of the semester". I’ve used all my other original inspirations to their fullest extent, with the only exception being Gettysburg. It has been something of six months now, and in the midst of exams (seems like we really only have two weeks between the end of my latest midterm and the start of my earliest final), I had forgotten entirely about it, and whenever I did think about it I didn’t think it related at all to my work.

This changed recently (tonight, as I write this), as I finally connected some other puzzle pieces that have made it make sense. In conversation with my Game Design instructor some weeks ago, he asked if I knew how the game I'm developing would end, which, at the time, I didn’t. We talked for a bit, which yielded the conclusion that the Emulation your character is trying to build disables itself once you find the last memory piece. This was based on the fact that the game is supposed to mirror my own thought process in discovering what preservation is actually about. It begins with this idea of restoring somebody through A.I., through a big metal box with their personality inside, a literal monument, a physical presence, but ends with the box lecturing you about how this emulation isn’t real, and how the way the person being emulated truly lives on is through the adventure you just endured, through the memory that bullshit, exhausting quest just created. 

I did all of this without consciously thinking about the battle, but I think subconsciously, it was always there. The character you play as understands his quest to complete the Emulation as a means to end his sorrow. I thought of the battle that same way. The character undergoes a revelation at quest’s end that it wasn’t about some physical thing fixing their sense of loss, but rather using death as a means to spur on new, exciting things, to build new memories, to live on because the ones they loved were once there. Gettysburg didn’t fix me. Gettysburg was never going to fix me. But it was fun, and I never would have gone if I wasn’t at that funeral. 

[sluttywonwoo]

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!” 

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

[weirdkpopgirl]

Comfort | Dream Headcanon #4

Headcanon: How they comfort their gf when she’s sad or insecure

Genre: Angst, Slight fluff

Warnings: Mentions of mental health, anxiety, & depression

Word Count: 2423

Author’s Note: It took me a while to write this. Some are longer than others but I did my best to not sound repetitive to all the members. Thank you for reading ^-^

~ ~ ~

MARK

Mark was an attentive boyfriend, and he cared a lot for your wellbeing. So when there was that one small change like the way you seemed to use all your strength to smile at him, he noticed. 

“(Y/n)-ah, you seem tired,” He said when he caught you zoning out again.

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine.”

Mark didn’t ask any further than that. He knew something was bothering you. But you were stubborn and someone who kept their emotions to themselves. You didn’t want to burden Mark with your problems.

Nevertheless, Mark still made sure to keep a watchful eye on you. Even though you never said anything to him, he would be by your side silently. Doing his best to make you laugh and feel loved when you were together. He did these things with the hope that you would eventually tell him what was wrong.

 But the more time passed, the more Mark felt uneasy. There was one day you were hanging out together, and you had left the room to pick up a call. When you were gone for too long, Mark got up to see if everything was okay.

His suspicions were correct when he heard you yelling on the phone. Instantly as he entered the room, he saw you hang up in frustration and angrily ran your hands through your hair. When the first tears fell, Mark decided that he couldn’t stand idly by any longer.

The rapper slowly approached you. You couldn’t even keep it together when you realized he was there. You were so overwhelmed with exasperation and agony, that you couldn’t hold it in anymore. He would place his hands on your shoulders and meet your eyes.

“(Y/n)-ah, look at me.”

Shaking your head, “I-I’m sorry. It’s…it’s just…”

“Come on, let’s sit down and talk.” He took your hand and led you back to the living room. He had you sit on the couch, while he knelt in front of you.

He could feel your body trembling and shaky breaths, as more tears of frustration streamed down your cheeks. It saddened him to see you in this condition. But this was going to happen one way or another.

Gently rubbing his hands over yours, softly he would say, “I…I’ve noticed you were upset recently. And I was waiting for you to come to me.”

He looked into your watery eyes with a sad smile, “But I guess I’m the one who has to come to you.”

His sweet words only made you cry more. “I’m sorry Mark,” you sobbed, “I thought…I thought I could handle everything on my own. I just didn’t want you to see me like…this.”

Mark stood up to hug you. “You know I’m always here for you, Jagiya. You don’t have to hide anything.” 

“You don’t have to suffer alone. Share your pain with me so we can get through it together.” He wiped any remaining tears with his thumb.

He would be with you the rest of the day and make sure you were okay. Once you calmed down, you told him about your argument with your mom and how she’s been tearing you apart. 

Mark listened the whole time and you finally allowed yourself to be comforted. You hadn’t realized how much Mark cared about you until now. But you were grateful to have someone like him in your life.

✎____________________________________________________________

RENJUN

Due to conflicting schedules, Renjun wasn’t able to see you for the past couple of weeks. You had nearly forgotten what life was like without your boyfriend. Before you met, you were dealing with family problems and your depression was getting worse. You were stuck in this tunnel of darkness, and you were on the verge of going completely insane.

Somewhere along the way, you started dating Renjun, you were distracted from the gloomy frame of mind. Now that he wasn’t here, everything you had buried down inside you was returning. You were forced to go back into the field of monsters you and others in your life had created. It was overwhelming and you felt so pathetic.

When Renjun finally got a break, he didn’t hesitate to run over to your apartment to meet you. What he didn’t know was that you had come back home feeling miserable after having to deal with personal matters. So when you saw him at your doorstep with flowers and a smile, you almost broke down right then and there.

You let him come inside and embraced him for a long hug. Renjun was a bit taken aback by your sudden affection. But he gladly welcomed it and hugged you back.

“I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long,” He first apologized, “Did something happen?”

You simply shook your head. “It’s just been a long week. I missed you.”

Renjun would start to tear up when he heard this from you. He hugged you closer and whispered that he missed you too. The two of you would spend the rest of the day cuddling and talking about miscellaneous things. 

It was probably one of the first times you were more affectionate and real with each other about how you felt. He would tell you how much he cared about you and how he was going to make sure you were always smiling when you were with him.

✎____________________________________________________________

JENO

Whenever you were sad, Jeno also felt sad. Jeno knew how low your confidence and self-esteem were. It was hard to see someone he cared about feeling so down about themselves. There were so many things to love about you. Jeno couldn’t fathom how you didn’t see them. But he understood that it was easier said than done.

You were scrolling through your phone, and Jeno had gone to sit beside you on the floor in front of the couch. He peeked over your shoulder to see you looking at female celebrities on Instagram. He heard you mutter about how you wished you could be pretty like them.

“(Y/n)-ah…”

Not noticing the sad tone in his voice, you would start talking to him about all the things you wanted to change about yourself. Jeno’s heart sank further the more he listened.

“Don’t you think I would be better if I-” You were caught off guard by Jeno’s lips on yours. He pulled away and saw your cheeks flushed a bright pink color. 

“Jagiya, you don’t need to change yourself. I love you the way you are.”

You shyly fidgeted with the ends of your sleeves, “But I-”

“You’re perfect,” he said. Your heart immediately softened by Jeno’s words.

“Really?”

He chuckled and petted your head. “Yes and don’t let anyone- not even yourself think otherwise.” 

✎____________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

You were a quiet, gentle, and kind person who spoke softly. Haechan often smiled at this because he liked how your contrasting personalities balanced each other out. But recently Haechan thought you were being too quiet. You seemed to distance yourself from him, and rarely join in any of the conversations with his members.

He knew that you had a lot of anxiety, whether it was about yourself or something else. If one bad thing happened, you were easily pushed into this storm of negative thoughts. More than anything, he wished that he could make all that disappear. But it wasn’t as simple as that.

On one particular day when you were overthinking every little thing, Haechan refused to stand by and watch you suffer alone. He walked up and wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into a back hug. The boy would then proceed to bring you over to his bedroom to cuddle and plant kisses all over your face. He murmured things about how cute he thought you were and how lucky he was to be with you.

“Are you crying?” Haechan sat up in surprise.

You covered your eyes, “I can’t help it! You’re being so sweet when I’ve been pushing you away this whole time.”

“I know you’ll talk to me when you’re ready.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Haechan chuckled and laid back down with you.

“Now that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

But on a serious note, Haechan was saddened whenever you said things like that. He knew that he didn’t tell you enough about how much you meant to him, and he was starting to regret it now. With a pout on his lips, he would hug you tighter.

“You shouldn’t say things like that Jagi. It makes my heart hurt.”

✎____________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

Similar to Haechan, he knew that you weren’t feeling your best these past few days. Though he never said it out loud, he hated how you kept everything to yourself. While without a doubt you were always there to encourage and comfort him when needed, you rarely allowed the boy to do the same.

It was because you didn’t want to burden others with something that wasn’t even a big deal. That was your excuse and Jaemin hated seeing you belittle yourself. Nonetheless, he never pried and let you be. He knew that if he was patient, you would eventually open up.

Then the time came when you were so tired of hiding your struggles and pretending you were okay. Jaemin saw you sitting in a withdrawn position at the end of the couch. In this situation, he would put aside the cute and energetic image and focus on taking care of you.

He could hear your small sniffles. Jaemin would steadily walk over to where you were and kneeled at your level. Noticing his presence, you would lift your head to see him. His heart sank when he saw the rim of your eyes were red from crying. 

“Bad day?” He would ask softly. You slightly turned away and harshly swept at any other tears that escaped. 

“Aish I really didn’t want you to see me like this.” 

You were a total mess and the last thing you wanted was for Jaemin to see you in such a state. Little did you know that Jaemin was relieved that you were letting out some of your emotions. 

He would take your hand and gently rub his fingers across your knuckles. Then he would glance back at you. “What do you need right now?”

Fingers curling into the couch seat, your front teeth nibbling at your bottom lip, debating on how to respond. You looked at your boyfriend hesitantly, and that was when you realized you couldn’t keep up this act anymore. You needed him.

“Can you please just…hold me. For a little bit?” You asked timidly.

Before you could take back your words in embarrassment, you felt the couch sink beside you. He opened his arms for you, “Come here.”

Without any words, Jaemin brought you into his lap and nudged your head to rest on his chest. Just as you had asked, he held you close to him and squeezed in all the comfort he could give you.

“You know how much I love you and how I’ll always be here for you.” He caressed your shoulder. “Right?”

Breathing in, you nuzzled your head into his neck and closed your eyes. “I love you too.” 

He pressed a kiss against your forehead and then leaned down to kiss you on the lips. How was it possible that you were with the sweetest person on earth? You didn’t know if you were ready to tell Jaemin everything yet. But just being in his embrace was enough to let all of what was bothering you dissolve.

✎____________________________________________________________

CHENLE

There was a presentation for school that you had been stressing about for the past two weeks. Chenle was there to witness you spending hours doing thorough research and putting together a neat slide deck. Compared to him, you were always organized and on top of everything. The only problem was the presenting part.

One of your worst fears was public speaking. You just got so anxious at the thought of going up to talk in front of the class. No matter how hard you worked on the project or how much you had prepared, you were still nervous.

You were grateful to have Chenle to practice with. Whenever you got discouraged, he was there to keep your sanity and reassure you. Surprisingly he was a lot more supportive than you thought he would be.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, you got this!”

On the day of the presentation, you didn’t feel very good. The closer your turn was, the faster your heart rate sped up. You tried to remind yourself to breathe, but it wasn’t working well. Then all of a sudden, your thoughts came to a stop when Chenle put a hand over your shaky ones.

“Hey, you’re gonna do great okay?” His big eyes poured into yours. “If you get nervous, you can just look at me.”

When you went up to present, you could see Chenle giving you a thumbs-up. Taking a deep breath, you started your presentation and before you could blink, it was over. After class ended, Chenle took you to get your favorite food to calm any remaining nerves. He was proud of you for getting through this.

“See? I told you that you would be fine.”

✎____________________________________________________________

JISUNG

The poor boy would immediately panic if he saw you crying. You never cried in front of him before, so he was a bit clueless at first. He tried to think about the times when you comforted him and went from there.

Jisung carefully sat beside you and awkwardly patted your back. He knew that you’ve been having a hard time recently. He wished he could do more to help.

“It’s okay (Y/n)-ah. It’s good to let it out sometimes,” he would say and hand you some tissues.

He would sit there quietly with you until you stopped crying. Then he would ask if you wanted to talk about it. If you said yes, he would do his best to listen and try to help you feel better. If you said no, then he would respect that but still tell you that he was there for you.

“Thank you for being by my side,” You hugged him, “I really appreciate it.” 

He smiled, proud that he handled this situation so well. He would definitely do his best in the future to make sure you came to him when you were sad.

✎____________________________________________________________

[alienisticxo]

Before the Fever - Chapter Nine

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} we’re getting into the thick of it now :’) Chapter 10 is already almost done too! i'm constantly writing- now that were getting to the burn part it’s just exuding from my pores and onto the virtual page. can you believe i've been writing all of this on my phone?! 

i hope you guys are enjoying it. ♡

thank you so much for hanging in and reading as always!

{gif by michaelmercer} 

enjoy ♡ 

Chapter Nine - Fighting the Same Battle

She trusted me.  

Now that was something I never thought I’d hear her say.  

I tried to make sense of the sentiment, to calm the way I felt when she said it. In a matter of minutes she’d gone from enemy to friendly. There was a sense of relief in that.  

What a new mix of sensation it offered.  

I could only stare at the girl, completely lost for words. I knew being honest was always the correct path despite what the ONI and Halsey may have practiced, but being as blunt as Cortana had been with her seemed to do the trick to get her to understand.  

Why hadn’t I thought to be that way with her before? Well, it was classified then. It was different now. Cortana was right, we were fighting the same battle. Albeit for different reasons, yet somehow they were still similar. She wanted away from the UNSC and all the pain it seemed to have caused her. I…  

Wasn’t sure what I wanted...  

A little more thought brought it around. They caused me more trouble than I ever realized, and I wanted the truth. I wanted to know what this Keystone had to do with myself, my past. I wanted to know who cleared Halsey to do this to us to begin with and why she thought it would be a good idea to polish us into blank canvases to do the heavy lifting for her. I could never bring my parents back. But, I wanted to know who I was, who I could’ve been..  

If there was anyone other than a Spartan who could understand how that felt, I realized then, that it might’ve been {Y/N}.  

Anger surfaced when I thought about how Halsey was to blame for both of us. Remembering that I trusted her, had faith in her my entire life, felt like no one else could ever fill her shoes, only rubbed it in further.  

————

Both Cortana and John looked at me as though I’d just spoken Sangheili to them though I couldn’t exactly read either of their faces. Maybe it was a little insane to see the semblance we now shared; to suddenly voice that I trusted him despite all of the push-back I’d done.

Where it had perplexed me before, The Master Chief’s intense insistence on my revealing what I’d seen and heard on The Covenant ship to Doctor Halsey became clear. He was simply trying to piece together his own history. His own forgotten memories of a life he once had. And it wasn’t just that, but he was dealing with a plethora of feelings, too. How could I blame him for it? I’d dealt with emotion all my life. I was still unsure of it all.

“Where are we going?” I pressed further, though he nor Cortana responded to my last statement.

After a beat, John’s shoulders loosened, his line of sight drifting to another corner of the craft.

“Rubble.”

“What?” I immediately piped up.

“You’ll stay with someone I can trust once I’m gone.”

“No, you can’t send me back there, please. They’ll find me in no time, they’ll–” I cut myself short.

They’ll find Astra, too, I thought instead. Though there was no real reason to take her in, I was afraid they’d use her as a bargaining chip to get to me. I hadn’t given much thought to where I’d end up once all of this was over, but while it was still going strong, especially while we were wanted, I couldn’t go back there.

“It’s what’s best,” John finalized through what sounded like a quiet sigh.

I was too preoccupied with our next location to be concerned with whether or not he still found me annoying. I shook my head, nearly unable to stop as I stood from my own place on the floor, as though I’d be able to run away again.

“I won’t go back there. You can’t leave me there..”

I had no tears left to give, but I could feel my face burning hot with emotion.

“Perhaps.. Given the circumstances, it might not be too far-fetched to head in another direction,” Cortana suggested.

“I already sent Kai to Rubble with The Artifact,” John seemed to remind her, his tone stern.

Though it felt like news to me, I vaguely remembered hearing him tell Cortana about direction back on Reach. I was so dazed, so much in shock, that I hadn’t put two and two together. The Blessed One who belonged to The Covenant popped into my head once more. I could still feel her cold stare burning into my own retinas. My skin crawled. Did she know where to find us? Was our escape going to end up a trap if the Keystone was in either of our hands again?

“Trajectories are changeable,” Cortana started. “I’m sure once she arrives and notices you’re not there—“

“She’ll think I set her up for failure. I can’t do that to her.”

I tried to think of a way to help resolve the issue and still stay away from Rubble. It felt impossible, now dealing with a set of problems that I hadn’t had any experience in. Wrangling disobedient Spartans had to be a task in and of itself. It didn’t make it right, but it was no wonder Doctor Halsey felt the need to suppress them so harshly.

“Maybe.. we go to Rubble,” I began to compromise. “Just until The Keystone is secure. And then—“

“We change course with {Y/N},” Cortana finished for me. “An idea worth considering, when headquarters is more than likely pinpointing and pursuing various locations in the area already. If they manage to grab her, it’s your head on the chopping block later.”

But John looked unamused; more so than usual.

“And when Kai gets back to Reach? Without me there—“

“She’ll deal with the consequences. She’s a big girl, Chief. She can handle herself. She knows you’re not exactly the favorite at the moment, but she took the directive and ran with it without question. I, for one, believe in Kai. She exhibits similar traits as you do. I don’t think it’ll take her much work to avoid any unfavorable outcomes for her insubordination— Especially if Halsey needs her to keep quiet. Which she absolutely does.”

Cortana eyed John, but immediately spoke again. “I can tell what you’re thinking. Another missing Spartan wouldn’t look good for anyone. Doctor Halsey would be better off disappearing herself.”

The cogs were turning in his head, it was visible, but The Master Chief stayed adamant.

“We almost lost her on the field,” John responded, staring back at me instead. He seemed to peel his eyes away again to head back to the front of the ship. “She locked up, panicked. She nearly got herself killed at a critical moment. I can leave {Y/N} with Soren and Kwan. I’m sure they’ll figure it out from there until the heat dies down. Safely.”

I could only stare as the two countered one another. They both seemed to have their reasonings. But it almost hurt to hear that he was just going to dump me back on Rubble like.. nothing. Never to be seen again. I knew I had been the one coming around, my perspective of the Spartan shifting into something more favorable. It was probably silly of me to assume he’d been warming up to me, too. Clearly, it was.

“It was a learning experience,” Cortana began again. “Just look how Kai has handled since! You’re forgetting, if she’s already executed the objective, she’s steps ahead of the credit you’re currently giving her. Odds are she was already in hot water for not showing up with Riz and Vannak when you were in the process of escaping with {Y/N}, anyway. She’s a Spartan, Chief. She’s got more than what it takes.”

It felt nice to have someone on my side, fighting for what I wanted. Though I highly doubted Cortana was doing it for my sake, probably John’s more than anything, it was welcome all the same.

“Please, Master Chief..” was all I could silently utter, my voice lost in their conversation.

I couldn't explain the real reason that I tried to bury; that I didn’t feel safe without him near anymore, especially after the way he’d protected me so readily when we were being chased. Giving into emotion just a little more, it meant something to me. Where I’d often felt as though no one cared, he showed me otherwise just moments ago. And whether it was the hero complex I thought the soldiers maintained or not, I found myself uncaring of that aspect. His humanity continued to shine through with each little gesture. I couldn’t ignore that.

Even if he wanted to leave me back on Rubble. He did mention my safety..

————

When I looked into her eyes, it was almost unnerving, the pleading she was doing with me. Not because it made me uneasy, but because I didn’t know how to give her what she wanted with the best possible outcome.

After everything that happened, how could I deny her the one thing she asked for? I had no other place to take her, to leave her. Especially not one where I knew she’d be safe. I’d only known where previous missions had sent Silver Team. No planet was truly secure.  

I didn’t know why I cared that she’d be safe. I let Cortana’s words roll back around in my head.

‘Smitten.’  

Was that the instinct I felt? I felt compelled to make sure Kwan Ha was in good hands, but this? This was entirely different all the way around. There was no connection with Kwan, just making sure the right thing was done when they’d ordered Article 72 on an innocent person. My first real leap into the world of right and wrong.

But smitten… Smitten was extremely close to ‘love’ and other heavy emotions that seemed too daunting to take on and way beyond my scope. I silently hoped the feeling was controllable when I forced myself to look away from {Y/N} and head back to the cockpit.  

Still, I stopped in the entryway, turning to face her again. There was an odd pull toward her that was suddenly constantly eating at me. I pushed myself to ignore it.  

And for once in my entire life as an armored Spartan, I felt grotesquely monstrous in my Mjolnir— like the demon they all claimed me to be; intimidating when I didn’t intend it. The girl had been shaken enough. She deserved something softer, less imposing. These things we’d dealt with weren’t easy for anyone to handle. I could see the way she still faintly trembled, and our first encounter in the abandoned house on Rubble came to mind. It was surprising to see what she could withstand.

Maybe she would’ve made a decent marine after all.  

“We’ll go to Rubble,” I began, noticing the way her face immediately fell. “And then Eridanus II.”  

Her chest seemed to deflate with a sigh of relief, her eyes closing briefly. It was going to be hell for us both if they found us, but I just couldn’t disappoint her anymore in that regard. That was the only place remotely empty that I knew. I’d decide what to do with The Keystone once we’d settled.

“Cortana, do you have the coordinates to our last locale on Eridanus? My, last locale,” I corrected.  

“Of course,” she said, not missing a beat. “I’ll pull it up.”

Finding my way back into the seat, I let my body relax as much as I could without fighting it. My eyes were heavy, and while that was a rare occurrence, I was beginning to feel the effects of the day. Staring out into the vastness of space, I spoke as quietly as I possibly could when I noticed Cortana had sized herself back down and stood in the same spot on the panel she’d been before.  

“What is this that I’m feeling, really?” I asked.

A smirk placed itself on her features.  

“I’m serious, Cortana.”  

The A.I. dropped her act, holding her hands behind her back and pondering for only a few seconds.

“As I mentioned previously, it could have something to do with the connection you two share over the Keystone. Or…” She lifted her chin just so. “You’ve found some kind of kinship in her. She understands you, and you’ve lacked said familiar biological source for quite some time, if always. It’s possible that alone has your heart racing when you‘re around her. This seems to happen often in humans who are less experienced in the ways of human interaction. Teenagers are more susceptible, for instance, and it’s like what your species would call ‘puppy love,’ if you will. Given your status with the pellet being removed for the first time since adolescence, it’s not an unnatural response.”

“Stop,” I held my hand up. “L—,”

I shook my head, unable to finish the thought.  

“That’s not what this is. It has to be the Keystone.”  

“If you say so,” she muttered through her teeth, clearly unbelieving of my statement.  

I glanced behind my shoulder, noticing {Y/N} had curled herself back up into a ball as far down the ship as possible against the interior, her frame illuminated only by the starlight that poured in through the windows. The sight of her in that position kicked up a sensation of what I recognized to be empathy. It wasn’t as tolerable as I thought it would be.

The previously mentioned ‘hug’ surfaced back into my thoughts.  

“Devil's advocate,” I began again, still quiet, though I was sure {Y/N} couldn’t hear anything past our voices murmuring. “What if that is what I’m feeling?”

“Well, Chief, I’m afraid I can’t help you much in that department. I’m in your neural interface, but your emotions and decisions are your own. How you decide to act on that is entirely up to you. You’ve already tested my limits, remember?”

She cocked a brow.  

Always helpful, this one.  

“I don’t know how to act on it. I don’t.. Does she…”

“Feel the same way?” she questioned, leaning forward to get a better look at me before glancing in her direction, too.  

I stayed silent. I’d never felt so.. juvenile. Even as kids, this kind of subject matter was the furthest thing from our minds.  

“I can’t speak for her. But, the cues I’ve picked up on might insinuate that she isn’t opposed to your presence.”

“Isn’t opposed to my presence,” I snorted indignantly. “You’ve really got a way with words.”

“Oh, I’m the one ruining your idea of love?”  

A scowl placed itself on my features. The word just sounded like it would taste bitter on my own tongue. It wasn’t an idea I had at all. ‘ Love’ was for the marines who’d grown too close over too long of time away from home, fraternization cases waiting to happen. It meant busted ranks. Distractions on duty. It held no place in a Spartan’s world. The closest thing we had was our loyalty to each other— and even when we lost a brother or sister, it was business as usual.  

Until we opened our eyes, of course.

This girl and I, we had no real reason to be engaged in anything of the sort. It didn’t matter to me that this could be a symptom of being repressed for so long. As far as I understood, something that deep that people seemed to value so highly took time. Effort. Energy. All things that had never taken place between us. If I didn’t have an HUD and Cortana, I might not even know her full name. So why did I feel so drawn to her? How could this have happened the way it did? From one minute to the next… It frustrated me above anything else.  

But Cortana seemed to throw the idea around like it was normal. Just another cog in the machine. I didn’t care how much {Y/N} and I suddenly ‘understood’ each other; how beautiful I found her. How unfamiliarly gentle she was when she’d taken my hand into hers..  

I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes; tried to ignore my own thoughts as they escaped me so easily when it came to letting myself think of her.  

The A.I.’s brow furrowed.  

“Your levels….” she trailed off before inhaling and starting up again, more seriously than before. “Chief, I know you have little experience in this, and I’m currently incapable of experiencing emotion in the same way you do, but the only directive that seems right, is to follow whatever your heart and instinct is telling you to do. It seems.. And, correct me if I’m wrong— that you’ve already been allowing it to lead the way without even realizing it.”  

Cortana looked around, indicating our current situation.  

Giving it more thought, there was no correction needed.  

————

I opened and closed my palm, wiggling my fingers delicately as I thought of the way he looked when I took his hand. He looked confused, shocked, almost. I wasn’t sure how to take that, and the moment stuck with me more than I thought it would. While I was embarrassed at my own instinct at the time, I didn’t regret my action. If it offered him any sort of solace, any inkling of kindness, it was alright with me. He didn’t pull away from me, and the thought that maybe he felt similarly to the way I did crossed my mind.

John more than likely hated me at this point with all of the extra stress I caused him and countless others. But all I wanted to do was show him that not everyone was so untrustworthy as the people he dealt with; not everyone wanted to gain something from him, or use him up the way he’d been his entire life. He made me feel safe. It seemed silly, especially given his status— the galaxy’s own protector, but I wanted to do the same for him in any way that I could.

Something told me no one ever bothered to make him feel protected. I was sure it was something he never felt he needed, or even gave much thought to.

The wall I’d built simply because of my own jadedness with the world I knew, seemed to be near nonexistent now. He wasn’t happy that Cortana outed his new experience with life and all it entailed to me, but it made all the difference. It allowed me to rethink the way I felt, to reevaluate my own guarded nature with him.

It wasn’t his fault. I’d had no real experience with a Spartan, just what I’d heard, what I’d seen. How blind I suddenly felt about the entire ordeal.

And I’d had enough time to think about what was happening in the present, sitting curled up in the back of the craft. After a while, it occurred to me that I’d never actually expressed my gratitude for his help. While he’d taken me in to begin with, he was now risking everything to get me as far away as possible.

That also meant something. No one had ever tried to right any kind of wrong with me— whether he saw it that way or not.

Without a sound, I stood from my place and quietly moseyed over toward the cockpit. Remaining far enough away, I wanted to provide the two privacy in whatever conversation they were having. It was clear I didn’t need to be privy to it, and I respected that the best I could within the limited space.

“Master Chief?” I called out– though still quietly, provided the area. He immediately turned around to face me.

The movement was so quick, it almost startled me. It reminded me of someone who was waiting for something awful to happen at any given moment, hoping they’d be able to prevent it. I imagined that must've been how he lived his life, and that tugged at my heartstrings. Never being able to fully relax, never knowing what a moment of peace felt like. While I didn’t have it quite as bad, I knew how that could feel, too.

He stared at me without a word, his eyes intense, waiting.

“I never did get to say thank you,” I spoke softly, almost nervous, now. “For taking me out of there.. I’m not sure what Doctor Halsey was going to do with me after the tests were over, but I can’t imagine it would’ve been good.”

He leaned back a little, as though that wasn’t what he expected from me. I supposed there were going to be a lot of ‘unexpecteds’ between us in the time to come.

Cortana peeked over at him, a hint of a smile on her face.

“And thank you, too, Cortana,” I continued, a hand finding its way to my opposite arm, rubbing absently at a bruise from Halsey’s collection of data.

“Don’t mention it,” she quipped happily.

But John remained stoic, intense. He nodded once vaguely, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re welcome.”

I bowed my head just a bit before turning around to find my place again. I wasn’t expecting some grand speech or show, his response was enough. All I needed was for him to know that I did appreciate his willingness to throw it all on the line for me. But it was what happened next that surprised me most of all.

“Hey,” John breathed.

I stopped, facing him again in slight shock.

A few seconds passed, and with a heavy sigh, he stood from his place, and lifted an arm in my direction.

Confusion was my initial reaction, and he picked up on that quickly, clearly knowing this would be confusing to anyone. His hand then motioned me in for… a hug. His expression still seemed quite disconnected, but I didn’t take it personally. I was sure it had to be hard for him to even offer up the gesture to begin with.

And while I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, I couldn’t help myself. I needed the comfort. I needed to feel something other than fear and exhaustion. I didn’t want to think that I may have needed some part of him, too. That would’ve been a scarier realization to come to that I wasn’t sure I was ready for, either, especially so soon.

I nearly ran into his arms, uncaring of the bulky, cold metal that encased him. His strong arm latched around my small frame, squeezing gently— so gently in fact, that I wondered if he thought he’d crush me otherwise.

I’d never felt so delicate, and it was even more amusing that the sensation surfaced in the arms of a fully armored Spartan.

But I finally let go.

Melting completely against The Master Chief, I stood, my arms squeezing around his immovable build until they were sore, tears I didn’t know I had left streaming between the rough alloy and my skin. I felt his arm tighten, the other moving to wrap around me in turn as my body shook gently. He must’ve decided my breakdown in his arms was worth the entire embrace.

I couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t try to read what he was thinking or even begin to explain myself. All I could do was feel an insurmountable amount of emotion like a million waves breaking over the shore. And while there was no body heat between us, no extra detail to the touch we shared, it was more than enough.

It was genuine. It was all I needed.

My collapse was no longer just about recent events, but the entirety of my life and how derailed it had become over time. It all tied in together. From being left on Rubble as a child, to being here now, with John. I’d stolen the Keystone, I’d brought this upon myself. But it all seemed intertwined, connected. As though maybe fate had brought me here. To learn about my parents, to help him learn about himself. I was tired, stressed, feeling unstable in more ways than one. He had to be, too. I didn’t care how strong he was or what wars he’d fought and won. There was no way he wasn’t. All of these events had become very, very personal.

There wasn’t another word shared between us, just my sniffling and quiet sobbing that I was unable to control. Typically, I would’ve been slightly mortified to be seen in such a way. But in the mess we were in, there was no room for that. We were fighting the same battle now, just like Cortana said. For the time being, we only had each other. I needed his hug like I needed air— and it hadn’t even occurred to me until it happened.

His hand began to rub my back ever so slightly— he seemed so cautious, so careful for being so large and menacing the green titanium, riddled with dents and pings from our escape. In the midst of it all I tried to put myself in his shoes, to really understand the gravity of just how much he was dealing with, just how much he was possibly losing over me and his mission to search for himself. The bullets he took and the fists he’d faired, the plasma he’d dodged and the reputation he’d garnered.. and not just recently, but for as long as he could remember.

For just a brief moment, while I knew he meant to comfort me, I wondered who the embrace was really for.

-x-x-x-

Tags: @grimistangel​

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!