#i'm so content with this change in my thinking

[cheralith]

my serendipity ₊˚⊹♡

— promise yourself to him, and he'll love you forever tenfold. or... the blue lock boys and their proposals to you.

starring ; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser content warnings ; gn!reader, reader wears a skirt (bachira), cursing (shidou/kaiser), reader wears a dress and heels (kaiser), lowk ooc shidou, mildly ooc kaiser, not fully edited as of 02/15 a/n ; happy late valentine's day everyone and a happy birthday to me hehe! i hope i'm not late by a mere day, but this is both my valentine's day event and my birthday gift from me to you all, so i hope that alongside this, you're surrounded by nothing but tender loving care amidst the season of love ( •◡-)-♡! there's also a collection of some of my favorite love songs i've added under each of the names that i think fit them/their scene, so take a listen for a more immersive experience, so enjoy!

— love, isagi yoichi.

The freshness of the meadow's air was an atmosphere you think you can breathe in forever, for it was so much more pristine and clear than the air you were used to in the city. The setting sun overviews the seaside town that you and your boyfriend took the pleasure of visiting as a treat for you both since he was currently off season and you decided to make the most out of what you could do. It was a scene straight out of a painting, you think to yourself, as yellows and oranges paint the sky overhead, a sliver of iris beginning to take over as twilight sets.

The little town below you hustles and bustles about, its townspeople fluttering over to wrap up the seemingly mundane day. You're a little envious that they get to see such a beautiful sight like this everyday and get to breathe in fresh air without the mayhem of cars and salarymen scattering themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in the cooling spring air of the meadow, letting yourself linger amidst the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside.

You'll miss this. The peace and placidity of a place like this. You dream of retiring to a cottage somewhere similar to here, somewhere where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer. You think it'd do you some good.

"I think some wine would pair well with your daydreaming," a voice says playfully.

Opening your eyes, you see your companion holding a bottle of wine in his hands, gentle eyes softening at your serenity. Yoichi is glad he brought you here, knowing that you needed a break from city life to just simply get away to the tranquility of the countryside. The change in you was more than evident—the stiffness in your body was long gone upon arrival and you were much more laxed when it came to last minute changes on the itinerary. It was rare he saw this side of you, so he savored it with every moment he was able to get.

Smiling gently at your boyfriend, you nod and let him pour two glasses of white wine into the glasses you and him had brought for this picnic.

"How're the sandwiches?" Yoichi asks, handing you your glass. "I bought them at this local diner nearby the hotel, so I hope they're okay."

"I really was never much of a bologna fan until now," you say as you pick up your half-eaten sandwich and hold it out for him to take a nibble. "It's a little salty, but I like it."

"I'm glad," he affirms through chews before he hums in approval. "Did you try the charcuterie board yet? This place is known for their cheeses."

You shake your head. Yoichi grins and eagerly begins to throw together a cheese-and-cracker creation, topped off with a bit of crumbled nuts. He gently cups his hand underneath the one holding the stack and motions for you to come forward.

Biting gently and letting his hand catch the crumbs, you giggle when you thoughtfully chew on the combinations as Yoichi throws the extra crumbs in his mouth to not let anything go to waste.

"Hey! This was pricey," he claims, "I'm sure half a cracker cost one hundred yen each..."

You fight the urge to spit out your food at his exaggeration. Yoichi may be a world class soccer player, with the mere mention of his name lighting peoples' faces with pride as the ace of one of Japan's soccer teams, but despite his hefty salary, there was still that semi-frugal middle class boy who still debated in buying a yogurt drink or ice cream whenever you and him stopped by a convenience store—never mind the fact that he could buy fifty of each in one sitting.

His humbleness, however, is what made you so drawn to him in the first place. He knew, you knew, and everyone knew of his great skill and play on the field, but in interviews, he was always one to scratch his neck and say "I just did what I could, really..." post-games. Yoichi never let the fame get to his head, and his ability to stay so grounded to earth made you filled with love solely for him and him alone.

The mix of the sweetness of the cheese and the saltiness of the cracker blend beautifully together on your tongue. You mimic his actions from before and give a hum and nod with approval at your boyfriend's taste.

There's a few other assortments of food that you and him have collected prior to the picnic—some fresh fruit you had bought and cut from the farmer's market, a small pasta bowl made by Yoichi himself, little quiches you had grabbed from one of the bakeries, and a strange white box that peeks itself out of the picnic basket that you have yet to open that was brought by Yoichi.

Gently clinking your glasses together, the wine that goes down your throat feels just as mellow as the atmosphere that hugs you and your boyfriend. Everything feels just so perfect right now, you could bathe yourself in such contentment.

Some conversations float by between you and Yoichi, breezy and effortless for sometime as the sun slowly sets itself into the mountains. Talks about work, about his recent plays (you laugh out loud whenever his anger gets the best of him and a short fuse of cusses spit out from him when he talks about specific players' plays, throwing a stray at one of his teammates), about the latest gossips, everything that just comes naturally to you. There was no need for a filter whenever Yoichi was with you. His judgement barely shone through when you were around.

He finishes the last of his wine rather quickly. Yoichi places it down gently and grabs your hands in his own. "I have a surprise for you."

A brow raises as your lips curl. "Oh?"

"Wait here, yeah?" Yoichi asks as grabs the picnic basket and places it in front of you. "I have to go grab something from the car. Why don't you prepare the cake in the meantime, hm? Maybe do some cleanup with the food, too, since it's getting late."

"Oh so that's what's inside the box," you murmur.

"Uh huh, I had it specially made for us," he says with a pinch of excitement in his voice. Yoichi gathers up a few of the plates and juts them in your hands, a wobbly smile upon his face as he gets up and dusts himself off, beginning to jog off in the direction of the parking lot. "I'll be right back!"

You blink at his hastiness, a little out of character for him, but shrug as you return back to your original position facing the coastal town and sunset. You're glad he tasked you with cleaning up the leftovers, since you've grown accustomed to Yoichi's occasional messiness and clumsiness when it came to handling food. There was one time during a friend's dinner party that he dropped the pot roast in front of everyone, meat going everywhere to Bachira's delight and to Barou's disdain. You also grow a little weary whenever he's around ceramic, since he's broken quite a few bowls and plates without much effort since Yoichi doesn't seem to have a grasp of his own strength whenever he washes the dishes.

You shake your head at the memories, quietly laughing to yourself when you remember Barou forcing him to mop his apartment floor from the remnants of the meat as a punishment. Barou still invites you over to his house during group events, but you often have to plead with him to invite your boyfriend, now used to the pulled face he makes or the curse of "Is the donkey really necessary to bring?" through the phone.

Tenderly, you open the picnic basket and carefully take out the white cake box to put it on the blanket. You go to prepare two plates together for the cake and take the cake cutter out of the basket, ready for slicing. Your fingers gently tug at the delicate silk ribbon right before you open the lid.

Your heart skips a beat.

It's a simple white vanilla cake shaped into a heart. Its framed with pale pink frosting on its side, as well as a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries placed in some places of the framing. But it's not the design of the cake that captures you.

It's what's written on it.

Four words written in delicate cursive so clearly and distinctly that it's hard to miss.

Will you marry me?

Your breath hitches as you read it with glazed eyes, your head whipping around to call Yoichi over, thinking perhaps he grabbed the wrong cake by accident from the cake shop, but your doubts suddenly dissipate when you're faced with Yoichi on one knee before you...

... with a velvet box in hand, a glimmering ring ready for you tucked carefully within it.

Words falter, and you can only stare at him in astonishment as he smiles at you, his lips still a little crooked in apprehension.

He bites his lip, grin growing a little wider as tears brim your eyes.

"Well?"

— with all my heart, bachira meguru.

"Meguru, that's cheating!"

"Since when where there rules to tag?!"

You huff in annoyance as your boyfriend hops off the railing of the staircase he just slid down from as his hand grazed your back to indicate you were "it" again.

You can feel some of the stares of the security guards that were left to babysit you and him as you dash your way down the staircase to chase after your boyfriend through the empty halls of the museum he had cleared out for you and him this evening. That's one of the many pros of being a professional soccer player—that anything can be bent at someone's will with a mere slide of stacks of cash. And Meguru had decided to use his own gain to entertain you and him.

By playing a game of tag between the two of you in amidst the massive art museum.

He claimed it was the perfect foundation for it; pillars to hide behind, a maze of rooms to obscure the tail that one may have on another, wide halls to run around in. For Bachira Meguru, this was the perfect battleground besides the turf of a soccer field. You suppose it also came from his early love of art due to his mother being a painter, with some of her collections even being shown for the season in one of the halls.

Anyone else of your ages would think such an activity was foolish. To an extent, yes, they were right. You and Meguru were both adults with adult responsibilities and adult lives... but you only live once and you and him lived by the philosophy to live it to the fullest. Childish whimsies came more often to you and your boyfriend, and that was the gravitational pull that drew you and him together to blossom a relationship filled with surprises and spontaneity. You felt unbelievably alive with him.

He'd call you in the middle of the night, asking you if you want to skinny dip in the nearby beach with him. He'd stop the car in the middle of a busy road as the view of an amusement park came closer, snatching your arm and tugging you out of it to run to its entrance. He'd show up at your door with concert tickets in hand unprompted, jutting one in your hand and telling you to get ready.

Bachira Meguru was a lightening bolt, sparking energy everywhere unsolicited. And you were more than happy to be struck over again and again if it meant you felt alive.

So now you're here. It's near midnight, and you're sure you and him have scattered almost all the interior terrain of the museum he cleared out in your game of tag that he brought up to you yesterday evening out of nowhere, telling you to dress nice, but to wear running shoes.

Meguru poked his head out from behind a wall that lead to the other room, giggling as you whip your head a few times to catch where he went before you spot his bright canary yellow eyes and run after him.

You weave through the plethora of statues that sprinkle about the corridor, sprinting after the flash of brown and yellow hair in front of you. It shouldn't be fair that you're currently chasing down a professional soccer player who clearly has the upper hand, but in all honesty, you think the challenge makes it all the more fun.

Stopping to catch your breath, you hunch down for a bit, gathering your skirt in your hands to reveal the worn-out running shoes you wear that contrast heavily to the outfit you're wearing as you collect your energy.

"Don't tell me you're tired already," Meguru sings out, his voice rather close.

You lift your head up to see your boyfriend standing just a few meters in front of you, leaning on a pillar of a statue with a cocky smile, arms crossed as if this was the easiest thing in the world. There wasn't even a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unlike your misted one. Your chest heaves for a few moments, and he watches anticipatingly as you collect yourself before you take a swipe at him.

Meguru jumps back just in time, laughter ringing out as you gather up your speed and sprint. You manage to turn a corner that's shared with the hallway he had just turned on and take a shortcut, waiting behind the open wall before you jump out and tap his shoulder.

"Gotcha," you grin as he gasps in delight and looks back at you, mischief ever so clear in his face.

You attempt to muffle your many fits of giggles when you come up with a plan to try and escape him. There's two choices that unfold before you—either you can run up the flight of stairs into the Greek artifacts or you can enter into the inner garden.

With not much time left, you can hear his quickening footsteps growing louder and louder, and you go for the latter.

Your feet carry you into the dark garden, making you squint your eyes to get a proper view of where you're going, but you see a sheen of light the closer you get to the center of it. Deciding that might be where the common area is, you quickly dart towards it but gasp when the entirety of it comes into full view.

Candles light up the middle area of the garden with rose petals sprinkled about the ground. A large balloon arch of white and gold arcs over what seems to be small semi-circle of little flower bouquets with a small white rug placed delicately in the middle of it all. There's two words that spell themselves out in blocky letter lights.

MARRY ME?

It takes you awhile to register the scene before you, your heart thrumming faster and faster each time you scan it.

"Aw man, you found it too early..." Meguru's voice sulks from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you yelp at your boyfriend's sudden appearance, making him grin. You think you need to take a pause from all the excitement you've been absorbed in for the past few hours, a new one being blossomed at this very moment.

There truly was never a dull moment with Bachira Meguru.

Wordlessly, his smile turns less playful and more tender when you can't find the words to say. He takes your hand in his own grasp and gently leads you to the scene before you, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

"(L/N) (Y/N)," Meguru starts slowly, his voice displaying the utmost sincerety he's able to muster and possibly the most serious you've ever seen him. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being with me for the rest of our lives?"

With someone as special and as enigmatic as Meguru, it really doesn't take you much debating to choose your answer. Someone like this only comes once in a lifetime, and you decide to cherish it as much as you can in this one.

You only live once after all.

You nod, whispering a "Yes..."

Meguru's smile stretches wide before he shouts out in happiness, jumping in the air. You laugh loudly at his antics before he plucks out the ring and puts it on your finger, letting you admire it before sharing a loving kiss. The security guards that oversee the garden let out claps of celebration and a couple of shouts of approval, making you and him laugh at the accidental audience.

Meguru goes to wipe away a fallen tear from your cheek before kissing your forehead gently. He suddenly goes near your ear and whispers,

"This still means you're 'it', by the way."

— sincerely yours, itoshi rin.

Rin always thought he was meant to be alone.

His own parents tended more of their attention to Sae, and Sae himself left Rin to his own devices when Rin was only eleven, just barely hatching into puberty. Much of life Rin had to learn the harder way, where he had no forewarnings from anyone and he had to be taught his own lessons. It was his own self-discipline that got him through much of his younger years that made him so sustainable solely by his own foundations.

Even during games, he tended to lean on his own instincts on what he thought was best rather than relying on his teammates for the best play possible. If it were legible, Rin would've taken an opportunity to play 1v11 in a match since he carried the majority of his teams anyway with his prodigal skills.

He thrived best in an isolated environment anyway. And Rin felt okay with it. No person is forever anyways, not even his own blood.

Until you came along.

It was in his second year during college. It was you and your stupid owl keychain on your stupid backpack that accidentally let out your stupid second volume of Ciguatera right in front of him. It was the stupid way how his hands lingered on the book just a little more than he should've. It was the stupid way that his eyes always gravitated to you during lectures. It was the stupid way that you and him were assigned as partners for a project. It was the stupid way your eyes lit up when you found out he played soccer.

It was the stupid way he felt able to breathe the air much more comfortable around you the more he spent time with you. It was the stupid way the days felt duller when he didn't see you on campus. It was the stupid way his heart fluttered when you laughed, when you smiled, when you said his name.

It was all so... stupid.

A feeling he never felt before had been born from your existence. Itoshi Rin usually had a pretty solid grasp on things he could control, but he didn't know how to handle such a feeling of affection because he hadn't ever felt it before, and it felt too slippery to try and get a firm grip of. You shook his core, and Rin hated it because only one other person in his life was able to do such a thing.

Learning it was best to do so after his last lesson to keep himself safe, he attempted to push you away before his heart broke a second time. Yet somehow, Rin felt more drawn to your pull every time he tried to create space between you and him.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Rin never really gave the feeling such thought in regards to you until he found himself dismal and in a grey area again without seeing your face at least once, but still ever so stubborn, he thought this was best. This is what he was used to—being alone.

"I don't have time for you anymore," he said to you one evening as he dropped you off at your dorm.

You had turned back to him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, but with a small smile still on your face. Without asking for a reason, you merely nodded. "I see. Well... goodbye then."

Rin tried to ignore the way his heart had clenched so tightly as he watched you disappear into your dorm hall without glancing back at him one more time.

But the lines blurred. It wasn't him being alone that he reclused himself to during your absence from his life... but rather loneliness. He was back to being lonely, not alone.

He had to go back to watching movies by himself, conversing with his own thoughts instead of another voice. He had to go back to eating meals by himself without having a foot nudge his own under a table. He had to go back and stop looking for a specific pair of bright eyes and a wishful smile in the stands during games.

He went back to a world of grey of his doing. All because he was terrified to let another person handle his own heart. And he was doing a good job at altering his life back to the way it was, until you did what you usually did best and butt in and splash color all over his monochromatic canvas again.

It was before an away game, in the common-area just before he boarded the coach bus. There, just before you turned the corner, he spotted you saying goodbye to someone, where you had accidentally made eye contact with turquoise eyes that seemed to shine for the first time in a long time at your appearance before him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, feeling relieved that you were still within his radius despite him being the one to create space.

You lingered there for a moment, before swallowing and mouthing to him with that stupid gentle, forgiving smile of yours,

"Good luck. Do well."

Rin sprinted off the bus the moment they were back on campus after winning by a landslide due to his off-the-wall playing. His feet carried him to your dorm, where he rapidly knocked on your door despite it being near midnight. You opened the door to him and despite hating it when people touched him, Rin had held you so tightly with hitched breaths, whispering "I'm sorry..." over and over again into your ear.

And came Itoshi Rin's first love, blossomed on a random Friday night.

His only love at that. He can't imagine the ring in his pocket being for anyone else.

A couple years older now, he walks alongside you on the beach that he used to ponder about whatnot on as he listens to you talk about the latest gossip at work. This is the rhythm of how your dynamic usually works—you talk, Rin listens. He likes it that way. It's an adequate balance.

The air is cooling now, now that autumn is approaching. You're huddled in a light jacket (Rin's, respectively), and gently warm your hands by rubbing them together to let the created friction emit some heat. Rin wordlessly grabs your hands and cups them together, embellishing a better warmth from his own breath instead of letting you do your own work.

Your eyes soften as you let him do his own antics, his own gaze coming to meet yours as his hands envelope yours and clasps them tightly to keep the heat trapped in your skin.

"Is that better?" he asks quietly, eyes looking for any sign of your approval.

You nod contently. "Mm hm."

"I told you to dress warm," he says, sighing, "next time, bring gloves."

You know Rin long enough to know such a tone of phrase isn't necessarily scolding you, but rather cautioning you out of genuine care. It wasn't his fault his voice had a natural cutting-edge tone, but you've grown accustomed to the little bits of adjustments he does to indicate he's not being cold.

The soft sand feels more pliable than usual. Perhaps it was the heavier layers you wear, but you find yourself sinking into it more easily. Rin helps stabilize you by gripping your hand in his own, noticing your imbalance.

"It's just a little further," he murmurs softly, a little shy when he squeezes your hand in his jacket pocket.

He was never able to quite fully get over his fluster around you. You made his head fill with cotton, his heart pound a little harder, whenever you were within his vicinity. Even after six years of being together as an official couple, he never was able to fully get over that high school crush feeling. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe it was meant to be that way. It was probably life's way of telling him that you were made to last for him, as only you were able to emit such a feeling for him when no one else could.

They say the average relationship lasts two years and three months. Yet somehow, Rin has never gotten over the feeling of falling in love with you since the moment he spotted you for the first time during a home game. It's been six years and ten months since that incident, and he figures that if such a feeling hasn't expired yet, it might never will.

The trail of candles suddenly appear before you to your surprise. The sand trail that it frames is the only part of the beach that is untouched by feet, as though it was waiting for you to imprint on it. On the other side of the trail lies a half-circular structure of individual white roses, all standing up right from the sand, along with blanket and a basket of wine and chocolates.

"Oh my," you mumble quietly, clearly taken aback at the rather romantic scene. While your boyfriend always did the most when it came to your dates, this was another level of sentimental. Be it the isolation from other people on the beach or the sunset horizon in the background, you feel a wave of solitude when Rin trails you down the path.

"This is rather new," you say to him suddenly, your eyes wide with worry. "Um, I didn't forget something big, did I? We celebrated your birthday... our anniversary isn't for another month..." you count down all the possible major events that you and Rin celebrated together as a couple on your fingers, but Rin shakes his head.

"No," he interjects. "This... i-is something completely different."

You blink owlishly and tilt your head, leaning your face closer to examine your boyfriend's blushed cheeks.

"Oh, are you proposing?" you ask inquisitively with a sparking coy smile, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

Rin tends to be rather flat with his emotions, but he can't help but gawk when you guess correctly. He supposes his reaction gives his plans away, since you burst out laughing when a choked noise comes out of his throat.

"So I'm correct?" you ask through giggles.

"How'd you know?!" Rin asks, his blush now spreading rapidly on his face, the back of his neck absolutely burning with heat. Upset that all the plans he kept repeating to himself for the entire last three days was suddenly disrupted by you picking up context clues, he feels his ego crumbling before you, going back to square one where he'd feel that familiar flutter in his chest.

"Meguru told me a week ago when we all went to that one bar," you mention. "He had a little too much to drink and ended up accidentally spilling the beans."

A vein pops on Rin's forehead with avid irritation, jaw gritting as the phantom of a familiar bob-cut throws a peace sign in his mind. This is what's bound to happen when Rin asks for help on a major life event from the one person that can't keep his mouth shut even with a gun to his temple. But Bachira was the only person in the friend group that had been married so far to who was essentially his twin flame, meaning he was ultimately the last resort.

Rin thinks that he should've just asked someone on the street instead, now that it's clear his decision went awry.

Stupid shitty, fucking lukewarm bob-cut... Rin curses in his mind, a fire burning behind his eyes. Next time I see him, I'll—

"My answer is 'yes', by the way, Rin."

Rin's violent daydreams are suddenly broken when your voice cuts through. Your sweet, supple voice that's able to calm him down just by the sound of his name falling from his lips. Your superpower, he thinks.

He suddenly loosens his fist that he was making in his hand and looks at you. Clear, smiling eyes gaze at his wide ones with affirmation so distinctly held within them. All the tension he had been feeling up until this very moment instantaneously dissolves, running through his now-loosened fist like sand from the beach you and him are posted on.

He wants to grab your face and kiss you with as much strength he can muster. Wants to whisper sweet nothings and loving promises into lips he's tasted over and over again, yet just can't get enough of. Wants to hold you so tightly in his arms to the point where you meld into each other.

But, nevertheless, he holds himself back. There's still something he has to do.

"At least let me say the damn thing first," he mutters and finally gets down on one knee, his gaze never faltering against yours.

You giggle, nodding and letting him take one of your hands as his unoccupied one goes to fetch the ring box from his back pocket.

Rin was, and still is, not a man of many words. He says what he needs to say the moment he needs to say them. He feels as though he can't waste his time on incessant words, but this time, he feels as though four words can carry all the meaning he needs to convey.

He swallows thickly, presenting a luscious, glimmering ring at you, noticing the way your eyes become hypnotized with the specialized gem settled in the middle of the band.

"(Y/N)," Rin states, smoothing over your precious ring finger. "Will you marry me?

— forever yours, shidou ryusei.

"Ryu, you're gonna get another ticket!" you yell out through the helmet as the motorcycle's speedometer's needle rapidly ticks up. Your arms wrap securely around his waist as he laughs off your concern, his grip on the handles tightening when he squeezes the throttle grip.

You know Ryusei loves to live life to its fullest—its the core of his way of living life. He's irrational and explosive, impulsive and eccentric. Anything that makes him tick is what captures his full attention.

Unfortunately for you, your complete opposite behaviors is uniquely what made him so magnetized by you. Unlike Ryusei, who tends to stand out wildly in a crowd, be it his unconventional haircut or his obnoxious thoughts that he just can't keep to himself, you're demure and quiet. You keep to yourself at all times and you think that you're quite plain-looking. You don't sport wild hair or scattered piercings, nor do you remove your filter and say what you want to say, so you don't understand how someone like you have a spotlight in Ryusei's mind.

But you do, somehow. And you don't think that he's too intent on shifting it to anyone else soon.

So now you're here. It's eleven at night with an near-empty highway before you, backpacking your boyfriend that your parents heavily disapprove of in the middle of the night because he snatched you up from your apartment and told you to follow him. He tossed you his spare helmet for his motorcycle and off you and him drove into the night.

You should've known better, you really should've, considering it was Ryusei after all that you were dealing with. He'll do anything that his mind tells him to without thinking of the consequences. You can't think of another person in the world who has little to no judgement about his actions.

"Don't worry 'bout it, dolly!" he guffaws from his helmet. He lurches forward and you squeal when the motorcycle's speed suddenly jumps. "You know I'd never hurt ya!"

You very much want to protest against his claim, considering he's forced you to tag along with extreme experiences that have put you scraping at Death's door, but every time, Ryusei always tugs you back to reality, to him. Because your his before anyone else's, even the Reaper himself.

"Where are we even going?!" you ask out loud, trying to leer over his shoulder for any sort of familiar direction. To no avail, you're only met with the empty road of the highway, only lit by the streetlights. "I have a meeting really early tomorrow!"

"Fuck your meeting!" Ryusei hollers, giving another one of those joker-like laughs. "Fuck your job in general, but fuck your meeting specifically!"

You know Ryusei's hatred for your corporate job. Blame it on him hating the mundane or how you rant to him about your trashy bosses, he keeps telling you to ditch the position over and over again, even asking you if you quit every time you bring it up. You know that it's just him trying to be a good boyfriend, but when you try to bring up the fact that the job market for your skills is trash, he only shrugs and just tells you why even bother with working. His salary as a soccer player is more than enough to cover you and him.

"That doesn't answer my question!" you shout back through the loud roaring of the motorcycle's engine. "Where are we going?!"

"You'll see! You need to trust me!" he yells from over his shoulder. You can see those rows of menacing pearly whites from the shaded visor and your stomach stirs a little. From excitement or anxiety, that was up to fate to decide. You've placed your trust in Ryusei's hands a plethora of time and you still haven't gotten a good grasp of its pattern of consequences.

You merely sigh in defeat, placing your chin on his shoulder and placing your whims at his hands, letting him take reign of your late-night journey.

From a desolate parking lot, he introduces you to a lone hill, where a wooden staircase at the bottom of it waits for you and him to carry you to the top of it. It's rather a rough journey, with you counting a total of eleven flights of stairs that you have to take up in the dead of night where you were wringed out of all the energy you had from the day. Ryusei wastes no time, leaping through the first three with no problem. He waits for you as you heave through them at your own pace, your legs already starting to turn numb.

"Took you long enough," Ryusei remarks, not even waiting for a reply from you before he begins to climb another three.

By the time you've reached the sixth flight, he's already done with all of them to your discontent. He calls for you to hurry up from atop the stairs and you flicker back a frustrated middle finger back at him, to which he only answers back with an obnoxious laugh.

"Oop, watch your step, doll," he cautions as he catches you last minute before you face-plant on the floor when you trip on your last stair, your legs shaky from the exhaustion. "What took you so long?" he asks tauntingly.

You shove him off of you, deciding it was better to lean on a tree. "Screw you..."

"Mmh, you can do that later, if you'd like," he murmurs flirtatiously in your ear, laughing viciously as you swat at him. He lets you catch your breath before tugging at your sleeve and telling you to hurry. "Your surprise is waiting, c'mon."

Leave it to Shidou Ryusei to plan something spontaneous in the dead of the night. It was unfortunately very like him to do something as erratic as this, and you just hope whatever he has in store doesn't involve you facing a near-death experience like the one time he brought you bungee-jumping straight after work.

Yawning, you nod and follow him with fatigued limbs. It takes your tired eyes a little while to adjust to what Ryusei is pointing at, but the heaviness disappears the moment you understand why he brought you here so late.

The hill somehow overviews nearly all of the city and the lights it gleams out into the night. Your breath catches itself in your throat as you take in the glorious sight of the stars in the sky and the array of lights that dance about the city's skyline. The taller skyscrapers in the background loom over the rest of the city like guardians and the cars of the cars make them look like little fairies dancing about.

It's a gorgeous view that you knew you would've never seen if it weren't for the interference in your normally-mundane life that is Shidou Ryusei.

A pair of arms goes to wrap themselves around your waist and bring you closer to a chest. Ryusei settles himself nicely in the divot between your shoulder and neck, inhaling a bit of your leftover perfume. "You like?"

You nod, eyes taking in the breathtaking view in full depth, scanning every inch that your field of vision lets you see. "Yes," you breathe.

"Good," he mutters, "Discovered this place randomly a few weeks ago after a post-celebration. I thought you might like it."

"It's gorgeous, Ryu," you warmly whisper, your heart melting a little at his consideration.

In any frontal aspect, no one would expect the Shidou Ryusei to be in a relationship, let alone be good at handling one. But after being with him for quite awhile, with your third anniversary coming up soon, you found a side to him that would be deemed almost unnatural to the unsuspecting eye. Underneath those layers of brashness, you were able to find a softer side of him, one that'd only be revealed to you and you alone.

Sure, there were times when his usual image would shine through when you were with him, most prominent when there were others around that were eyeing you ("Take a look this way and I'll bust your head in, bud!" he had shouted with a wicked smile to a passerby one time that looked at you with just the slightest bit too much of intent), but behind closed doors, a tenderness revealed itself dedicated for you.

Because in all honesty—Ryusei was a good boyfriend. Audacious and obnoxious, sure, but good. There was a reason why your relationship has lasted this long, after all. He'd come at your beck and call when you needed him most with no questions asked. He'd offer you advice whenever you complained about something, knowing that you didn't really care about sympathy. He always remembered important dates, even the miniscule ones like what date the new season of your favorite show released just so he can watch it with you.

That layer that only you got to see was the prime reason as to why you returned his affection in equal fervor.

You begin to feel his lips peppering a small path up the side of the neck, letting out a brief yelp when you feel his sharp teeth graze the lobe of your ear. You can feel him grin against your skin.

"You wanna elope with me, doll?" he asks suddenly.

Spine stiffening, you look at him from the side of your now-widened eyes. "Huh?"

"You heard me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it doesn't bother him. And it probably doesn't, knowing that he'll always have a way out eventually to get what he wants.

"I—" you start, your words suddenly knotting in your throat. "Ryu... that's a big decision."

"Well duh!" he exclaims. "That's the point! We gotta make it dramatic as possible. That's the whole fun of it."

"Are you only asking me to do this just so you can get some weird spark of adrenaline?" you ask, brows furrowing in anticipation.

Ryusei snorts. "You think that lowly of me? Hell no. I wanna marry you, for real. It's just..." For the first time since you've known him... you hear Shidou Ryusei falter. His head hunches a bit, a frown forming itself on his lips.

"Your parents will never approve of me, we both know that," he says, his grip around you tightening as though you'd slip away from him at any moment. "I'd never get their blessing."

Your eyes soften a bit as he stares intently at the view in front of you. The way his voice goes so quiet confirms the genuineness behind his words and you know what he says about your parents is true. Yes, he loves you and yes, he'll be able to provide for you, but when your parents learned about his reputation on the field as a soccer player, they exactly weren't the most pleased to know that your boyfriend was willing to start fights with whoever dared to cross him.

But... despite it all, despite all the headlines and the rumors, Shidou Ryusei was still yours. You still held him close despite all the challenges that came your way just for being at his side. It was that singular layer of himself that he'd unsheathe just for you to let you know that you mattered to him just as much as soccer did. While the questions of why were still left unanswered, since as much as you knew him, Ryusei was still an enigma to you, his actions spoke loud and true. Reckless as he was, at the end of the day, he was so, so good to you.

Sure, you could also get such loving from some plucky nobody on the street, but Ryusei's form of love was different. It was vibrant, avid with colors and explosions of life, you don't think another person could dare paint themselves in the colors of Shidou Ryusei.

You could go about your mundane life. Settle down with someone that was just as enticing as you were, have a family, keep working at your corporate job, retire peacefully...

... but truly, where was the fun in that?

You don't think you can live life in that manner after meeting Ryusei. You don't think you should.

"... are you really serious about this?" you mutter softly. "Do you really intend on marrying me?"

Ryusei cocks a brow, as if you've just asked him if the sky is blue. "No shit I do. You think all those times me screaming 'This one's for you' right before I score a goal were for nothing?"

You sigh with a smile, memories of playbacks of your boyfriend shrieking out your name on the field when the ball lands in the net running through your mind and how you had to hide your face at times in embarrassment when he pointed a painted fingernail in your direction in the VIP section.

"Do you swear you'll treat me well?" you ask as your hand finds its way to his own.

Ryusei interlocks his fingers with yours. "When have I not?"

Your heart squeezes. "And do you swear that you'll love me forever?"

You can just hear the smirk in his voice. Suddenly, he removes his hands and repositions them on your waist, your feet suddenly not being rooted to the ground anymore.

"'Till death to us part, sweetness!" he shouts, twirling you around with his strength.

You yell at him to put you down, fists going to hit his arms as he nears the edge of the fencepost. "Okay, okay, I get it! Ryu, I'll fall—Christ, Ryusei put me down! I'll marry you, just put me down!"

Eventually, he does and his laughter dies down. Suddenly, your cheeks are being squished and your lips meet his in a semi-violent manner, teeth nearly clashing as Ryusei kisses you hard and passionately.

He holds you there for a minute, tasting your lips over and over again with his before he breaks apart from you and gives you a wide grin, smirking at your flustered breathlessness.

"Call off work," he says, giving a wet kiss on your forehead. "We're going ring shopping tomorrow first thing."

— promisingly yours, michael kaiser.

"I hate you."

... is what Kaiser said to you out of the blue one day, completely unprompted. You were standing at the entrance of his apartment, some food for him in hand, your journey to travel to his abode ending on a rather oddly sour note.

Despite the fact that it was him that asked you to come over to "hang out" at his place while he was off-season, Kaiser wanted to push you away, to get you as far away from him as possible. He could no longer stand to look at your face without his gut churning and his head spinning. Similar in the way that he'd watch his opponent score a goal during a high-intensity game, something about your presence made him feel queasy, as though there were a storm brewing up inside of him.

It wasn't always this way, which was the weird part. Or perhaps, for a better wording, wasn't always this intense. You and him had been friends since childhood, after he wandered into your father's bakery with the intent to steal to survive. You had graciously given him some spare bread rolls and told him that you'll see him later, in which his return to your father's bakery had bloomed a friendship. Leave it to the neighborhood baker's kid to befriend even the oddest of children, even the one that had a scrappy jersey and bruised knees with a busted lip that would send warning signs to most children. But no, you had to come in and swoop Kaiser into your life like the saint you were.

The problem is that Kaiser didn't know how a sickening feeling like this developed. Was it when you had baked him a small cake for one of his birthdays? Or perhaps when you started showing up to his soccer games to support him? He didn't know and that's what pissed him off—that he didn't have a definite answer to when this feeling started. He let go of that irritation quickly, however, choosing to dwell on the present and future instead of the past since he knew he couldn't change it even if he did have a framework of when. It wasn't like he could go back into the past and stop this horrid feeling from being born.

It was swiftly replaced instead by an annoyance of some kind. He'd get a tugging feeling at his chest whenever you smiled at him or whenever your hands would brush against his. His head would start to spin whenever you were near him, your perfume mingling in the air. The older you and him grew, the more intense such a feeling became and it became a more avid distraction as the years passed.

Like the time you had been sick and missed out on an extremely important match that would bring him to the German World Cup. He remembers seeing the empty seat he reserved for you and how he kept looking back at it during each play. He'd score a goal in a miraculous play and would whip his head around to see if you witnessed him in such a glory, but then a frustration would stir up within him at the air that lingered in your seat. He remembers being more destructive on the field that day.

Or perhaps the time he had taken you on a trip abroad to New York, just you and him, where amidst all the sparkling billboards, one of his own sponsored by Adidas posted on the Times Tower, Kaiser's handsome face overseeing the business of Times Square. It was hard not to miss, if anything, and he got upset that you only complimented it with a mere "That's so cool!" as though the man standing right next to you wasn't the face for one of the top soccer teams in the world.

Or when poor Ness had to witness him throw a tantrum in his apartment when you texted him that you had to cancel plans since you were going on a date one evening. Plates and glassware were broken, Kaiser's nails going to rip some of the canvases of the paintings that were hung up on the wall.

"A date?! A motherfucking date?! What the hell?!" he had shouted as another plate made contact with the wall, shattering it into pieces. "(Y/N) doesn't go on dates?! What the fuck is this!"

In his fit of fury, thoughts of all kinds had raced through his mind, and Ness had to use all of his strength to make sure Kaiser didn't hunt to the poor soul that you had a date with down. Thankfully, you had called him later that night and asked to go to his place, telling him your date had stood you up.

Ness had never seen Kaiser more serene after he ended the call with you, a content smile on his face despite the destruction around him.

Either way, you made Kaiser's body weaker with just the presence of you around him. And nothing made Kaiser hate himself more than feeling weak, hating how he was reduced that small child on the kitchen counter, staring up helplessly at a monster that he was half-created from. Your very essence made his core tighten and a heat bloom all over his cheeks, something that sickened him.

So he hates you. He hates you unbelievably so much for being able to bring him to his knees so pathetically, begging for your attention and your care. A twisted sense of shame would linger to him whenever he was reminded of your existence—as though you were his kryptonite.

He thinks this is the worse it's ever been—now that you and him are fully grown adults where maturity has blossomed something within you. You look more beautiful than usual lately, Kaiser notices. You're more confident and headstrong, your wit a little quicker. An aura of radiance seems to glimmer from you and you just have this magnetic pull that attracts many people toward your direction.

In a sinister sense, Kaiser wants to keep you all to himself. Wants to keep you trapped in his hold and keep you caged so he can admire you alone, away from prying eyes that might have similar intentions. No one should deserve to have such a beauty in their life, let alone gaze upon it. He's God's chosen emperor, only he should be allowed to have such a pretty, loving thing at his side.

But he can't obviously. You wouldn't be okay with it. And as much as Kaiser takes great pleasure in seeing faces of despair and misery from those he wants to bring down, he doesn't like it when you get upset at him. Loathes it, even, when you disapprove of something he does.

He hates you for making him so vulnerable, for showing him a side of himself that he doesn't want to acknowledge.

You blink blankly at his irritated face, raising a brow at such a statement.

But you nonchalantly shrug, used to Kaiser's peculiar behavior. Surely something from earlier must've pissed him off, which is why you leapt to your feet when he essentially commanded you to come over.

"Whatever man," you sigh, shoving your way through into his apartment without a care in the world. "Tell me something new for a change."

Kaiser opens his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, and ready to tell you to piss off and get the hell out, not wanting to be around you any longer, but words dissolve on his tongue when he watches you whistle a tune and unpack the package of food you bought along the way on the kitchen island. It's an oddly domestic scene.

You hold up a plastic container, its contents making Kaiser's eye grow wider.

"Look," you cheer, opening up and holding a stick of seasoned bread crust. "Even got your favorite!"

He swallows thickly, feeling that weakness come to his knees again when you give that dazzling smile of yours. Call him a masochist, but even though Kaiser hates the way you make him feel like this, he can't help but savor it.

So he's here now. A few years later, on the rooftop of an ancient Parisian building with a white carpet before him as he stands on end of a white carpet. The other side of it, the elevator to the rooftop.

Blue rose petals that mimic the tattoo on his neck scatter the area with a flower arch stretching over the small stage he's on. The Eiffel Tower oversees the entirety of Paris, its lights glowing amidst the evening sky. The breeze is just perfect, Kaiser just hopes everything else will go according to plan as he stares intently at the elevator.

"Ness, it feels a little tight..." you mutter, trying to tug at the blindfold that covers your eyes.

"But you can't see anything, right?" Ness asks as his grip on your shoulders stays firm.

"No, but—"

"Good!" he retorts happily. "Don't worry, we've only got a few more floors to go."

Your lips warble. You feel as though this is somehow a weird murder set up Ness has planned for you, possibly waiting for the right moment to just shove you off the building while you weren't able to see. He always did happen to hold a small grudge against you, after all, since he had to practically fight for Kaiser's attention whereas you got it so naturally.

"Where's Micha?" you ask as the floors continue to ding out from inside of the elevator.

"Somewhere," Ness singsongs out, making the feeling in your gut churn.

You stay quiet, trying to think of an escape plan to get yourself out of this mess, but suddenly you hear the elevator doors shift and feel a cool breeze.

"Watch your step now," he says from behind you, lighting pushing you forward while making sure your heel didn't get caught in the little gap of the elevator and its doors. He promised that Kaiser that everything about tonight had to go right, and if he dared to mess up anything, Kaiser would have his head. So Ness, ten times more attentive than usual, gently leads you out of the elevator and onto the rooftop.

"Where are we?" you ask him, your head turning around rapidly to try and examine your surroundings despite the black blindfold. " Are we outside?"

"Leave us be, Ness," a familiar voice says.

The heavy feeling on your chest suddenly lifts, letting you breathe a little easier now that you know that your life has been spared from Ness's hands. Kaiser's voice, though it may bring impending doom to many, somehow had the ability to ease you and your worries.

Ness goes to unravel the blindfold from your eyes, letting the warm glow of the many candles before you light up your field of vision. He leaves promptly, going back down the elevator and leaving you alone with the blurry figure some meters before you. Your vision clears eventually, and the scene unfurls before you much more vividly.

There stands Kaiser at the end of a magnificent carpet that tells you to come his way, dressed in a dark blue button up and black slacks with matching dress shoes. Ever the handsome fellow, you softly smile at him as you walk slowly down the carpet, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was good to make you wear white for tonight, Kaiser thinks to himself as he gets hypnotized by the way your dress flows behind you. This almost feels like practice to what's to come.

"This doesn't look like a dinner," you say softly as you take Kaiser's hand to help you up the platform.

"No, but it's something much better," he replies, a tightness in his voice that he tries to hide. "I hope."

"You hope?" you repeat, brow raising.

"It's all going to depend on you, so don't ruin it for the both of us," Kaiser grumbles before you snort out a laugh.

Getting a hint of what's to come, you allow him to take your hand and watch as he gets down on one knee before you.

Kaiser strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and kissing it softly, all the while gazing at you.

"You're the only person that's able to bring me to my knees, you know that?" he professes quietly.

You can feel a hitch in your throat when you nod, a heat forming on your cheeks.

Kaiser pauses for a bit before continuing. "I hate you. You know."

"Yes," you sigh gently, thinking about all the times that Kaiser spewed out the words whenever he got annoyed with you. "You make it very aware."

He chuckles, and you can't help but laugh as well.

"But I hate you for a good reason. You make me weak, you make my head spin with every action you do, with every word you say," continues Kaiser eventually. "You know me better than I know myself. And I don't know whether it's been in each other's lives for so long or... or if I just get so vulnerable around you."

You bite your lip in apprehension, trying to regulate your breathing as the words just flow from Kaiser's lips as he pulls out a white ring box from his pocket.

"I want to feel that way around you forever, even if it might kill me," Kaiser declares. He slowly opens the ring box to reveal a handcrafted ring that glimmers with a large sapphire gem in the middle whose blue hue reminds you of someone all the familiar. "I want you to keep making me feel so stupidly small, to keep putting me in my place when I need it. And I want to relish in it forever, just as long as its you. I want you all to myself, because only you, (Y/N) (L/N), can do this to me."

"Micha," you choke out his nickname with a voice just slightly above a whisper. The way he looks at you so dearly makes you want to burst into tears. You don't think anyone else has ever looked in your direction is such an adoring way.

Kaiser takes a deep breath, his nerves easing themselves to a balance as he swallows his concern away, letting himself linger in the moment.

"Will you marry me?" he asks you tenderly.

He thinks that the tears that cascade down your perfect face gives him all the answer he needs, but his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when you whisper back,

"... yes."

a/n ; ITS DONE !!!! oooohhh i'm so tired asdfllksadfk my ass hurts from all the sitting

but hi if you've made it this far! im thinking of making a part two to this with a couple of more characters, but wow i will not lie this took some life out of me lolol but regardless! thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always noticed and appreciated (っ´ω`c)♡ !!

[imsofreakingtired]

your fics are ✨️✨️✨️ ! So.. a fluff one of comforting Sevika on her period, you know she's in pain, but she refuses to tell that, but you find her in the fetal position almost crying of cramps on the bed

hope u doing well ! xoxo

- 🧸

oh my god thank you sm for giving me the chance to take care of our sevi 😭🙏 i'm honestly dying on my period rn so this req was perfect 💙

and i'll make a cup of coffee

content warning(s): none, fluff and hurt/comfort...soft sevika <33

don't stay awake for too long don't go to bed i'll make a cup of coffee for your head i'll get you up and going out of bed

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

This is the thing about Sevika: she will rather subject herself to torture than admit that, like many other human beings on this tired green planet cursed with a uterus they have no use for, she gets period cramps. 

You’d think anyone else blessed with a wife as caring and gentle as you would melt willingly into their arms, milk the pain of their period for all it’s worth. You’re certain Sevika knows that you’d fly off at the drop of a hat to get her anything she needed if she just gave the word. Chocolate, tea, a hot water bottle, hell, an oversized teddy bear. But no. Not this woman. It’s like she considers the limitations of her body a personal challenge from mother nature. 

So you’ve grown attuned to the smallest signs.

“You got your period, didn’t you?” you say. 

Sevika looks at you, grey eyes widened in surprise. “No.” 

The morning is overcast, the sky promises rain; you see the clouds gathering outside the kitchen window. 

“Liar.” You pour the boiling water over the coffee grounds, breathing in the aroma of the dark blend. “I can see it plainly.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You move out the filter, reach for the jar of sugar. “You feeling okay? Maybe you should take off work today.” 

“I’m fine,” she grunts. 

Fine, my ass. She had been irritable and sluggish all week. Every time she snapped at you peevishly, or grumbled she was too tired for sex, you’d mentally marked down the days until she finally got her period. The woman’s cycle was like clockwork. 

“You’re due for a day off anyway. You haven’t used any of your sick days.” 

“I can’t take off,” she says shortly. “There’s a meeting I can’t miss today.” As she takes the mug you hold out to her, you see a wince cross her face, and she bends over slightly so the coffee sloshes around in the cup. 

“I saw that, missy,” you tell her. 

She snorts at the pet name. “You saw nothing.” 

She leaves the coffee on the counter and walks out of the kitchen. 

You assume she went to change, but when some ten minutes go by without any sound from her, you grow suspicious. 

“Vika?” You call. “You headed to work or what?” 

No answer. 

“Vika?” 

You go into the bedroom, where you see her clothes strewn out on the dresser, as if she got as far as choosing them and laying them out, then gave up at the stage of putting them on. Sevika herself is curled up at the edge of the bed, still in her shorts and tank top. For a second, you feel a flash of panic. 

“Fuck. Sevika. What’s wrong?” You’re at her side in a heartbeat, brushing her hair out of her eyes, feeling her forehead. “Are you sick? Where does it hurt?” 

She pulls her head away from you and you notice now that she’s clutching her abdomen. Burying her face into the pillows, she says in a muffled voice, “it’s not…usually this bad.” 

Then it dawns on you. “Cramps?”

She lets out a defeated groan. 

“Poor baby,” you murmur, rubbing her back. “What do you need? I’ll get you a hot water bottle.” 

“No,” she says into the pillow. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay, just…give me a second.”

You sigh impatiently. “You’re on the verge of tears, you think you can fool me with that?” 

“I’m not.” She tries to straighten out her body to prove her point, but gives up and pulls you closer to her by the waist instead.

“What—” 

Even bent double from cramps, Sevika has the physical strength to pull you down into a sitting position onto the bed beside her. Before long you understand what she wants you to do. 

Shaking your head, you lie down with your back to her and let her spoon you with her warm body. She hums in contentment against your shoulder. 

“This is better than a shitty water bottle,” Sevika mumbles. 

“I’m assuming you’re taking the day off, then?” 

“’Slong as you don’t get up.”

“I’m always here, Vika,” you promise, kissing her forearm. “You know that.” 

The rain patters gently against the window as Sevika’s breathing slows and she drifts off to sleep, holding you tightly. In the kitchen, the coffee grows cold. It's alright, you think.

You can always make her another cup.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

notes: ugh i just want to take care of her the world is sick and mean :(

[comicaurora]

Hey, firstly I just wanted to say I’ve been consuming your content for years and thank you and Blue for being the only thing that kept my academic brain from turning to mush during online COVID middle school!

But I’m entering a new academic era, notably Junior year of my very rigorous collage prep program at my high school. I’ve always thought I would go to collage after high school but I’ve recently stumbled into some very interesting ways of making a living only perusing my creative passions (some very scary publishing opportunities). So I’ve been wondering if I actually want to go to collage or not, since going to collage just to be a published writer is an objective waste of money and I don’t want to spend the rest of high school breaking my neck earning collage credits I’m not going to use.

So I was wondering, if you had known you could make a living only perusing your creative passions, would you have spent the time, money and academic energy going to collage for something you didn’t end up doing professionally?

(I would ask my advisor but he’s too obviously pro collage and doesn’t have any experience making a living creatively).

(Sorry for the long ask)

No problem about the long ask! This is a very good question!

I'll start with the short answer, which is that nobody can make this decision but you, and if you decide not to go to college right now, that does not mean you are deciding to never go to college. Especially with Covid, plenty of people are taking gap years, and plenty of full-on adults go to college later in life, simply because the mood strikes them, or they now have income to burn, or they're interested in a career change, etc. This is not a coinflip that will decide the trajectory of the rest of your life.

For the longer answer, for me personally? Knowing I'd be able to earn a living doing art would have no bearing on my decision to go to college. Setting aside that a ton of the literary analysis my job is based on is skills I learned in college, I liked college because it gave me the opportunity to learn a wide swath of things, from anthropology courses to dinosaur science. I like learning new things! College was an opportunity to learn a ton of new things, and even if it was very challenging in places, I thrived in it. I didn't go to college with the goal of becoming qualified for a Real Job - because of who I am as a person I think I'd seriously struggle at most Real Jobs, and I knew that even back then. I was in college to learn, and to learn how to learn. I got my degree in mathematics, a thing I do not use in my Job, but the functionality of mathematics - to logically reason through problems, step by step, comparing it to known problems to map the way to solutions using operations that preserve truth - is an invaluable skill that I apply everywhere there are problems to solve, especially literary analysis. I learned a wide swath of tools with surprising applications, and I couldn't have known when I started how I might use them in the end.

However, there's a big caveat there. This was my personal experience of college as a playground where I could work towards a solid major and also branch out to take weird one-off electives and summer courses when anything struck my fancy. But I was in on a scholarship to cover a good chunk of my tuition, and one of my relatives very kindly paid for the rest. I got to do college without accruing any college debt, and that is an enormous factor. I can only share my personal take, but I'm not going to pretend that things would have been the same if I'd had to enter adulthood finding a way to quickly pay off a six-figure sum.

I've been extremely lucky to get to the point where I can navigate life in a way where money is very rarely something I need to worry about. It was certainly not always like that, and I do not miss those times, but it invariably shapes the way I see the world and the steps I took to get here. For me personally, I do not consider college in any way a waste of time; I think the opportunity to learn is one of the most exciting things out there. But my experience cannot be pretended to be universal.

This decision is yours, and it is also not final. Whatever choice you make, you can always choose again later. You have time.

[witherby]

Sooooooo excited for a SickBed Part 2 for Mouse!!!! also i’m literally obsessed with your writing - i check for updates on any of ur series like all the time!! 💞💞

That's so sweet to hear! Have something considerably less sweet! Chef's been craving some serious angst for days 😈

The Littlest Wayne: Sick Bed, part 2

Part one is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ Content warning: Young sick child, descriptions of a seizure, descriptions of a hospital environment ⚠️

You're transported to the hospital after receiving several doses of anti-seizure medication for monitoring and tests. Unless he'd wanted to risk giving away their secret identities, Bruce has to act like he doesn't have access to an entire medical bay in the cave under his house, and lets them take you. Hal gets in the back of the ambulance and Bruce remains behind with his sons, shuffling tiredly into the kitchen and looking like the world is on his shoulders. It's rare that he wears his exhaustion so brazenly.

"They're stable," he announces to the room. Several pairs of shoulders un-tense, and Alfred offers him a mug of hot chocolate. His fingers curl around the handle, but he settles for cradling it while staring down into the liquid. "You can all go back to bed."

"Fuck off," Jason says, "you think any of us can go back to sleep after that?"

"Language," Alfred gently chides. "Master Bruce is right. There is little else we can do for the evening. Our young Flittermouse is in good hands, and Master Harold will alert us to any significant changes, if there are any."

"And Dick," Tim says. He's drained his cup. Bruce gives Tim his, and he takes it to keep his hands busy. "He texted me back. He's gonna meet Hal at Gotham Central."

"Thank you for telling him," Bruce says. He turns to Damian, who hasn't looked away from his own cup. "Damian? How are you fairing?"

"Fine," he says too quickly. He grimaces and tries again. "I am just fine. Merely surprised the illness turned this bad."

Surprised is the understatement of the century. You're alive, you're in good hands, but he can't get the image of you foaming out the mouth and jerking uncontrollably out of his mind. He can't stop hearing you choking and gasping for oxygen. He can't stop thinking about how you might be dead right now if he hadn't listened to his gut and checked on you.

You might be dead right now if he hadn't checked on you. Surrounded by a family of vigilantes who had been none the wiser.

"I want to go to the hospital," he says suddenly. "I know you won't permit me to drive, so someone else needs to take me there. Now, preferably."

Bruce rests a hand on Damian's shoulder. "You did your part, son. You got help and they're gonna be okay. You don't have to —"

"I'm sorry," Damian says, "I don't know why I phrased it like a request. I need to get to the hospital, so I can either be driven there or find my own way."

There's silence for a minute. Damian sits still while wordless conversation is exchanged with everyone else at the table. For a brief moment, he feels like the baby of the family again.

He almost would have reclaimed that title if he hadn't found you —

A hairline crack appears in his mug. He stands from his seat and Bruce's grip on his shoulder briefly gets tighter.

"I'll take you," Bruce says. "Pack a Go Bag and meet me in the driveway in ten minutes."

"I'll be there in four," Damian replies, heading off. He fetches a change of clothes, his sketchbook, a phone charger, and swings by your room to grab the plush bat you sleep with in your bed.

--

Dick is sitting in a stiff plastic chair in the emergency room lobby, dressed in a thick hoodie, sweats, and a baseball cap to avoid getting any excessive attention at three in the morning. He won't stop chewing on his thumbnail when Damian walks in and kicks his leg.

"Report," he demands.

"Hello to you, too, baby bird," Dick mumbles. He tips his head up just enough to be able to make eye contact under the lip of his hat.

"I'm growing very tired of repeating myself in this family," Damian hisses. Dick sits up fully at that and sighs.

"They stopped seizing," he explains. "Haven't woken up yet, so they're in an observation room getting some blood drawn and being prepped for an MRI. Only one family member's allowed back at a time, so Hal is with them."

"Tell him to switch me places," Damian demands. "I don't have his number."

"You're gonna put it in your contacts after this," Dick says. A statement, not a question. Damian nods solemnly. "Good. I'll text him."

Damian sinks into the chair beside Dick and sets his bag on the ground, digging out his cellphone. He takes a peek at the group chat he's in with his brothers, scrolling through more recent messages talking about your upcoming birthday, and whether or not you're turning old enough to get a cellphone of your own. Bruce insists a seven-year-old will not need one, but everyone has been collaborating on a PowerPoint presentation to show Bruce all the points in favor of it.

All of Dick's points have just been "I can ask for selfies any time," and all of Jason's have just been "I'll finally have a reason to use my own if I can call Mousey whenever I want," so it's largely been Damian and Tim coming up with points that might actually sway Bruce.

He scrolls further back in the chat history in lieu of anything else to do, stopping to look at any pictures each brother has exchanged. A new book series Jason took interest in. An article about high tension wires Tim shared. Lots and lots of selfies from Dick. God, his eldest brother's picture should be in the dictionary next to Vanity. An article featuring Dick on the cover of Vanity Fair.

He's about to close out of the chat when he spots a picture Jason sent about two weeks ago of you. You're outside in the Manor gardens and clearly asleep in a patch of sunflowers, likely having worn yourself out playing. The sky in the background is clear for once, and the sun is just starting to set, which means the flowers are starting to turn to the next brightest source of light.

They're all facing you.

The framing is impeccable. It's a beautifully-captured, candid moment, likely taken seconds before Jason descended and woke you up with a surprise tickle ambush, as he tends to do when he finds any sibling napping somewhere, the bastard.

Damian makes it his lock screen, then pockets his phone and waits there in silence with his brother.

--

You're sleeping when Damian finally gets to see you again. Hal relented to switching places with him, knowing he would find his way to you regardless of his answer, so he didn't put up any fight.

He stands quietly in the observation room the entire two hours it takes to run all your scans, then follows the nurses as you're wheeled into a room and hooked up to some fluids and a heart rate monitor. They tell him that you're not likely to wake for at least a few more hours, but he's adamant that he's to stay at your side.

When he's alone, he snags your charts and looks them over, using his limited medical knowledge to glean as much as he can from the report. As far as he can tell your brain is fine, which is the biggest relief, but he's still going to grab a nurse and make them explain the parts he doesn't understand to him so that he can get the whole picture.

Damian digs your bat plushy out of his bag and gingerly tucks it under one of your arms. Your skin is pale and clammy when he makes contact with it, and he scowls.

"If you get any worse, I'll be livid," he tells your unconscious body. "Stop scaring your family. It's unbecoming of a Wayne."

You, understandably, don't respond. Damian watches your chest move smoothly up and down, watches the monitor display your heart rate, but he still keeps a hand around your wrist to track himself. The tangible proof of life helps settle the deep anxiety in his chest.

"I mean it," he mutters, "if you develop some kind of complication, or seize again, or d —"

He grits his teeth and shoves away the surge of panic that threatens to overwhelm him. Breathes slowly and deeply. Moves his hand from your wrist to lace your fingers together with his, squeezing tightly.

"The thought should never have crossed my mind. You simply have to get better," he says, factual. "You don't have a choice, even if I have to give up my mantle to...hnn."

Damian falls silent as he looks at you. An idea forms in his mind, blooming quickly. Roots take shape and travel down his spine, until they find a home in his chest and curl around his heart. He's hit with a wave of certainty he's never felt before in his life.

He messages the group chat with his brothers, sending a singular text, then digs out his sketchbook and a pen with one hand while he continues to hold onto yours.

Damian to All: I want to go to medical school.

--

You awaken with a massive headache. It's bright and hot and you're terribly dizzy. You're confused, knowing you went to sleep last night in your large, dark bedroom, with silky sheets and your stuffy, but now you're lying in a tiny cot with one scratchy sheet and being blinded by the overhead light.

"Daddy," you try to call out, but your throat is hoarse and you start coughing. It feels like you've swallowed a box of knives. Something squeezes your hand and you feel a palm against your forehead. "D-...D..."

"You're safe. Breathe as slowly as you can. I'm going to sit the bed up."

The voice is familiar. You squint blearily in the light and can just barely make out your brother's face.

"D-Dami?" You croak, wheezing for breath.

"Yes, Flit, it's me," he says. Once you're more or less upright, he briefly leans across you. "Pardon the reach. I'm going to put a cup of water in your free hand. Drink it very slowly."

You fumble with the cup. Damian helps you hold it, and you take small sips. It doesn't soothe the stinging in your throat, but he looks so uncharacteristically worried for you that you just keep drinking the water until it's empty.

"How do you feel?" He asks.

"Bad," you mumble. "Where are we?"

"Gotham Central Hospital." Damian puts the empty cup aside and sits down in the chair next to your bed. He still hasn't let go of your hand. "Your illness took a bad turn, and you had a seizure last night. Doctors brought you here to make you better."

"Oh. Am I better now?"

"Not yet." Damian grabs the clipboard with your information on it and glances over it again. "We know that you have severe viral pneumonia, but it's not lobar or interstitial like I thought. I suspect your seizure isn't part of the original problem, just a manifestation...of...um."

Damian stops talking when he notices your confusion. You scrunch your nose and give him a helpless frown.

"I don't know what that means," you say softly. You look absolutely devastated. "Am I gonna die?"

Damian's heart leaps into his throat. He squeezes your hand almost painfully tight and stands from his chair, leaning over you with wide eyes. The green in his irises almost seem to flash, like Jason's when he's extremely angry.

"No," he says fiercely, saying your name with a shakiness you've never heard before. "You will not die. I won't let it come to that."

You stare back at him, sniffling.

"Promise?"

"I promise. I swear it."

You relax a little. "Okay. I trust you, Dami."

Your brother's face does a strange twist. It looks like his eyes start to get shiny, but he leans down and rests his head against your shoulder before you can really find out. He smells like home, instead of the weird, chemically-clean scent of the hospital room, which is comforting.

His arms come around you in a gentle hug. You lift your hands and reciprocate as best as you can, limbs feeling like jelly. It's nice. Damian doesn't hug you very often, so you do your best to savor it. When he pulls away, his expression is carefully neutral and closed off again. He sits back down and resumes holding your hand.

"Father and Timothy are in the waiting room, if you'd like to see them," he says, checking his phone. His notifications have been flooded with questions from his brothers (and demands for pictures from Dick, for some reason. You're sick, not posing for a photoshoot). He brings up his dial pad, ready to call whomever you want.

"Yeah," you nod, desperate for comfort from more of your family. You don't like the bright hospital room. You hope having more people around will make it less eerie.

Damian rings Bruce without fanfare and tells him your room number, then hangs up again. He goes to stand, about to leave the room, but you tighten your grip on his hand before he can slip away.

"Stay?" You ask quietly.

He sits back down instantly, brows raised. You don't spend much time with Damian, considerably less than you do with your other brothers, but he seems taken aback by you seeming to enjoy his company just as much as the others'.

"Yes," he says, voice whisper-soft, "I'll stay with you."

You give him a tired smile. Then your ears start ringing and your vision whites out. The last thing you hear before losing consciousness is Damian's frantic cry of your name.

[satanxklaus]

♥︎ 𝐛𝐨𝐲'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 | oscar piastri x singer!reader smau

✦ pairing : oscar piastri x singer!reader | ex!pierre gasly x reader ✦ summary : in which y/n soft launces her relationship with an F1 driver, fails miserably, and ends up hard launching with a lyric from her breakup song ✦ content warning : profanity, use of y/n, hate towards y/n ✦ faceclaim : pinkpantheress, girlies from pinterest, pairings on pinterest

a/n: hey guys. it's been 6 months since i last posted (yikes) im so sorry about that. i've been busy with working at the hospital and uni to top it all of. so here's a new one, its quite a long one. lmk what u think. enjoy! xx

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

y/ninstagram ✔

liked by lando, lilymhe, icespice, oscarpiastri and 563,420 more.

y/ninstagram ✔boys a liar pt.2 out now neowwww on youtube with the one n only @/icespice 😍💋

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icespice ✔ princess treatment onlyyy grr rahh 💅🏼

user13 mama an ice spice behind YOU 💜

lilymhe ✔ song of the year!! love it xx

⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ love u babes muachhh 😘

user12 was not expecting this collab at all omg

lando ✔ oi mate quite the music video 🔥🔥 liked by author

⤷ user17 ariana what are you doing here

user14 literally the worst collab ever. imagine your whole personality being about your ex. embarrassing 🤮🤮

⤷ user20 imagine ruining your own relationship and then getting mad when the person profits off of it. embarrassing 2x

user15 i'd literally kms if i fumbled a bad bitch like y/n😭😭 she's so cunt love her sm

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y/ninstagram posted a story

replies to your story

user25 ⤷ OMG two lando post ??? ur not even hiding it girl 😏

⤷ lando ✔ so nice to have a fan at the paddock 🥰 ⤷ y/instagram ✔ wow fame changed you. suprised your head could fit into that ugly green helmet 🙄🙄 ⤷ lando ✔ leave my beautiful helmet alone u witch!!

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⤷ lilymhe ✔ girl .... ⤷ lilymhe ✔ not the papaya i'm expecting ⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ i stg he's my childhood bestfriend 😭that's so gross dont even try ⤷ lilymhe ✔ OH so what you're saying is oscar piastri has a chance 😬🧐 ⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ 🤫

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user48 ⤷ get away from himmmm

user9 ⤷ homie hopper 🤢🤢

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y/ninstagram ✔

liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, and 742,270 more.

y/ninstagram ✔ one day, i just wanna hear you say, "i like you" 💗💘

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user20 mother is serving face at the paddock

user15 BODY IS TEA

user19 oscar in the likes,, pierre being messy again 👀👀

lando ✔ thx for the support babes 🧡

⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ log off for me ur so annoying ⤷ user10 bro bagged a baddie idk if i wanna be lando or y/n😭😭 ⤷ user27 are they dating?

user15 NOT PIERRE LIKING THIS PLS BE SERIOUS

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oscarpiastri posted a story

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user81 ⤷ PAUSE who is that

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⤷ y/instagram ✔ OH so you're getting right into it huh ⤷ oscarpiastri ✔ i'm a man of my word, babe ⤷ y/instagram ✔ cheeky 😘

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⤷ lando ✔ damn you're fast, fast ⤷ oscarpiastri ✔ you're the one that gave me her number, mate

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user22 ⤷ oscar "private piastri" finally giving us crumbs??? HISTORIC

user11 ⤷ i have a feeling this is y/n.....🤔

user76 ⤷ if this isn't y/n, i'll eat my mclaren merch

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y/ninstagram posted a story

replies to your story

⤷ lilymhe ✔ bitch you are NOT slick 🤣🤣 ⤷ lilymhe ✔ ok miss "just instagram likes" ⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ omg kys 😭😫 ⤷ lilymhe ✔ just hard launch already. everybodyyy knows ⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ log awffff

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⤷ oscarpiastri ✔ i'm not getting that hoodie back, am i? 😌 ⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ what do u mean ?? it's literally mine ⤷ oscarpiastri ✔ haha what's mine is yours, darling 🧡

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user16 ⤷ SOFT LAUNCH?? girl we know thats oscar 😭😭

user11 ⤷ that hoodie is a big giveaway queen... but issokay love that for u

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y/ninstagram ✔

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe, lando and 1,376,092 more.

y/ninstagram ✔ i'm obsessed with you in the way i can't believe 💗😍

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lando ✔ LMAO finally

⤷ user22 lando is living for the drama, i just know it ⤷ user15 so... wrong papaya then 💀

user15 oscarpiastri in the likes.. bro didn't even try to play it cool 💀💀💀

user19 not even a soft launch at this point 😭 this is a full press release

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oscarpiastri ✔

liked by y/ninstagram, lando, logansargeant, lilymhe, and 2,768,320 more.

oscarpiastri ✔ Not a liar 🏎🧡

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mclaren ✔ your honor i love them so much 🧡🥺

lando ✔ I'M FREE !! about damn time 😔😔

y/ninstagram ✔ took you long enough, piastri. love you <3 💋🧡

user55 this boy is not a liar, alright periodd

user33 oscar piastri, i owe you an apology, i wasn't familiar with your game🤩

lilymhe ✔ STREAM BOY'S A LIAR PT.2 FOR CLEAR SKIN AND HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP. CLAIM NOW!!

⤷ y/ninstagram ✔ I LUV U GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL xx 💋 ⤷ lilymhe ✔ ugh im on my knees for u plsss ⤷ oscarpiastri ✔ thats funny cuz she's my gf ??? @/alex_albon come and get your girl please ⤷ alex_albon ✔ i need a vacation...

user16 THREW MY FOOD JUST TO GIVE YOU A STANDING OVATION 👏👏👏

user10 nooo a white man got to herr 😭😭

user37 imagine pierre seeing this rn. must be SICK to his stomach

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⚠ 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 ⚠ : 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

© satanxklaus 2025. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, or repost any work as your own.

[buubonita]

This is too messy but no worries i will try to explain the connections and I ADDED the "its complicated" label because i can and relationships can be and are soooo pretty complicated sometimes and your perspective of that person can always change like the weather,, or in fact, they have a dynamic that is difficult for me to explain personally.

Lets start nyao! oh boy this is LONG.

Nightmare & Dream: its complicated. They have mixed feelings all the time, there are times when they genuinely can't stand each other, but their family love remains intact, only sometimes, living together is difficult. I dont think Nightmare hates Dream genuinely, just for moments, and i am speaking more from someone who haves a twin.

I'm not saying that the situation is the same because my brother and I are not at war, lol, I'm saying that disagreeing and fighting with the person with whom you have shared memories and time since the cradle is a constant.

Dream & Blue & Ink: Found Family & friends. I just like to think that they, rather than a poly like fans insist, function more like an imperfect but still functioning family.

Dream & Ink: Friends/It's complicated. Dream and Ink have mainly disenchanted ideals, but they can coexist without resentment. I think they care about each other.

Ink & Error: enemies/frenemies. Self-explanatory.

Error, Geno & Fresh: family found. I love to think that the three of them have an inexplicable connection, something rooted in their codes. I know that Fresh is an outcode, but the body they posses, I like to think that it is a variant of Aftertale Sans (not Geno, the other Sans) <3

Blue, Sans & Fell: I love the idea my besties proposed that there are TWO Underswap Sans in the multiverse (Blueberry belongs to the Stars and Swap makes up the Sans and Fell group). They are good friends and super hilarious together <33

Reaper & Geno: Secret 3rd thing. I wont explain it here tho.

Fatal Error & Error: they hate each other to death.

Fresh and Lust: Secret 3rd option! I like to think that they actually get along really well. They go to disco nights together on Saturday nights fr.

Horror, Dust & Fell: besties. They can be besties okay, i loveeee the idea of Horror and Fell getting along with Dust as their main bond, point in common. If Fell could help Dust, he maybe could help Horror <33

Killer & Color: besties and QRP. I dont have much to say that someone hasn't already said , they are cute! Super adorable as well :3

Killer, Dust and Horror: Frienemies, its complicated. Their relationship It is quite turbulent and there are moments of horrible tension between them, the atmosphere in which they meet is not very good and does not help either, but they are companions in misfortune who try to move forward. I like to think that I could improve with the help of Color (who I forgot to put in the circle but the board already looks terrible!!!) Anyways MTT + Color is defo my thing <33

Dust & Reaper: Acquaintances. Reaper has seen Dust a lot during his endless encounters with The Player. He keeps tempting him to shake his hand like a new friend, hehe <33

Nightmare & Killer: Its complicated, enemies & secret 3rd thing. I've said it before, Killer and Nightmare's relationship is so weird, at least from my perspective, it has so much potential, so many nuances to explore that it's hard to classify what the hell they are. They don't even know what they are or what they have, they think they know each other but there are always details that escape them. Do they hate each other? Maybe. Do they need each other? Who knows. It's weird. They're fucking weird. And I love it, because Nightmare and Killer don't have the same dynamic or personal history that Nightmare and Horror and Dust do. One of my faves.

Color & Nightmare: Enemies. Its complicated. Rahhhh i have been CRAVING more Nightmare and Color content focused, how troubled Nigtjmare actions can be for Color and how it goes against his morals. Id say Color hates him, not totally, but definitely Nightmare "makes it very difficult to be able to help him" and thats a common point he haves with Dream.

Nightmare & Ccino: its complicated, secret 3rd thing aaand enemies. Ccino hates Nightmare for so many reasons, but the main one is the most wrong and absurd: he abandoned him.

Eldritch entity and totally tired mortal quth mundane life have a connection incomprehensible to the established parameters of society or regulations. My favorite.

Ccino @ everyone: is on the image but i think Ccino would know everyone at least because his café is a multiversal meeting point.

Epic & Cross: besties & QRP. They are so lovey, so cute, so beautiful, i love what they have so much.

Cross & Dream: Secret 3rd thing <33 they are very good friends and... :3c

Epic & Nightmare: Enemies & Acquaintances. Epic only knows about Nightmare through word of mouth, but he doesn't like what little he knows. I think he's secretly very resentful towards people who hurt the ones he loves (Cross, Color).

Epic & Dream: Acquaintances. I like to think that Dream is the only one who has seen Epic lose/destroy his body to the point where only his cursed eye remains intact. Something about out-of-body experiences he has suffered since he is a being of light residing in a vessel.

But in general, Epic does not interact and stays away from the apple twins because of their empathic abilities (an apple a day keeps the doctor...).

And thats it. I have a lot of other ideas that I left out the chart but imma write here hheehehe.

Like the fact that Dust and Epic could be friends (and their relationship is a bit rocky because Epic seems to treat Dust like a patient kjj and how that brings problems, as if Epic wanted to fix something of his own by helping and supporting him in his vocation as a doctor, yadda yadda)

Oooor like, fucking Reaper and the twins. Reaper seeing some of the contempt and rejection he himself suffers in his own universe??? That ALMOST inspires some pity, but I'd say it's more towards poor passive/past Nightmare than anything else.

Reaper and Dream should and are friends. I like the idea that Dream is one of the few who laughs at Reaper's shitty jokes (besides Geno) and feels bad about it because of his dark humor.

Nightmare hates Reaper becaaause, what a redundancy, what he personifies and not what he is and that is what prevents Reaper from feeling sorry for Nightmare despite having gone through similar but not at all identical situations <33

Or maybe Color and The Stars (or Color and Dream specially, please, yes?)

Prolly i am forgetting things but whatever this is long enough, i hope the artist doesn't minds ;;0;;

Again this is, like everything i say, my opinion <3

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[dekariosclan]

We all know a romanced Gale would disregard any and all local ordinances when devising the grandest declarations of love for Tav a former archmage can conjure, but I'd like to propose something similar but different:

Gale Defending His Love Against The Local HOA

Many of the Tavs Gale brings home to Waterdeep have dedicated their lives to pursuits that would almost certainly result in sternly worded letters from disgruntled neighbors. Gardens ruined by a wildshaped druid Tav. A totally coincidental increase in petty theft after a rogue Tav moves in. A bard Tav who discovers their true calling is mastering the bagpipes.

How would Gale respond to such complaints? I mean, obviously he'd defend Tav to the death, but it's how he'd utterly destroy them via the written word that interests me. I'm imagining responses like,

"The 'intolerable racket' - as you so rudely refer to it - is merely my love performing their morning drills. In fact, I rather prefer their raging bellows to accompany the rising sun over that cacophonous blight you call a rooster, Mildred. Yes, I know it's you. Do not presume to hide behind anonymity when I'm quite familiar with your handwriting by now."

I'm not the best at writing in Gale's voice, so I wanted to toss it over to a master to have fun with as you please - provided it pleases you at all, of course.

(If you're thinking this is a poorly disguised excuse to ask for more spicy Gale content, you would be 100% correct)

😂 Anon, if there’s anything I can believe would exist in both our world AND Faerun, it’s a shared hatred of HOA’s. What do you MEAN it’s against neighborhood policy to raise an Owlbear cub as a pet?!? Seriously?!

I greatly enjoyed your wonderful (and well-written!) scenario, but I do have one minor change: In my mind, any HOA complaints Gale would receive would not be due to everyday things such as battle training or rogues being rogues (because I assume Gale would use magic to keep the noise down, and rogue Tav mentions in the epilogue that they enjoy perusing the sketchier parts of Waterdeep, etc, etc.)

Rather, I think the complaints might be in regards to the…spicy Gale content you mentioned 😇

And Gale, of course, would have a few things to say about that:

P.S. Don’t worry Anon, Gale won’t really let any innocent chickens be harmed, no matter how disappointed Tara is

[merrinla]

More finds in the cut content. What's interesting is that this is post-game content. I don't know if these are pieces of DLC or an extended epilogue. Rook and Lucanis drink wine in a gondola. In one version, Lucanis refused to be First Talon and left the crows. The Viper arrives to Treviso to hire Lucanis to kill the local Venatori. The lines in the localization file are out of order. I've organized them as best I could, but I'm not sure if everything is correct.

The gondola scene

Rook: What are we celebrating? Revenge? Saving the world? Lucanis: How about a quiet moment? Rook: Is it quiet? Really? Lucanis: If it's not quiet, it's at least clear.

Option: If only the Antaam were gone. Rook: Treviso's beautiful. Too bad it's filled with Antaam.

Option: You're surprisingly romantic. Rook: Who knew you were a romantic? Lucanis: You bring it out in me. Rook: Yeah, yeah. I'm a bad influence.

Option: Let's not go back. Rook: Let's stay here forever. Lucanis: A little. Not forever.

Rook: What? No fancy glasses? Lucanis: That's Caterina's style. I'm more pragmatic. Lucanis: Well, more pragmatic than her anyway.

Option: Learn from your elders. Rook: There's nothing wrong with a bit of class. Lucanis: (Chuckles) I'll remember for next time. Rook: Oh yes. This is so pragmatic. Lucanis: I know.

Option: Casual's better. Rook: Less clean up. Rook: That's why we're having drinks in a gondola instead of the kitchen. Lucanis: Knew you'd understand.

Lucanis: Is it wrong? Enjoying ourselves while the Antaam terrorize our home... (Crow Origin) Lucanis: Is it wrong? Enjoying ourselves while the Antaam terrorize Antiva... Rook: Does it feel wrong?

(apparently Rook moved, causing the boat to rock.) Lucanis: Careful. Gondolas are more fashionable than they are stable. Rook: They're plenty sturdy. Rook: See. Nothing to— Rook: Oops? Lucanis: You were saying? Rook: Sorry. Lucanis: (Chuckles) Classic Rook. Rook: I've made things awkward. Lucanis: I like this side of you. Lucanis: More wine? Rook: I saved the wine? Lucanis: (Laughs)

(Talon's version) Rook: How are you settling in as First Talon? Lucanis: There was some initial... friction with Caterina, but she got over it. Lucanis: She thought I'd do things her way and was surprised when I had my own ideas. Rook: Really? You'd think she'd be the most welcoming. Lucanis: No.

Rook: Have you spoken to Caterina or the others? Lucanis: Letters here and there. We haven't met since the party. Lucanis: I don't want to cut ties. Lucanis: But Caterina needs to get used to the fact that I'm no longer her heir. Rook: Are you used to it? Lucanis: I was never comfortable with the role to begin with. Rook: So, no regrets? Lucanis: (Sigh) Rook: It's a yes or no question, Lucanis. Lucanis: It's not. You've enough experience with regret to know that.

Rook: I respect your decision to walk away. Lucanis: It wasn't an easy decision. Lucanis: It was hard. Walking away. Rook: It was hard watching it. Lucanis: Let's not talk about me.

Rook: It's not an interrogation if you care. Lucanis: Why not? I've been thoroughly interrogated. Rook: (Snorts) Is that how it works?

Option: Your priorities have changed. Rook: You've changed your tune. Lucanis: I am. On what's important.

Lucanis: Rook. I owe you. For my life, my freedom.

Option: Consider it paid in full. Rook: That debt was paid when you helped us defeat the elven gods. Lucanis: No. That was a job. What you've done for me...

Option: I needed a mage killer. Rook: I had selfish reasons. Lucanis: Rook. I'm serious. Lucanis: Whatever your reasons...

Lucanis: The Venatori killed the man I was. Lucanis: You put the fight—the life—back into me. Rook: I... Thanks.

Lucanis: If you need someone taken care of... Just say the word. Lucanis: Your enemies are House Dellamorte's enemies. (Talon's line) Lucanis: Your enemies are my enemies.

Option: You make murder sound sweet. Rook: Awww. That's sweet. And scary. Lucanis: Of course those are the same thing to you. Rook: I was only teasing. Lucanis: How am I supposed to argue when you say things like that?

Option: I'll settle for friendship. Rook: Or we could just be friends? No killing required. Rook: I still care about you—as a friend. Lucanis: Didn't want you to get the wrong idea... Lucanis: We're still friends. Lucanis: If that's what you want... Rook: Appreciate it.

(non romance/friendship version?) Rook: Oh, I'm aware. Just haven't figured out what I want in return. Lucanis: (Chuckles) Lucanis: For a price. Rook: And you'll charge me... Lucanis: Like I said—a fair rate. (Talon's line) Lucanis: I'm not a Crow anymore. Rates are negotiable. Rook: Still sounds pretty Crow-y to me.

Rook: It's passed sundown. Lucanis: (Sighs) Rook: Time to go? Lucanis: I've business before we return. Rook: What kind of business? Lucanis: Competitive analysis.

Lucanis: Don't worry. I'll collect. Rook: Fun time over? Lucanis: I've business before we return. Rook: What kind of business? Lucanis: Competitive analysis.

Possibly lines from a subsequent quest.

Rook: Business at a Chantry. Not very Andrastian of you. Lucanis: What in our experience together makes you think I'm a good Andrastian? Rook: (Chuckles) Fair enough.

Rook: You sound like you have a plan. Lucanis: Always another mark. Rook: I take it the Antaam are the subject of this so-called analysis? Rook: Why do I get the feeling there's going to be less "analysis" and more stabby-stab? Lucanis: Keeps Wrath content. (Wrath is Spite's previous name?)

Lucanis: Viago said it'd be a fitting spot. Rook: You've proven it's a good spot for an ambush. Rook: And you're loud. Which do you think will attract the Antaam?

Meeting with Ashur. It seems as if Lucanis and the Viper were discussing their business, and then Rook came.

The Viper: If you don't trust my intel— Lucanis: I trust your intel and... Lucanis: Fortunate the Rook is here to save the day. Rook: The Rook can detect sarcasm!

Option: Ashur, you shouldn't be here. Rook: This isn't Minrathous. Rook: Ashur, if the Antaam find out you're here... The Viper: I've paid the right people so that they don't.

Option: You two make quite the pair. Rook: The Viper and the Demon. Sounds like a nursery rhyme to scare children.

The Viper: I was just leaving. Rook: Leaving so soon? Rook: You don't have to. Lucanis and I could show you the sights. Rook: There's wine tasting, Antaam assassinating, gambling— Lucanis: Rook. The Viper: You're ruining Rook's fun. Rook: Think about my offer.

The Viper: Should I pay now or— Lucanis: Just go.

Rook: What did he want? Lucanis: Some of us have work to do. Lucanis: It's about time I take care of things at home.

Rook: Who's the mark? Lucanis: Venatori who fled Minrathous after Elgar'nan's fall. Rook: That's why Ashur was here. Lucanis: He's the one who hired me to dismantle the Venatori in the first place. Lucanis: Might as well finish the job.

The most unclear part. Maybe it's related to the quest to kill the Venatori that Viper pointed out.

Rook: Can't take the huge door. Lucanis: The Venatori are inside. Strike from above and we'll take them by surprise. Rook: Above, eh? Rook: Good thing I'm not afraid of heights.

Rook: Not sure why Antivans even build doors. Rook: We never use them. (Crow Origin) Rook: You never use them. Lucanis: We're the Antivan-fucking-Crows.

Rook: We need to be cautious. Rook: If we're not careful, he'll kill the girl. Lucanis: Not if he's dead.

Lucanis: Focus on the self-important bastard. I'll take care of the rest. Rook: They're all self-important—and why do you get so many? Lucanis: Their predictability makes them easy targets.

Venatori: Two, four, six piggies come to slaughter. Venatori: Be grateful. Your meager existence will serve a higher cause. Rook: I'll show you a higher cause right up your— Venatori: (Grunts!) Venatori: Uh—God killer! Right he— Lucanis: Mage killer. Venatori: (Yells in pain) Rook: Lucanis! That's cheating! Lucanis!

Lucanis: Fucking Venatori. Rook: (Sigh) You can take the blood mages out of Minrathous, but…

[bugixxxbunny]

Toji Fushiguro X reader

Description: Reader is fresh out high school starting her first year of college, she goes to spend her afternoon with her tutor and has a run in with his father and has a change in profession and gets tutored in two new subjects~ ♥

Content Warning: Messy, rough blowjob, spanking, swearing, and violence.

Word count: 11,580

You wondered how you got here, thinking back to what put you in this predicament. It was your first year in community college; you had barely skimmed through high school. This was your fresh start. Say goodbye to shitty grades, and to hell with peaking in high school; this was your peak! Now your counselor had set you up with a tutor, seeing you didn't do well on. And his name was Megumi, you knocked on the rundown apartment door; the whole complex reeked of mildew, and then a shout was heard behind the door: "Megumi! Get the door!" You assumed it had to be your tutor's roommate. You waited patiently, but nothing happened. You let a few more seconds go by before knocking again, and a loud sigh followed by an "Oh, quit it! I'm coming!" It was gruff and annoyed sounding; the door flew open, revealing a tall 6'2 man. He had black hair that dangled. In front of his eyes, a few grey hairs sprouting on top, he wore baggy sweats that hung low, exposing his v-line; he opted for no shirt, letting his abs be adorned by your eyes. Are you Megumi Fushiguro? You question looking up at his face like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You watch the scar on his lip crinkle to the smirk forming on his lip. "Nahh, but you can come in." You followed the attractive man inside. Are you his roommate by chance? you squeak the large man flopped down onto the worn-down couch. He didn't respond; instead, he yelled, "HEY BRAT, SOME CHICK IS HERE FOR YOU!" You grimace at the use of "chick"—this man was old. A younger boy came from the hall looking just like the man that was laid up on the couch, his hair messy. "Huh, you're here already? Our session starts in 30. Don't you think you're a bit early?" The boy was your age; his voice shows his disinterest. Oh well, I thought it would be better if I came earlier! You said, not really knowing why you had left your apartment so early, "Okay, well, that's fine. Just follow me," Megumi says, but before you both could get into his room, the older man shouts, "Keep it down! I don't want to hear you going at it like rabbits!!" As Megumi shuts the door, your face flushes a rosy pink. "Ignore him; he doesn't know I'm tutoring you." Megumi says, sitting on the floor, pulling out his textbooks from his backpack, um, who is that? You replied, sitting beside him. "That's my dad," he mumbled the last part. I see... you and Megumi began studying; your personalities really clicked, and after your two hours of tutoring, you too had actually wasted time speaking to one another. So, about your dad... you asked, trying to reopen the topic of the dark-haired boy's father. "He is single," he said, cutting you off. Wow, Megumi, no one asked that you roll your eyes even if it was in the back of your head, as I was going to say, why do you still live with him? You said this whole time trying to rack the reason why in your head. Megumi then speaks up, "cheaper." You sigh, sitting with your knees to your chest. You're really a man of few words. Megumi offered you a shrug and then continued on about how you reminded him of his friend Yuji. You let your mind wander to the older man; you wanted to get one more good look, and then you came up with a plan. Hey, Megumi? You intruded, "Hm?" Could I go get a glass of water? You asked sweetly. "Sure, get a snack for me if you don't mind," You sighed and stood up, dusting off your skirt before walking to the kitchen. It was easy to get around this apartment; it was quite small. Once you re-entered the conjoined kitchen and living room, you began searching for the cups in the cabinets. After your search ended, you turned on the heel of your foot and were met with the tall man who was Megumi's father, and you stumbled back. Ah! When you open your eyes, you're on the floor. You look back up, and Megumi's father. Oh, sorry, Megumi's dad, you startled me! You said panic was rising at the way he stared down at you. "Don't call me that, tsk." He mumbles, "Toji kid, didn't the brat tell you, my name?

Part two and three will be linked below! I'm so sorry this stupid word count got the best of me! if you have any ways to help me with that much appreciated!!

-Bunny ♥

[fairytwles]

GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE FIRST TWO EPISODES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏

OK OK, I HAVE A LOT

kinda out of order and all over the place but SEASON THREE EP 1 AND 2 THOUGHTS:

THE TAG SCENE IN EPISODE ONE QUICKLY MADE ITS WAY UP TO ONE OF MY FAVORITE SEQUENCES OF THE SHOW (LOTTIE SEEING LAURA LEES GHOST IN THE MALL STILL AT #1 THO)

the scene right after that where everyone is just having a good time is so cutesy and i adored it, it was so nice to see them all so happy because i knew they're gonna get into some fuck shit this season

speaking of cutesy, AKILAHHHHHH

MY GIRL IS RASING BUNNIES???? AND DUCKS???? UGH

the beef between mari and shauna this season is so fucking funny

I'm overall liking mari a lot more this season too (though it is only the first two episodes so that could change)

"get off of me gaywad!" ok prophet mari

ADULT TAIVAN MY BELOVEDS OMG IM SO GLAD WE'RE GETTING CONTENT

callie and adult shauna my beloved's

LOTTIE FUCKING MATTHEWS!!! SHE HAS DONE NO WRONG EVER IN THE WORLD OF THE WORLDS

she is my baby, my beloved, my pookie, my princess (both teen and adult lottie)

nat looking hot as ever, serving face in the wilderness like its no ones business

three jackie mentions, I'm simply winning

one of those jackie mentions being in an interaction with nat??? jackienat truthers win once again

speaking of nat, her funeral scene made me so :( natalies mom when i fucking catch you

natalie liking swings when she was younger MADE ME SOB FOR SOME REASON

she was just a little girl :((

also nats mugshot had me oh lalaing the entire time

"keep going mar I'll make it two weeks!" made me lol, like ok mom

the thing they had for jackie, javi and wilderness baby :((

also that fucking screaching noise??? what the fuck was that??

natalie, van, gen, and tai having a fucking HOA meeting was hilarious bc yeah, what the hell sure

cutting to coach ben right after natalie said he's def dead was silly

COACH BEN FINDING T H E PIT??? (we're pretty sure)

i need to know rn what else dead cabin guy hid in those woods bc damn they coulda used that shit awhile ago

adult misty made me :((( the entire time

HER SEEING GHOST NAT AT THE BAR?? GOD

HER WEARING NATS JACKET??? SMELLING IT AND SLEEPING WITH IT??? GETTING NATS DRINK INSTEAD OF HER OWN??? FUCK

the scene where she just fucking breaks down in walters arms because of nat.... her saying she LOVES HER??? basically mistynat confirmation for me

i feel so bad for her

adult taivan restaurant dine and dash was so silly

except for the part where u know... the waiter fucking died???

he didn't have to be doing all of that though, no way he gets paid enough to chase after people

rip the waiter tho i guess

man with no eyes appearance!!! i honestly forgot abt him

ADULT LOTTIE MATTHEWS SILLIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD

she has done no wrong,

the scenes of her, misty, and callie were one of my favs

i haven't stopped thinking about her in that fucking panda face mask

speaking of callie, mf girlboss, i always believed in you girl

the guts thing?? iconic

out mistying misty herself?? incredible!! who knew it could be done!

ALSO THE ACTRESS WHO PLAYS CALLIE IS 30?!?! FUCKING CRAZY

adult shauna and jeff at the restaurant with those hotel guys

her calling them out for being nepo babies LMAO adult shauna ily

the bathroom scene was crazy

at first i for sure thought we were getting ghost jackie, but like a different scene from the trailer bc shauna wasn't wearing the same outfit

but then after the phone thing i knew it prob had to do with hillary swank

adult shauna funniest character in the show its true

MARI FALLING INTO THE PIT???

THAT REVEAL HAD ME GAGGED

SAME WITH BEN TIEING MARI UP I WASNT EXPECTING THAT

the whole mari and ben subplot was so silly to me

both of them hobbling away 😭

ben practically put mari on a child leash and that will never not be funny to me

the hot chocolate scene??? eerily similar to jackie's dream sequence 🤔

ben going fucking crazy in the background, god mari is screwed i fear

SHAUNAHAT CANON??

I SCREAMED WHEN THAT SCENE CAME ON

LIKE ACTUAL FR SCREAMED

THE ENTIRE TWO EPISODES LEFT MY MIND THE ONLY THING LEFT WAS THOSE FUCKING LESBIANS

I DIDN'T EXPECT SHAUNAHAT TO BE REAL

melissa kissing shauna when she had a knife to her throat was so real, girl would do anything for some lez activity

now with that knowledge i def think hillary swank is adult melissa

cause like?? the cuts between adult shauna trying to figure out who left the phone and young shauna and melissa making out??

it was def melissa who left that phone

im still kinda weary about hillary swank being adult melissa because of the scene in the trailer where she said "wow you guys are really fucking crazy" cause why would melissa say that??

it would have to be someone who wasn't there

so i think melissas sister is prob hillary swank BUT, this episode made me much more confident

plus that imdb thing said hillary swank is melissa but i think I'll have to see it first

ANYWAY I THINK THATS ALL MY THOUGHTS

IF I FORGOT SOMETHING ILL ADD ONTO IT

[inkieflame]

how's lizzie dealing with her new situation in your lab au? what's she doing in her freetime, whos she friends with, anyone she avoids, etc?

(no pressure btw)

Content warning: implied repeated SA

Lizzie spends her "good days" pretending that she's still home, indulging in a delusion. She mostly hangs out with Joel and Jimmy, or she sits in the Practice Room doing various activities (The Practice Room is a space where subjects can exercise their various skills to make sure they don't get worse from underuse. They have things like workout equipment, cooking equipment, artisan equipment, and computers) She has memory problems, and has introduced herself to subjects several times in one day before. The only people she seems to remember are people that she knew before she came to the lab (Joel and Jimmy were the closest to her, but she also knew Scott and Oli)

On the "bad days" she's more self aware. She lays around in Joel's bed, or clings to him. She talks about how much she missed him while he was gone. She talks about how she wants to go home. She misses Meri. She's sorry she let the Watchers take her wedding ring (it was taken from her forcefully. She didn't have a choice)

Lizzie is not often rented out, but when she is, she tends to be very compliant. The Watchers have sometimes bribed her with permission to redye her hair, and that's enough to get her to do almost anything.

Her favorite renter is a man in a city about an hour away who likes the way she paints. He is in charge of keeping uptown clean and pretty, and he has her paint these massive murals across buildings and walls. These murals take several days to do, and he buys a hotel room for a week. According to the Watcher's policy, none of the subjects can be left alone for extended periods of time, so he stays in the room with her. Every few months he will rent her again and have her paint something new. Lizzie spends those weeks painting outside, and it's enjoyable. It's an escape. The Watchers can taste the dread on her when she eventually has to return.

But not everyone is that nice.

Some people take her to hotel rooms for other reasons. She has no wedding ring and she's too small to fight back. What can she do?

When she comes back to the facility, crying, Joel takes her silently to his room, red rage for the Watchers burning in his eyes. He lays helps her on his bed, and he works her into a clean new change of clothes. He gets an ice pack from the kitchen, presses it carefully against the red marks on her neck and chest. Eventually they subside.

She clings to his shirt, sobbing apologies, as though any of this was her fault.

She calls it cheating.

Joel calls it assault.

Gem is no stranger to comforting Lizzie. She's been in that place too. Not everyone is kind, she knows first hand.

"It's not your fault. You couldn't have stopped it. You didn't deserve it." She repeats as she soothes Lizzie. She is reminding both of them.

(oh, it seems I've word-vomited all over my post, oops. I didn't mean for it to be this long, but honestly I've been thinking about this for a while. Hey, are you the anon that asked for the Lizzie angst? Don't worry, I'm working on it lol. Just writing a oneshot about Martyn and Scott first, then I'll do some Lizzie/Joel angst)

[ciricearts]

Hi again, same anon who sent you the proship statement, just want to add that I really admire you and don't want you to think that I'm trying to belittle you or say how you should think with what I said but it saddens and worries me with how fandoms are becoming very purist and unaccepting of everything bcs this has a such a wide impact on fandom culture and free speech pls research that and be more open-minded. Set boundaries ofc but don't just think that every proship person in the same way bcs everyone is different, also sorry if my English is slightly poor, not my native language. Sending kudos to you, in love with how you draw Jason❤️ he's my fav character.

Don't worry, I'm just not in favor of it and I don't think my point of view will change. I have had quite a few negative experiences with these types of people, and I would not want people who enjoy pairing characters, even fictional ones, on topics that include p3dophilia, inc3st, abus3, or other topics, to interact with me. and I'm sorry, but I think that what you like, even if it is fiction, really shows something about you and your morals, I will never like an incestuous relationship because I find it disgusting even if it is fiction because of how my brain interprets it.

I don't know what experiences you have had, but mine was interacting with people who literally consume P3DOPHILIA, Z00PHILIA, 1NC3ST, S3XUAL AND 3MOTIONAL ABUS3, among other things, it is not a matter for those who are morally superior, but I just want to set my limits, and I insist a lot on it because even so, proship people do not respect my limits, so I have no choice but to speak clearly about it.

I will not risk this type of experience again just to try to understand this type of mentality that I do not agree with.

People who know me know that I am very open-minded on these topics as long as they have to do with consent.

It's not about being mature, it's about setting limits and making my point of view clear from the above.

I am not looking to change your point of view, I simply want to emphasize mine, you are free to stop consuming my content if that is your opinion.

[cherryvampiro]

i feel annoying asking but im curious to know more about your cotc future au, especially characters you havent talked about much

You're not annoying!! It makes me so happy to hear y'all be curious of one my many aus for series I love ❤️🫂🩷 I do apologized for the lack of cotc content (I'm still so focus on Goof verse/the comic)

Here's both an idea and old scribble I had made for Jason! (19) :

I imagine him leaving for collage out town as soon as he's able to. Making the big step to cut off his Father & Step Mother from his life. Like to think with his new found freedom he'd be more open to try new things he was never allowed to do. A big help in his new world experience/happiness/love would be his collage gf who I name Yomo (Yoru-mo). I don't have a set Adult/Next Gen design for him yet but he would for sure move back to Herkleton after his first kid is born.

Then here some more old scribbled from last summer. JP & Omar are still a work in progress on how I want them to look as dads & I did redesign Sonya to be smaller since since she's supposed to be 3 (Also gave her a new set of clothes so she can be her own person instead of a copy of one parent 💛)

For Maney I hc as a cancer survivor & is in the process of regrowing her hair. This hc isn't made with the intention of random angst but more so in the thought of these kind of life changing experiences just happen to some families. 🌻

Thank your being curious about these funny future creek kid ideas!! I promise to get back to them 🌈🌷🫶🏽🫂🌻

[procksecutor]

Klavier tilted his head as he leaned against Kristoph, no doubt seeking that familial contact, as may such cases. He supposed he was still overjoyed by how all this is real. Even if it's all just a dream, this strange comfort was something he'd never want to wake up from. He kept an eye on Kristoph's actions, wanting to observe how he handled the fish and such.

Even to Klavier, it all felt so nostalgic. Like nothing ever changed. It was...Nice. It made him content - this is how things always should have been. Yet life happens, and before consciousness struck this life was torn to shreds.

"A story?" He pondered, thinking back to the things he could tell Kristoph. There was so much he wanted to say, to tell Kristoph about so he's up to date. After all, it has been so many years, it's natural things accumulated. He could tell Kristoph so much - yet he thinks he must hold back, not wanting to risk overwhelming him. And so, Klavier decided it'd be best to get arguably the most life changing event for him out of the way, career wise that is.

"Oh - you'll find this interesting, I'm sure. I almost got torched during a concert. Obviously I'm fine - can't say the same for my poor guitar though..." A fake sniffle to follow that up, but it was heartbreaking such a treasures gift was demoted to firewood.

"She's been through it! She was a gift too, so I can't just throw her. It's important you know it was one bad thing after another! My keys were stolen, my hog wouldn't start, worst of all a cue was missed. Ach..." Klavier dramatically put the back of his hand against his forehead, as if adding a dramatic flair to his already dramatic words, "Oh but then a murder had to happen! As if that day couldn't get worse, the worst thing imaginable happened!"

Klavier pouted, wrapping his arms around the older man's arm. He looked up at him with puppy-like eyes, yet his brows furrowed to show his displeasure as he thought back to it. Naturally - that day was tragic for more than one reason. It was one of those days where he felt like he needed Kristoph. But he couldn't talk to Kristoph, so navigating his emotions was tricky. But looking back, he does think he did a decent job on his own, even if every time he was in silence, the silence felt too loud.

"And I'm sure you wouldn't believe who did it. I know I didn't believe it at first, and yet I accepted it without complaint, because when I really thought about it, he would do that."

Klavier wouldn't elaborate though. He wanted to make Kristoph curious, as if telling this very real event as if it was a work of fiction. And honestly, a part of Klavier can't help but think it sounds fictitious! It was so crazy, so much happened and Klavier was sure he had got a severely bad headache from it! He was just thankful no greys sprouted.

Tomatoes, onions and- a head...? Klavier had rarely ever heard of cabbages referred to as a head. Usually, it's accompanied by the phrase of cabbage. A head of cabbage. He looked at Kristoph, raising a confused brow. Because that's what he was - he didn't think twice about it, didn't think about any other implications. The wording simply was confusing...And slightly worrying. Maybe he was overthinking, maybe his brain is making falsehoods up, but he's so certain that it was a worrying phrasing.

He edged closer to Kristoph, leaning in slightly, as a curious pet would. Was he feeling okay? Did he have to sit down a while? Klavier wondered if he should pull out a chair for Kristoph to sit in, just in case. But then he managed to speak, and suddenly everything was fine. Almost everything. There were still thoughts on how he could help the older, somehow.

"Ach-" Klavier shook his head slightly, "Alright...But if you need to sit down, please do. I was worried for you."

He didn't want Kristoph to overwork himself. Not now, not ever. He thinks all this might be just too much for the older Gavin. It's like being deprived of sight and suddenly you can see again - that things should be taken at a good pace. He pulled out a chair, just in case. It was a silent gesture, mainly. At least if one excludes what he said. But it was good to emphasize his point, plus helpful! He doesn't let Kristoph bother with the extra pulling out of the chair. Saves him time. Klavier soon got to work with the tomatoes, cutting them with a decent thickness. He was told to start with the tomatoes, so he will start with them. He'd rather work in the order Kristoph gave. He kept his eyes on the movement on the knife, making sure not to cut his fingertips.

"Can't have you passing out, or something." Klavier soon spoke lightly, forcing a grin as he attempted to lighten the mood. It felt like it needed to lightened, "Otherwise, what would they think? They'd think I'm not fit enough to look after you if I can't stop you from passing out. Right...? I don't know how it works, but I know I'd feel awful if I let you pass out on my watch."

[kopivie]

came to the realization that i'm actually... really pretty.

i don't think i'll ever know what people see when they look at me. that's just a fact of life, i guess; you can control how you present yourself to others, but not how they perceive you. that fact caused me to hide away from myself for almost a decade, practically to the point where i couldn't recognize myself in the mirror. as in, i'm familiar with my face – i'm aware that the face staring back at me is my own – but i'm not sure if i'm seeing the right thing... what that "right thing" was supposed to be, i have no idea.

i would go to lengths to make sure i was pretty by my own fucked up standards, but after hearing people describe me, i started doing things for the sake of others and not myself. i tried so hard to maintain their positive image of me that i legitimately couldn't look myself in the eyes without feeling like a fucking fraud.

because for the longest time, i believed that i was lying to people somehow. if you thought i was softspoken, i would disagree; my friends and family think i'm pretty loud. if you thought i was graceful, i would disagree; i bump into anything and everything, i have the worst butterfingers, and i'm as stiff as a board. if you thought i was pretty, i would vehemently deny that; who would see beauty in my bloated body? my fluctuating weight, my hormonal acne, my uncooperative curls. where is the beauty in that?

but just the other day, whilst i was looking at myself in the mirror, my head emptied itself to make room for a single thought:

i'm really, really pretty.

for the first time in my life, i thought i was pretty as i was. there were no filters, no hastily applied eye makeup... nothing. no comparison to my friends, no sizing myself up against the "ideal" black woman... just me and my tired eyes, my oddly shaped, day-old twist out 'fro, and my oversized stitch pajama pants.

i'm not perfect. my dark eyebrows are sisters, not twins; my under-eye area is insanely dark; my eyelashes aren't as long and prominent as they used to be; my hair is always flat somewhere, my tummy is constantly bloated, i look better with my glasses on, and i'm covered head to toe in hair that i'm not entirely proud of...

...but i'm me. i'm me, and for the first time ever, i'm so proud of that. i can look at my imperfections and think of ways to gently fix it instead of hurt myself in the process of trying to conceal it. i'm going to the gym tomorrow and making plans to buy lashes to start my makeup journey – not as a means to hide my insecurities, but to make myself feel beautiful on my own terms.

(side note: i posted a video rambling about this on my instagram story last night. i had said something along the lines of "i don't know what other people are seeing that i can't see, but i know that i finally love what i do see."

and violet, in all his infinite wisdom, replied to my story in under five minutes saying: "that's why you wear glasses."

i told him that it's on sight when i see him again, his reply was: "oh really? would you even be able to see me?"

...why did i have to fall in love with a man? i can't stand his ass 😭)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)