#it was probably one of the worst thing I've ever written. but at least it was original

[myrmecomorphisme]

Im glad hbomberguy's plagiarism video came out after I finished my master because my biggest fear every time I had to write an essay was to accidentally plagiarise someone and I just know this video would've reinforced that fear

[tetsumie]

Love your writings so so much!!! Pretty please can i ask for angsty to fluff sunarin to heal my broken heart

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

pairing: suna rintaro x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: suna's been playing the argument the both of you had on repeat in his head and he decides it's time that he proves to you that he wants to make this work

a/n: hi bby <3 ofc i can write angsty/fluffy sunarin i hope u like it and this could meet your expectations! i hope that this helps mend your broken heart love u always and if you ever need anything i'm always here to talk <3

suna is staring at the ceiling in his apartment.

his vision shifts towards the bright red numbers "3:07" glaring at him menacingly.

he shifts his body to turn away from the clock as he coddles a pillow next to him, holding it as if it's the most precious thing he has.

i destroyed the most precious thing in my life. the overthinking demons begin to plague his conscience.

he wonders what you're doing right now. he hopes that you're asleep but he knows you're probably cramming last minute for that midterm you have for your class tomorrow.

he sighs.

he opens his phone and presses your contact, thumb hovering over the call button.

he just wants to hear your voice. at least once.

ah, fuck it.

his finger presses the call button and it begins to ring. and ring. and ring. and ring. and ring.

he's beginning to lose hope as the ring continues to go on until he hears his favorite sound in the world.

"rin?"

rin.

"hello? rin?"

he clears his throat, realizing he's just been lying there, not speaking a word.

"hi baby."

"what's wrong? why are you up? don't you have pract-" you start questioning him.

"don't worry about it hun. it's all good," he sighs into the phone. "just wanted to hear your voice right now."

you hum in response.

the hurtful words he said to you a couple nights ago are playing on loop in his mind and he's unsure of what to say now.

"did you need something rin?" you begin. "you don't usually call me.. voluntarily."

he knows he doesn't. he's always been the nonchalant one in the relationship, always waiting for you to make the first move. you've always been the one to suggest going out or planning a night in. he became so used to you always being there. he never thought you wouldn't be there anymore.

you were never supposed to get out of the picture.

"i really miss you."

you're silent.

"i know you don't believe me but i really miss you."

suna knows you're having a tough time believing him. every time you would try to bring up how you wish he'd put in just a bit more effort, he always brushed it off. but when you had brought up again for the nth time a couple days ago, asking if he could at least plan something for just the two of you, he gave out on you.

"i don't have the time for this shit. i have a professional career i'm working towards and i don't have the extra time to get distracted."

he remembers the words like they were written on the back of his hand. god, he can't forget the way your beautiful features etched into a look of pure heartbreak.

god, he can't that look out of his head.

but the worst thing plaguing his mind was your response.

"rin, i just want you to act like you at least care about me. i feel like you don't care about us anymore."

god, if he could express into words how much he deeply cares for you, your relationship, and everything that has to do with you. he wants you wholeheartedly but he can't seem to express that properly.

"right," your voice is curt. sharp. it cuts like a blade into him.

he gulps.

you're hurting and he can feel it from miles away.

and the silent treatment that you've been giving one another has not been helping to heal that pain ever since that horrid dispute.

"i realized how shitty of a boyfriend i've been to you."

you're silent, waiting for him to continue.

"you wanted me to reciprocate the time and effort you put into making this relationship work and i didn't do that. it was the least i could have done; you're right."

"rin i-" he interrupts you.

he's sitting up now in his bed, staring out the window of his bedroom.

"no, wait please let me finish."

you're silent and he takes it as his cue.

"the fact that you felt like i never cared about you — about us — this entire time truly shows how much of a shitty person i've been to you and to our relationship. i'm supposed to be the one there for you yet i never was. your absence in my life for the past couple days has affected me in ways that i don't even know could be possible"

he continues although he hears what could've been a sniffle.

"i don't know how else to put it into words but i miss you so bad, y/n. you don't have to forgive me — i wouldn't blame you — but i just want you to know that if you don't want to do this anymore with me, i understand. i'll love you no matter what your decision is."

"you love me?" your voice comes to life on the other end of the line completely caught off guard.

oh my god.

he smiles to himself as he stares at the vast dark room in front of him. "yes i love you. i always have."

"from the moment you walked into the sports psychology lecture late to the time you spilled coffee all over my brand new jersey to the time you had your sickly chicken pox. i've loved you ever since and i won't let you go."

you're silently digesting the information that he threw at you all in one sitting.

it's dead silent and suna is nervous. he wants to know what you're thinking, how you look like right now, how you're feeling.

he really wants to see you right now. to be there with you right now.

the overthinking demons begin to make their entrance in his mind as he begins to speak. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done this over the phone. i should've done this in person. i'm just too nervous to even say a word because what i want to say gets lost and then-"

"rin," you stop him before he can continue his ramble.

"yes?"

"i love you too."

oh my god.

his heart is beating out of his chest and he's stuck. his mouth is slightly agape, stunned by your confession. after everything he's done with you, you still love him?

"are you sure?" he asks to confirm.

"why are you literally trying to deny my confession to you right now?" you give a watery chuckle which he can instantly hear through.

"i don't deserve you," he states and he feels his eyes water a little bit.

"yeah you don't," you laugh in hopes of lightening the mood but the laugh dies down in your throat.

a comfortable silence holds between the two of you.

"i'm sorry for keeping you up so late. please get some rest-" he begins but is this time interrupted by you.

"can you come over?" your small voice interrupts. "obviously if it's not a bother... i just want to, um, see you right now. if that's okay."

his heart beats faster.

"are you sure?"

"yes please," you sound so frail. "please come over rin. i really need you right now."

"i'm there, baby."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[myuminji]

Just a comic about two people catching up again [Angel AU]

[ID: A Trigun comic of Wolfwood after his death in Trigun Maximum.

Abbreviated ID: Wolfwood is now an angel with wings and a halo tied to his grave. He cannot be seen or heard by others, but Livio visited his grave and mostly filled him in on the finale, and Wolfwood waits for Vash to show up. When he does, Wolfwood is stunned and worried by his black hair, though he deems Vash fine when he pulls out drinks for them both.

Vash pours the drinks and talks. He confesses that he killed someone and calls himself a coward and the worst, apologizing for being selfish and not saving Wolfwood. Wolfwood angrily shouts that everything was his decision, and Vash is an idiot for blaming himself.

He says that Vash has done so much for Wolfwood and for others, and he calls Vash brave. Vash falls asleep with tears in his eyes, but he seems lighter when he wakes up. Vash leaves, promising to return, and Wolfwood says that he'll "watch him from afar... again." The title is "#1 'What happened to your hair?'". Full ID below readmore in 21 paragraphs.

The comic starts with a dark, noise-filter panel of the Punisher being used as Wolfwood's gravestone, with the quote "Nicholas D. Wolfwood has died" written over it.

Below that is Wolfwood, who has wings and a halo. He sits pensively and narrates, "At least, that's what everyone has come to believe, including me. Yet here I am, still roaming on this damn barren planet... But I wouldn't say I'm quite alive anymore. Since I couldn't feel hunger or thirst like I used to." He thinks, "'Ghost,' like those horror stories was it?"

He narrates over sketchy panels of himself frowning while floating next to his grave and yelling at Livio. "There, are other things I found that fits the term, like how I can't bring myself to far too far from my grave, or how others can't see me at all." We see Livio tearing up and saying "Nico-nii..." while Wolfwood furiously waves his arms and shouts, "I am!! Here!!!!"

Livio is shown speaking with a teary smile while Wolfwood leans against Punisher and listens. Wolfwood says, "Livio is the first and only person I've met so far. And luckily, he was quite a storyteller. I was able to get a grasp of the situation, and its aftermath. And what happened to him in the end."

Livio smiles and says, "It's been three months ever since... But even if we couldn't get ahold of him now, I'm sure he'll come back to you someday." Wolfwood narrates, "—And knowing that idiot, he probably would."

A close-up of Vash's coat in the wind as Wolfwood narrates, "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when he visited my grave. I'd even thought up of things to say when we meet again. Everything was thrown out of the window when he appears, of course. I could vividly remember the one question that burns in my head..."

Wolfwood looks shocked as Vash, hair fully black, waves cheerfully, "Yo! It's been a while, hasn't it? Wolfwood." Below the two floats the question: "#1 'What happened to your hair?'"

Wolfwood sweats, "Spikey, your hair. Doesn't it mean... Are you okay???" Vash smiles sheepishly, "Ah, I hope you're not mad I didn't come sooner, don't haunt me please..." Wolfwood shouts, "That's not the problem right now!!" Vash pulls something out and exclaims, "But look what I got for you!! Alcohol!!!" Wolfwood shouts, "What sort of person do you see me as!?"

Vash excitedly pulls out a bottle and two shot glasses. "It's not the only reason why I'm late, but it did took me a month to hunt this down... I recall you said you wanted to try them, right?" Wolfwood buries his face in his hands and says, "Where the hell are your priorities... You know what, yeah. I'm not gonna ask anymore since you look fine."

Vash smiles a bit tiredly and says, "Hmm,, I'm glad this place hasn't turn to ruins yet~ I've still got lots I need to tell you that's happened out there! And I thought it's better to talk about it with drinks on the side…" He clinks two glasses together. "So, cheers! ..."

He and Wolfwood are both awkwardly silent, and Vash sweats and frowns nervously. Then he pours a glass onto the ground, and Wolfwood furiously shouts, "D'ya really expect me to drink off the ground!? Stupid needle noggin!!!!!"

Vash laughs sheepishly, and he speaks via empty speech bubbles while Wolfwood listens, drinking with a small smile. Vash says, "... And when that happened I..." He drops his gaze and says between long pauses, "I..... When that happened......" Wolfwood watches him seriously as he says, "... Say. Wolfwood, is this how you've felt all the time?"

Vash looks down sadly. "You I see, I... killed someone in the end." He laughs, eyebrows drawn in. "I guess you're right. I am bound to choose someday." He takes another sip, then downs it and falls backwards. "Isn't it funny? That I've called you a coward once for killing... But guess who's the coward now~? It's always been me, isn't it?"

Vash lies on his back and laughs. "... Haha. I wonder if you're laughing too. I really am the worst, aren't I?" Wolfwood looks down as Vash continues, "You've done so much for me, but all I've caused you are troubles. I was selfish, always chasing after my own goals... That you couldn't ask for my help. That I couldn't save you. Just what kind of friend am I?"

Vash scrubs his eyes with an arm and says shakily, "Sorry... Wolfwood... I'm so sorry..." A close-up panel of his mouth shows Wolfwood saying, "... Just so you know--" Expression unimpressed, he exclaims, "There's no way in hell I'm accepting that lousy apology! You drunkard!"

He stands up and seems to kick Vash, who's still on the ground and mostly out of sight. Wolfwood demands, "Why are you even sorry for something like that, huh?? I chose my own path. It was all my decision! How many times do I say it to get it stick in that thick head of yours? Stop. Blaming. Yourself. For the things. You've not done. Idiot! Stupid spikey hair!!"

Vash's face is cut off, but a tear in his eye can be seen as he weakly says, "... oof.. wood..." Wolfwood looks tired and sighs, "... Ha... Don't feel bad about me. Until when will you realise just how much you've done for us? You've done more than enough for me, Needle Noggin."

The perspective zooms out to focus on the sky and two moons, including the fifth moon. Wolfwood's wings and the Punisher can just be seen at the bottom. Wolfwood says, "And you're brave, to go against what you've been taught your whole life. You're not a coward. You faced them until the end. So don't sell yourself short like that next time, okay?" We see Vash's face, smiling with tears in his closed eyes. Wolfwood concludes: "I'll get mad."

Wolfwood narrates, "—He passed out right after for the whole night on the cold ground. I realised how little I could help in the situation." He tries to drape his coat over Vash, sweating, and wonders, "Wouldn't it just pass through ...?"

Time passes, and Vash gets up with a sneeze and rubs his eyes. Wolfwood watches him with his eyebrows raised, and Vash laughs quietly and a bit nervously. Wolfwood narrates, "As if he'd heard my voice, a burden seems to be lifted off his shoulder when he woke up. That, or maybe he'd forgotten what happened last night. He was quick to take his leave right after.

"And so, Vash the Stampede went on a journey with a promise." Vash waves goodbye, turning to leave with his bag in hand. "I'll be sure to bring back more stuff next time!! See you later!" Wolfwood concludes, "While I watch him from afar... again." Wolfwood sits below the Punisher and waves back, saying with bemusement, "Has he never heard the phrase 'do not disturb the death?' He really throws me off..." The title is named, and it says "/ END." End ID]

[link to Image ID reblog post!]

[ckret2]

Chapter 62* of the first day of the rest of human Bill Cipher's life—he's back in the Mystery Shack but whether or not he's a prisoner anymore is up in the air, he's proven he knows how to escape, and the Pines have proven they don't want to execute him anymore. For now. How's he gonna celebrate?

With back pain! That's what you get from half a week of running around in the woods ignoring all your body's pain signals.

But at least it can't get worse.

This chapter is book compatible but book spoiler free! The fic won't remain spoiler free, but while I figure out how to incorporate the new info in the fic, we're proceeding with pre-written chapters unaltered.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

####

Soos was awakened by Melody as she thrashed and sucked in a gasp like a scream. Groggily, Soos said, "Babe? You okay?"

She rolled over, grabbing for his arms with trembling hands. "Soos—"

"I've got you." He half sat up with a sleepy groan and pulled Melody into his embrace. She pressed her face into his chest with a sigh. As he stroked her hair, her breathing slowly steadied out again.

"M'good," Melody said. "Sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it, babe. Always happy to cuddle." He yawned. "Sleep paralysis again?"

"Yeah," Melody sighed.

For as long as Melody could remember, she'd had sleep paralysis nightmares: nights where she'd wake up and find she was unable to move any part of her body but her eyes, and a monster escaped from her worst dreams was lurking in the room. Shadowy figures with glowing eyes, twisted demonic representations of her least favorite teachers, hunched hags with claws extending out of tattered robes—for three years, it had looked like a werewolf-mummy from an old horror movie that terrified her as a child—filling the doorway, or silhouetted in the window, or standing perfectly straight in the corner with neck tilted sideways as though it were broken, or staring hungrily down at her from the ceiling with bulging eyes, or crawling up from the foot of the bed and over her body to grab her throat.

The first time she spent the night with Soos, she'd warned him about her sleep paralysis; but for the past year, she'd never had a nightmare while sleeping in the Mystery Shack. She'd even been completely free of them for several months—something subconsciously reassuring about having her fiancé next to her, probably—until their unwelcome house guest moved in and she'd gone back to sleeping at her aunt's house in town.

And now she was even having them in the shack.

"This is the third time in less than a month," Soos asked. "Same one as usual?"

"Mhm."

"I couldn't protect you this time," Soos said mournfully. "I have failed you as your knight in shining armor... Maybe I need shining armor. Do you think they make like, shiny silver spandex pajamas?"

Melody laughed. "Soos, you goofball." She hugged him tighter. "It's fine. I always get sleep paralysis more when I'm stressed. And the situation in the shack's been... well..."

"Yeah," Soos sighed. "I know." She didn't need to tell him what part of "the situation" was stressing her out.

For the past year, ever since Weirdmageddon—which she'd been just unlucky enough to catch live on a weekend trip to visit Soos—her sleep paralysis demon had looked like Bill Cipher.

She'd told Soos this last fall, and in a panic he'd told her that Bill was a dream-invading demon; and for a moment they'd feared this meant Bill had found a way back. But no—according to Soos, Bill was a real chatterbox, and he was always doing something if he invaded your dreams. The thing Melody saw acted like any of her other nightmares: creepy. Standing on too-long legs at the end of the bed; giving off sickly yellow light she could see through her eyelids; staring at her with one bloodshot eye; crawling onto her chest with claws like gnarled black branches. It was just an unlucky coincidence that the real Bill had been a dream demon, and just an unlucky coincidence that being petrified by an eye-bat felt so much like sleep paralysis.

Ironically, now she had confirmation that her nightmares didn't mean Bill was back—because, when Bill did come back, her nightmares hadn't changed.

"My subconscious just hasn't caught up to the fact that you guys finally executed him," Melody said, getting comfortable to go back to sleep. "The good news is, the real Bill's gone and we never need to worry about that again."

"Oh," Soos said. "Um. By the way. The craziest thing happened at like one in the morning."

####

Bill was creeping upstairs to bed when he heard Melody shout, "He's WHAT?!"

He had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out giggling.

####

Bill was getting better at using his other eyes in his sleep, even when he hadn't chemically connected himself to them. His range wasn't very far yet. From inside the shack, all he could feel was his hoodie, his new necklace, a handful of drawings Mabel had done, and four blankets of his zodiac wheel: two in the kids' room, one in Soos's, and one in the dark.

Around eight in the morning, Mabel was still sleeping comfortably and Dipper was staring at the ceiling worrying; all was right with the world. He only glanced into Soos's room long enough to overhear Melody, "—I'm not mad at you, I'm just mad about the whole situation. I mean, I'll adjust, but still—" before moving on, uninterested in listening to a cutesy couple reassuring each other.

The fourth blanket was in some tight dark container—leather?—but he could hear a muffled voice: "If Bill's staying here on a long term basis, we need to renegotiate... almost everything about his captivity." That was Ford. It was gratifying to know that even when Bill was asleep, the whole household was thinking about him.

"Yeah, you're right," Stan sighed. "We can't just let him keep sleeping on a couple of cushions. We haven't been able to use that couch all summer." There was the sound of a zipper and the lid over the zodiac blanket swung up, revealing Stan standing above.

Ford said, "And trying to get him to sleep in the living room is a lost cause. He says he needs to sleep in a room where he can see the stars."

A guilty look crossed Stan's face. "Right. That's probably it." He pushed the zodiac blanket aside, pulled out a t-shirt, and shut the suitcase again. "We could get—I don't know—an inflatable mattress or something..."

"There's an unused mattress in the basement, isn't there? Maybe we could haul it up." (It wasn't a terribly comfortable mattress. But Bill supposed they only wanted to give him the bare minimum so they could get their precious couch cushions back.)

"I'll ask Soos about it," Stan said. "Well, let's get this over with."

That was Bill's cue to wake up. He'd like to look alert when they came for him. Negotiations ought to go in his favor; he could still threaten suicide if their terms felt too restrictive—or even just threaten to escape, he could do that now if he didn't like their terms!—but they couldn't threaten to kill him anymore. He wondered if he could get phone privileges...

He opened his eyes. He was laying on his left side, the window at his back. He tried to push himself upright.

Sharp pain exploded in the left side of his back. He gasped, collapsing on his side. The pain clawed over his left shoulder, inside his arm, up his neck, across to his right shoulder blade, down nearly to his hips. His entire body tensed around the pain.

He let out a weak, wheezy laugh. (He could feel his ribcage contracting as he exhaled.) That was truly exquisite pain.

All right. He shouldn't be surprised by this. He'd spent four of the last five days tromping through forests and mountains and three of the last five nights getting next to no sleep, including two nights in a thin sleeping bag. The last couple of days, he'd hiked all over creation carrying two fully-loaded backpacks, in a body that had gotten next to no exercise for the past month and probably hadn't been designed for hiking in the first place. And on top of all that, first he'd thought the Axolotl was coming to arrest him and then that the Pines were going to kill him—and human bodies handled emotional stress very poorly. Not to mention whatever the heck had happened when three-fourths of his body had simply stopped working for an hour.

He'd ached for days. He'd simply kept pushing himself through it all, because this stupid weak human body didn't get the luxury of rest when Bill's life and death were on the line. 

Apparently, that was all the pushing it could take. Now he felt like someone had shoved a knife in his back and twisted the muscles up around the blade like twirling a forkful of spaghetti. (Oh, that sounded delicious. One more brilliant idea to implement when he restarted Weirdmageddon: spinal muscle spaghetti. Freshly grated parmesan, maybe a little pesto.)

It was difficult even to breathe—that little motion was enough to make his back muscles squeal in pain. He had to carefully move his hips and right arm in tiny motions to let him roll onto his back while roiling up his pained muscles as little as possible; and then he just as carefully rolled onto his right side, his back to the room. The human body was such a fascinatingly complex interconnected thing, crisscrossed with puppet strings that all tugged each other; no matter what part of his body he moved, somehow it managed to yank on something in his upper left back. He curled his left arm against his chest and squeezed his elbow with his right arm, trying to find a way to tense the rest of his body that reduced the tension on his back.

He heard the door to Mabel and Dipper's room open. For lack of a better plan, he shut his eyes and tried to look natural as they passed him on the way to the stairs. Like heck was he about to let the kids know he was in pain, much less ask them for help. He doubted he was severely injured—he combed through his knowledge of human anatomy—probably just a muscle spasm. It would reduce in a few hours; and then he could make his way downstairs and figure out how to convince someone to get him an ice pack out of the freezer without betraying that anything was wrong. For now, he just had to lay down, try to find a position that didn't stab into his revolting muscles, and wait...

Downstairs, Stan bellowed, "Hey, demon! Get down here!"

Right. What were the odds Bill could make it downstairs and fake that he wasn't in agonizing pain in front of the Pines family? Could he suppress those winces convincingly? He tried to sit up.

And immediately fell to his side again with a gasp. In spite of his breathtakingly self-destructive willpower, he physically couldn't force himself to sit upright. Why not! What was the point?! He didn't mind the pain half as much as his body did, and he thought he should be the one in control here!

Stan hollered, "BILL!"

His voice cracked, "Later!" Ugh. Good thing he'd gotten in his dramatic return last night. He suspected that was the last time he'd look cool for a while.

####

Soos was just emerging from the bedroom when he heard Stan shouting, "I said get down here, Cipher!"

There was a long pause before the reply came from upstairs: "Can't!"

"I WASN'T ASKING!"

"ME NEITHER."

Something was up. Bill always talked a little too hard—not always loud, but hard—as though he were trying to carry on a regular conversation over a strong wind; but Soos thought something about his voice seemed even more forced today. Almost strained.

Soos heard Stan and Ford talking quietly as they headed up the stairs—"...sounds off, do you think he's injured?" "I can't imagine how, if he'd been up this morning we would have heard him banging around..."—and he followed them up.

At the top of the stairs, Stan demanded, "Well? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me." Bill was curled up on his usual cushion bed. He didn't even turn to look at them. "Just—let me sleep in. Am I not allowed to sleep in? It's not like I have a job." Now that he wasn't straining to shout, his voice sounded even more pained—barely more than a tight whisper.

"All right, fine. Nothing's wrong with you," Ford said. "Then what's wrong with your body?"

Bill chuckled weakly in defeat. "Back's in too much agony to do its job, so I'm giving it the day off."

"Oh, dude," Soos said sympathetically. "Back pain is the worst. One time, I messed up my back after carrying a bunch of boxes between the museum and the attic? Yeah, it was pretty bad for like, a day. I was kinda crying, because it hurt, but also because I had to miss work, and I felt awful about it—but then I remembered the Mystery Shack was closed that day, and I wasn't missing work. So I went to sleep."

Stan and Ford stared expectantly at Soos.

"That's it, that's my whole anecdote."

"Riveting," Bill said flatly. "Did you invite everyone up here to stare at me?" With great difficulty, he pulled his bedsheet up over his head, leaving only a pile of golden curls visible. "Anyway. I'd love to come downstairs—really, I'm famished—buuut my back won't cooperate, and I can't tell you how furious I am about laying on the ground like an idiot at the feet of three of my captors, so if. you. all. would. leave. Please." The "please" came out sounding like the final word of a hex.

Soos winced. Oh, yeah, he supposed being stuck on the floor in front of a bunch of guys you didn't like was pretty embarrassing. He looked toward the stairs and shifted his feet, waiting for the Stans to make a move that direction.

But instead they huddled up to discuss. Stan muttered, "Think he's faking?"

"Why would he?" Soos asked.

Ford murmured, "Soos is right—unless he's that desperate to sleep in, I can't think of a reason he'd lie. He had some... muscular issues after the eclipse—and who knows what he's been up to the last couple of days..." Ford raised his voice, "This isn't the same thing as after the eclipse—?"

"No, just garden variety human back pain," Bill said quickly. "I assume it's garden variety. I've never had back pain before."

"Can you tell what muscles it is?"

"Ugh." Bill let out a shaky sigh. "Pain's... generalized, but... top suspect is the latissimus dorsi. Next guess is the erector spinae group."

"What," Stan said.

Ford nodded like he knew what Bill was talking about. Which he probably did, Soos figured. Doctor and all. "Probably not a severe injury, then. It likely just needs rest—"

Irritably, Bill snapped, "Like I said."

"Great," Stan said. "Then I don't care anymore." He headed downstairs. "Lemme know when the demon can walk again."

Soos and Ford exchanged an awkward look, silently debating whether to follow suite. Ford turned to Bill and cleared his throat. "What do you want for breakfast."

Bill groaned and muttered, "Probably can't use utensils. Whatever, just—bacon and toast and the strongest painkillers in the house."

"All right." Ford headed downstairs.

That struck Soos as inadequate. Trailing after Ford, he said, "Dude, Bill's in so much pain he can't even sit up. Shouldn't we offer to call a doctor or something?"

Ford said, "Knowing Bill, he'd rather die."

Soos considered that. "I'm gonna offer it anyway." He backtracked enough to get his head above the attic floor. "Hey Bill, do you want us to call a doctor or something?"

"I'd rather die."

"Haha, okay! Welp, glad I checked."

But as he headed down to the kitchen, something about the situation still bothered Soos.

Ford was already laying out bacon in a frying pan. "Soos, could you get the painkillers?" he asked. "We should probably give him individual pills rather than the whole bottle. When he got his hands on the cold medicine, he used it to get crossfaded with cider and to drug a wild animal."

Soos winced. Ouch, was that the cold medicine he'd given Bill? (He wondered when Ford had learned the phrase "crossfaded.") 

"Hey... didn't Bill say he was famished?" Soos asked. "Is it kinda weird he's just asking for bacon and toast?"

It took Ford a long moment to answer. He didn't look up from the bacon. "I... suppose he's too proud to ask for anything more complicated."

"Why wait for him to ask, then? Just make him some more stuff anyway?"

Ford shook his head. "He'd be insulted."

Ford had been right about Bill's reactions so far, but— "Okay, fine. Then I'll bring it upstairs and insult him. He'll be insulted and fed. What do you think he'll eat?"

Ford glanced at Soos. Soos thought the look was grateful.

####

Apparently, Bill's age looked a little bit different to everybody. Soos had first found out when Abuelita mentioned that Bill looked like one of those ladies she saw at bingo night who were clearly 60-something, but had had a little too much work done—makeup, facial injections, hair dye. The sort who never really looked younger, but rather just gave off the impression that they were terrified of looking older.

So Soos had asked Mabel, and she said that Bill looked like he was in his mid-20s—about Soos's age, maybe a little older. He'd asked Dipper, and Dipper said he had no idea—to him, Bill never really looked quite convincingly human, more like an alien wearing a human rubber mask—but if he had to take a guess at the age the rubber mask was supposed to portray... like, middle-age-ish? Parent-middle-age-ish? Maybe 40-something? 40-something. Melody had had a hard time as well, but eventually settled on early 30s—the age you imagined a snotty Silicon Valley startup CEO would be.

Which was all very fascinating to Soos.

Because to him, Bill looked eighteen. Exactly eighteen.

At 23, Soos was just reaching the age where 18-year-olds stopped looking like peers and started looking like babies. Eighteen was "you know this is what an adult looks like, but it takes you by surprise almost every time" age. Eighteen was "you wouldn't be surprised to see this face behind a counter working as a barista, but you'd be a little alarmed if you overheard them talking about paying rent" age. Eighteen was "they can be all alone in the world making their own decisions and it's technically okay, but if they are, then someone failed them" age.

To him, Bill looked like somebody who'd been flung callously out into the world before his time—unprepared, overwhelmed, and alone.

Soos knew Bill was older than the whole universe or whatever. He knew that Bill was the guy who'd tried to take over the Earth. But he wasn't that guy now. Look at him. He shouldn't have been worried about imprisonment or world domination or getting executed. He should have been making pocket change working at the mall food court over summer break and playing Dancy Pants Revolution at the arcade with other recent high school grads and making puppy eyes at all the small business owners in town until somebody offered him a minimum-wage full-time job and sneaking into the movie theater on Saturday mornings.

Soos was finding it more and more impossible to see Bill as the enemy, much less as some incomprehensible alien. He had cousins who looked like Bill. Slap a pair of sunglasses over his freaky eyes and try to ignore that his body proportions were just a bit unnatural, and he could blend right into a Ramirez family portrait. Just another post-high-school pre-college kid in the middle of the transition from skinny teen to fat adult that most Ramirez women went through by 30. His neon yellow hair would fit right in beside Reggie's little sister's current neon red dye job.

From the moment Bill temporally poofed into the Mystery Shack on June 1 with a Pony Heist bedsheet toga and an ineffective vengeance plot, he'd been going through the physical and emotional wringer. Soos got it, of course Bill was having a bad time, he was a prisoner because he was a danger to the whole universe. And being human for the first time was probably tough. One time Soos was stuck in a pig's body and that was rough, and it was only for one day and at least Soos had still been a mammal. It was probably inevitable that Bill was having a bad time.

But it bothered Soos, seeing somebody in his house who was so miserable. And it bothered him that no one else seemed very bothered.

He loved the Pines family—he'd reverse-adopted Stan as his dad and he'd give his life for any one of them—but part of him had to wonder whether they'd be more bothered by witnessing the hell Bill was going through if he looked like he could be part of their family.

####

"Hey dawg!" Soos hefted up the tray as he entered the attic. "Breakfast!"

Bill was still buried under his bedsheet. "Stanford couldn't be bothered to come up himself?"

"I wanted to bring it!"

Bill grumbled something inaudible. He'd made no secret of the fact that he disdained Soos, although Soos had no idea why. When a human looked down on Soos, he had a couple guesses; but he didn't know what an alien could judge him for. Was it the British dog man nightmare? Was Bill insulted by Soos's 10th grade geometry grades?

But Bill didn't protest, so Soos scooted around his makeshift bed to set the tray down on the floor in front of him. "Uh... feel better, dude. Hey, you know—if sleeping on the floor is hurting your back, the fold-out sofa in the living room is still totally available. Just, in case you wanna—"

"Not interested," Bill said. "Buzz off, Questiony."

"Okay." He'd offered.

Soos was almost back to the stairs when Bill said, "What is all this stuff?"

"It's breakfast!" The tray included bacon, a toasted sandwich, a drink with one of those straw that bent in the middle so Bill didn't have to sit up all the way up to drink it, a pre-opened chip bag, and a pre-opened pill bottle. (Soos had elected to ignore Ford's advice that they mete out painkillers one pill at a time. If they gave Bill individual pills, he'd have to ask for more when they wore off, and Soos suspected he'd rather choose to suffer.)

"I didn't ask for this."

"Well, I thought you might want some other stuff."

"I don't."

Surprise! Bill was insulted. Soos didn't understand how he could be insulted by some extra food for breakfast—he's still gotten his bacon and toast—but all right, fine, Soos had been warned. "Oh, okay. Just don't eat anything you don't want."

Bill grunted in response.

As Soos started down the stairs, Bill said, "Hey, Questiony. If Mabel asks where I am, just tell her I woke up for breakfast then decided to sleep in."

Aww, he didn't want her to worry. "What about if Dipper asks?"

"Tell him to mind his own business."

"Heh. You got it, dude." Soos headed back to the kitchen—still bothered.

####

Yesterday, Soos and Melody had made plans to take advantage of the Mystery Shack being closed for the day to make breakfast together, the way they used to during the off season. But today, Melody had said that, now that Bill was alive again, she wasn't comfortable eating in the shack, and she'd gone to her aunt's house. She'd said she wasn't mad at Soos, and he believed her—he'd played no part in Bill's continued survival—but still. It kinda felt like she was mad at Soos.

So Soos was eating brunch by himself in the kitchen when Bill gingerly eased himself downstairs—leaning to one side, wincing in pain, one eye squeezed shut, and supporting himself on his broken umbrella; but, mobile again. He ducked into the living room where Stan and Ford were watching TV and, from what Soos had overheard, planning what to do with the rest of their summer. "Okay, I'm here," Bill said. "Negotiations?"

"Hey—no weapons," Stan said. "Hand over the umbrella."

"What! You let me keep it last night."

"Yeah, when it was raining and we were tired. I don't see any rain inside the house."

"Hey, Mr. Pines?" Soos leaned out of the kitchen. "Bill was just using the umbrella to walk? Maybe we could let him keep this one?"

Bill shot Soos a dirty look, face flushed. (What was that for!)

Stan paused, and turned to Ford for a verdict. Ford pressed his lips together, looked away, and muttered, "Well, if he's using it for legitimate purposes."

Bill stared at Ford, brows raised in amazement. "Wait, wait—I'm allowed to have it now?"

"Yes?" Ford said. "I mean—If you're using it to walk, why wouldn't you be?"

"Why wouldn't I—?!" Bill laughed in disbelief. "'No weapons, Bill!' 'No weapons, Bill!' Ev-ry sin-gle time! No canes, no umbrellas, no brooms, no baseball bats, no GOLF CLUBS, no STICKS, no CURTAIN RODS—"

"Oh come on!" Stan spread his hands defensively. "Some of those can obviously be used as weapons—!"

"I wouldn't have needed a baseball bat if you hadn't already taken my cane!"

"You tried to brain Soos with a cane on your first day."

Bill shot another dirty look at Soos.

Soos said apologetically, "That did objectively happen."

Bill rolled his open eye and glowered at Stan again. "What, so because of that I'm not allowed to walk?"

"I," Stan said. "That." He turned to Ford again for help.

Ford said, "If we'd known you needed a cane—"

"I fall down the stairs twice a day!"

"Well," Ford said.

"You use me falling to tell when I'm up in the morning!"

"Ah."

"Did it not occur to you! That this was a problem! That I was trying to solve!"

"I see your point."

Why didn't he just say something, Soos wondered; followed by, what, the guy who refused to explain why he was stuck laying on the floor until we dragged it out of him?

"Well, you've got an umbrella now," Stan said. "Happy?"

"Elated," Bill said sourly. He perched on the armrest of the sofa, visibly wincing as he crossed his legs and found the right position to balance himself. (Soos noted that, since Stan and Ford were already occupying both armchairs and the sofa's seat cushions were in the attic, Bill didn't have any cushioned place to sit. With back pain, no less.) "Let's get this over with."

The crux of the negotiations was that, when Bill and the Pines had initially agreed on the terms of his imprisonment, they'd only been meant to be sufficient enough to last until either the Pines figured out how to kill him or Bill figured out how to escape. Now that both had happened and it looked like Bill would be staying here longer than planned, they supposed they needed something more sustainable.

Bill requested door rights back. Stan and Ford nixed that immediately; they didn't trust him with that kind of freedom.

"Fine, then at least let me go outside. I want fresh air, blue skies, and a social life! I'm an extrovert, I'm losing even more of my mind in here."

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. "Yeah," Stan said grudgingly. "He's more or less in solitary in here. Even for him, that's harsh." (A ghost of a triumphant smirk flickered across Bill's face and disappeared.)

Ford considered that with an unconvinced grimace; but he said, "I suppose... you can make occasional trips outside the shack for... mental health purposes. Under adequate supervision."

"Finally," Bill sighed. "So what's 'adequate' supervision?"

That was where negotiations broke down. Stan and Ford did not think that Mabel alone was adequate supervision for the villainous Bill Cipher, and Wendy was just barely sufficient for Rainbow Club nights but he couldn't be trusted alone with her outside that; Bill, on the other hand, objected strenuously to the suggestion that he could only go outside with somebody who hated and/or distrusted him—which described everyone in the shack except Wendy and Mabel—because that would just make going outside miserable.

They couldn't agree on what kinds of things Bill would be allowed to do, either. They didn't like the idea of him hanging out with Rainbow Club members outside of club meetings, or going with Abuelita to bingo, or visiting a bar in town—all of those would give him too many opportunities to manipulate people with minimal oversight.

"Okay," Bill said irritably, "so are there any social activities I am allowed to participate in! Since it sounds like socialization itself is off limits—!"

Soos decided to make himself scarce before things got any more heated. Maybe he'd go upstairs to retrieve the tray from breakfast.

####

The bacon and drink had been consumed; the bendy straw had been tied in a double loop; the pill bottle was alarmingly light; the sandwich had been picked at, before Bill elected to eat the toast around it and leave the filling behind on the plate; and the potato chip bag had been flung across the room, crushed chips left in its wake, in some sort of protest against receiving unasked-for food. Okay. So Bill was really insulted, then.

Eh, Soos should probably clean up here anyway. He took pride in keeping the Mystery Shack clean, but he hadn't had a chance to thoroughly clean the attic since Bill and the kids moved in for the summer. And it looked like the projectile potato chips weren't the only junk food trash that had accumulated. He saw empty chip bags, candy wrappers, peanut butter jars, jerky packets, cider cans... a lot of cider cans...

He went downstairs, got a broom, a trash bag, and a vacuum, and got to work.

As Soos worked his way across the floor sucking up potato chips, he quietly sang to himself, "Am I cleanin'? Girl, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the attic. 'Are you cleanin'?' Yeah, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the..." He picked up the couch cushions to vacuum under them—he still wondered why Bill preferred to sleep on the cushions rather than the sofa bed downstairs. Maybe he got scared of the dark and liked to sleep by a window? That would make sense. Since Bill used to glow when he was a triangle, he probably wasn't used to the dark. Or maybe he just thought the attic was cooler than the living room.

Soos almost set the cushions back on the ground, noticed bloodstains on one, and froze. He'd seen Bill with a lot of little injuries, but had he seen any cuts that big? The blood didn't look fresh. They'd at least been here long enough for Bill to hide them on the underside of the cushion. Soos looked around wildly for any clues about how or why or when, uneasily decided that since they were dry and Bill wasn't dead he didn't need to worry about it, and pulled out the upholstery attachment to give the stain a halfhearted vacuuming before putting the cushions back in place. What the heck was happening in this attic?

Soos scooped up the mostly yellow and black clothes sitting at the foot of the cushion-bed—they were outside Bill's cardboard box "dresser," he figured that meant they were dirty—wrapped them in Bill's Pony Heist sheet, and tossed the bundle toward the staircase. They flew down to the landing without hitting the stairs. "Yes! Three points! No net!" Soos pumped his fist.

He cleaned the window seat's cushion with the upholstery attachment, picked it up to clean underneath—and the cushion was really heavy on one side. He felt that side of the cushion; there was something hard and brick-ish inside. He caught a flash of white along one edge. The cushion's stuffing was coming out of a tear in the seam. Soos reached inside.

His jaw dropped. "No way. How did he...?"

Soos had pulled out two stubby crayons and the long-lost Journal 4.

####

(If you got this far thank you for taking a break from the fandom-wide riots over the book in order to read my fic. (I'm assuming there's fandom-wide riots, I'm queuing this Monday night so that I don't have to worry about it for the rest of the week.) Anyway, I'd love to hear what y'all think about our first Soos-focused plot arc!

And as promised, now that the book's out, I'll be getting to work crossposting the fic to Ao3 soon-ish. I don't know when yet, since I'm writing to y'all from the past, but soon.)

[alexanderwales]

The Digital Corpse

I always read about what school shooters or wannabe assassins have to say. I read or at least skim through manifestos, most of which are really poorly written and usually just have badly misunderstood ideas that are copy-pasted from diverse places. I read social media posts and discord logs, where available. Some of this is morbid fascination that I don't endorse, but some of it is the impulse to understand how and why a thing like this happened.

So I've been following the news on Trump's would-be assassin, and to all appearances he was just a kid who was bullied at school and didn't have a lot of hobbies, skills, talents, or friends. He wanted power and control and had no way to get it, and I think there's something to the notion that a lot of white men think that their whiteness or maleness means they're owed something. When Trump came to town, it was opportunity falling into his lap. If you're 20 years old and feeling like the world cares nothing for you, then yeah, I can see why you'd take your shot. It's a way of being famous, of going out with a bang, and young men often feel invincible anyway. The shocking thing is that it almost worked, and that seems to be down to incompetence and complacency.

But if it had worked, and they hadn't immediately shot him to death, he'd have gotten all the worst parts of fame (in addition to what would probably be life in prison). In death he's got intense scrutiny of everything he's ever posted online. There are reports about how sad and lonely he was. If he'd succeeded, maybe there would be some on the left who would idolize him, but as it stands ... I can imagine wanting to be megafamous, but I cannot imagine wanting it to be like this. It was almost certainly different in his imagination though, a grand moment that would give meaning to his life and demonstrate that he did, in fact, have power.

And of course the whole thing will be forgotten in a week or two. A year from now you'll say the name "Thomas Crooks" and people will say "huh, that ... do I know that name?"

On the other side of things, there's Corey Comperatore. He was the other person to die that day, just a random guy who had attended a Trump rally and got hit by a bullet because from one specific angle he was standing behind Trump. If Thomas Crooks left almost nothing behind to make sense of his life, Corey Comperatore left behind what feels like a lot. The fame is more double-edged. He's lauded as a hero by some, even if the only thing he did was catch a stray. Generously, that's a way of making sense of things: just like it's not enough for Crooks to be alienated and dejected, it's not enough for Comperatore to just be someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But Corey Comperatore is also having his life torn open, or at least the parts of it that he put online. Posting online was something he probably did without thinking too much about it. The worst one, for me, was him saying that the Palestinians would "get over it" like the Japanese did. It's something I think about a lot in the social media age, the picture that people would get if they went looking through all our posts, if they were trying to make a picture of you from the things you've left behind. If you died in a very public way, what's the worst post you've ever made? What would people find ironic? But of course you don't need to die, we're in an era where anyone can get flash famous by random happenstance. And of course in the modern day we want the delicious little morsels, the worst thing you've ever said, the most ironic, most iconic, most infuriating sound bite that can represent a whole person. Anything more anodyne is pointless, even if that's the bulk of someone's life.

I'm probably a little unusual in terms of digital fingerprints. I'm active on discords, I've written some four million words of fiction, and my reddit comment karma is in the six figure range, which probably means that I've got something like fifty thousand comments. I talk a lot. But I do think about being torn apart like that, what would happen if I were famous for a day before the news cycle moved on, if there were hundreds or thousands of people trying to make sense of me.

When I die, if anyone has reason to go snooping through my history, I hope there's a good-looking corpse.

[violetasteracademic]

I saw someone say they don't like Elriel simply because Azriel and Elain don't do it for them as a couple. They just aren't into the emo boy/flower girl dynamic. And truth be told? That's the most respectable anti take I've ever heard. Because there is no right or wrong, there's no points to argue. It's just like, hey, I see it, and I don't like it. Which is kind of how I feel about G*wynriel and E*lucien as well. So it's genuinely just a really fair and uncomplicated take.

I simply *don't like* forced proximity with the person that has already been assigned to you and eventually falling in love with them, then realizing it's for the best anyways because it will solve a bunch of conflicts as much as I *like* fuck fate and fuck politics and fuck the Gods, you are the person I want and I will burn the whole world down to be with you. If it goes against every rule, if it puts us in the front line of every danger, and tears at the very fabric of society, it still will be you for me and I'll do whatever it takes.

And that's just vibes, there's really not much more to say!

I *don't like* I was completely obsessed with two different women, but after being rejected by both of them I finally realized, thank goodness! I've had a mate this whole time! And I saved her from being r*ped by a bunch more men than just one years ago and then trained with her every day and now that I'm finally free of being in love with other women, I finally have noticed what is right in front of me as much as I *like* your mate is sleeping upstairs and if he catches us he will have every right to demand I fight to the death over you but I literally can't stop wanting you and needing you and questioning fate because I don't understand how we aren't meant to be together.

I know for a fact I won't like a G*wynriel or E*lucien book *as much* as Elriel because I have read those sorts of similar vibes or comparable plot points before, and it's just like, meh. Not for me. My least favorite trope is the guy who suddenly realizes his best gal pal is the one he should have been into all along after only going for beautiful women he thought were way out of his league. That's not romantic to me at all. But I respect that it is to others. I think it's perfectly okay to simply vibe with different things.

Do I think the books are quite clearly headed towards Elriel? Absolutely. But I think even if they weren't, I'd be crack shipping them anyways because I absolutely love what they have to offer plot, story, tone, aesthetic, style, and romance wise. They are the full package for me. Feysand was a full package for me. Nessian isn't my usual style or favorite trope or vibe, but I still enjoyed the hell out of it.

I think Sarah has given the sisters really distinct personalities and completely individual storylines. I personally still love every book. I adored ACOSF. Buuuuut I don't really need it rewritten a second time in a different font, which is what I think G*wynriel would be. Minus all of the "it's been you since the moment I laid eyes on you" swoon worthiness that I loved for Nesta and Cassian and introducing the "I can't believe I didn't notice my own mate standing right next to me and being harmed and put in mortal danger repeatedly for three years because I was in love with other women" element.

But ACOSF is polarizing. I've seen people say it is either objectively the best book Sarah has ever written, or objectively the worst.

Elain is a unique sister, with a personality and powers that could not be more different from Feyre and Nesta. Everything about her book is not going to match what we have seen in the series so far. And I think that's a GOOD thing. ACOSF was a tone shift, and I think Elain's book will be a tone shift. But I think her book is probably going to be polarizing as well. And it will likely be my favorite.

Although the fandom has gotten a bit aggressive, I think it's really cool that people found their favorite in Nesta and ACOSF in a way that is really kind of deep and specific. I think Elain and Elriel will be that for me. That's what books are supposed to do. Humanity is not one size fits all. It makes perfect sense that people locked into Nessian (or just Nesta) in a way they didn't with Feyre/Feysand. And although there's a crop of anti ic people out there now, Feysand will always be a crowd pleaser. So I'm just hoping the girlies who get it will have their chance to connect that deeply with Elriel too!

I love each Archeron sister, and I for one love how different they are. I appreciate their stories for different reasons. But I am ACHING for Elain and Azriel to lean into their vibes and continue on their journey of questioning the system and deconstructing religion and battling the obstacles in their way. That will always be more interesting and way sexier and peak romance to me and will undoubtedly take spot number 1 in my heart.

[luvsturniolo]

ー ★ !! STRANGER

pairing : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : having been dared to kiss a random stranger, you're the first person matt choses to approach

a/n : guys ive been needing to write another fic so badly that i got this prompt off of pinterest and i'm completely winging it (this is a cry for help. pls send reqs bc i'm running low atm.)

i hate how this is written & this is prob the worst thing i've done on this app but i need to post something so ur gonna read it anyway !

wc : 2.5k

nick, matt, chris, nate, and madi are currently on an expidition to the mall. they hardly ever hang out as a complete group, so everyones moods are sky rocketed from the simple fact of them all being together. it honestly doesn't matter what they're buying or where they are. they'll all have smiles on their faces regardless.

"i'm surprised nick isn't trying to record a video right now." chris says as the group enters a random clothing store. "it's one of the very few times we're all together and everyone is in good moods. nick would normally take advantage of that."

"just say you want to record and move on." matt grumbles, walking over to one of the racks to flip through the t-shirts on display.

"i don't want to record! i was saying nick probably would!" chris tries to defend himself, earning weird looks from everyone due to this very clearly being a lie. chris lets out a sigh when he realizes that nobody is believing him. "whatever. i'm just saying that i don't think we should waste the opportunity to make good content. the fans love nate and madi."

"woww," madi says sarcastically, feigning offence, "you're just using us for content?"

"oh, shut up." chris replies, dramatically rolling his eyes at her teasing. madi giggles and takes a sip from the cup of lemonade she got from lunch earlier today at the food court. everyone else already finished their drinks, she's the only one with anything leftover from the meal.

"i didn't bring the camera anyway." nick says with a careless shrug, causing chris's jaw to drop with shock. "i wanted this hangout to be authentic. just everyone laughing and smiling together as a group. no cameras. no new friends. just us."

"since when did you ever leave the house without your camera?" chris asks him with his jaw still hung loose on its hinges. "it's practically glued to your bag at all times."

matt finds himself zoning out of the conversation as he looks around at the clothes. their argument about recording is only relevant to him if they decide that they are going to record. otherwise, it's unimportant and frankly quite boring. and now that nick admitted that he didn't even bring the camera, the conversation is no longer of interest to him.

they continue to stay near the front of the store, nick and chris arguing about the camera predicament while nate and madi laugh at them from the sidelines. but matt strays away from the group. he has about eighty bucks he brought with the intent on spending it all today. well, at least half of it or more. so he begins to get distracted with the task of finding new clothes to add to his wardrobe.

he made a mental note before leaving the house that he wants more hoodies since the weather is started to get colder. knowing this, he wanders over to the back of the store. he's been here enough to know that there's a rack of jackets and long-sleeved shirts in the right corner beside the employee exit door.

matt flips through the clothing. he wants more bright colors in his closet. most of his hoodies are black or dark grey. nick said that his wardrobe looks like a funeral home and he needs something more lively. but nothing here seems to catch his eye.

"need help finding anything?" a random female voice asks him. he turns to face the sound and sees a worker standing to his left. you. and lets just say you definitely catch his eye — unlike any of the clothes you're selling. he likes the style of your hair, the color of your eyes, the shape of your face, the bridge of your nose, all of it.

damn! matt's never been this whipped for a random stranger. it's normal for him to find random girls attractive in public, but something about you is making him unable to take his eyes away yours.

"okay? i'll take that as a no." you say before turning on your heel and leaving. as soon as you walk away, matt feels the urge to call out and stop you, but he doesn't know your name. he was too busy admiring you to read the tag on your uniform.

he lets out a sigh before walking back across the store and rejoining the group, his mood now soured completely. when he walks up to his brothers, nick turns around with a camera in his hand, recording.

"what the hell?" matt says. "i thought you didn't bring it."

"he lied so he didn't have to film." chris says with an eye roll. "but i didn't believe him. so i dug through his backpack and guess what! i found it sitting on the very top, fully charged."

matt just nods, not having anything to say to that. plus, now that he's in a bad mood it's be best to stay away from the camera so his bitchiness doesn't ruin the video. he feels guilty for being like this while everyone else has such high spirits, but he can't help it. he embarassed himself in front of the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. there's no coming back from that.

the group exits the store and they begin to wander around. they're looking for a sunglasses store for nate so he can buy a new pair seeing as he broke his last ones while leaning out of the window of the van. the slipped off of his face — never to be seen again. but nate claims he needed new glasses anyway due to how old and scathed those ones were.

"you okay?" nate asks. the fact that he noticed matt's fatigue takes him by surprise. matt wants to continue sulking in his soured mood, but when he looks at nate's genuine worried expression, he can't help but confide in his friend about the events from earlier.

matt tells him about how he was looking for a jacket when you approached him. you came up so casually as though it meant nothing to you, when it meant everything to him. matt describes you, accentuating your beauty to paint the picture as well as possible. he tells nate that he feels like he's being dramatic, but he can't help it. i mean, you're a complete stranger whose name he doesn't even know. and yet he can't take his mind off of your guys's short interaction.

"i wish i had some wise words of advice for you, but i don't." nate says. "but judging just by the way you talk about her, you need to get her number or something. i've literally never heard you talk about a girl like that. you're fuckin' whipped, man."

"i agree." matt says. "but how the hell am i supposed to get her number when she's a literal stranger? i don't know anything about her."

"you know where she works." nate points out.

matt thinks about this for a moment before deciding that nate's right. he knows where you work and that's more than knowing nothing. someones job says a lot about them — how much money they make, what means a lot to them, etc. i mean, he's not the type of guy who gives a shit about your income, but if he wanted to know something about you, he could easily find out a lot.

"lets buy your sunglasses." matt says, confidence slowly overtaking him now that he doesn't feel like this whole thing is hopeless. "then, we can all go get a snack at the food court so i have some motivation to go talk to her."

nate agrees and hurries to catch up with the rest of the group. matt does the same, rejoining everyone now that his mood is boosted once again. they go to the glasses store and nate picks out a pair that he likes. the whole time, matt is back to normal. everyone notices the shift in his demeanor, but they decide not to point it out.

after nate purchases the glasses he chose, matt tells nick that he's hungry. madi agrees with matt, saying she could eat something seeing as it's been a few hours since they had lunch. not thinking much of it, nick agrees to go to the food court.

"fuck." chris says, sitting in the plastic chair beside matt. "i didn't know they had mozzarella sticks! if i'd known that, i would've gotten them too!"

matt just shrugs, eating another bite with a smug look on his face. chris shoots him a glare and scoffs, turning back to his cheesy fries with a frown. just as chris is about to insult matt, nick and madi come over to the table with their food. nick is still carrying the camera around, filming everything for their next blog. most of what he's filming will be edited out, but he's still taking the footage just in case.

as they all begin eating their food, nate — who had been using the bathroom for the past few minutes — comes back with a slushy and a small grin. he sits on the other side of matt with a weird look on his face. matt gives him a strange look and nate just giggles and looks away.

"i'm bored guys." nate says. "we should play truth or dare."

"okay." chris agrees easily. but nick shakes his head, not thinking this is a good idea. but chris insists. "c'mon, it'll be good content. plus we're not gonna do any stupid dares that will get us in trouble or anything."

when matt and madi take chris's side, nick has no choice but to give in play the game. his only condition is that he gets to ask chris first, and he has to pick dare. chris agrees to his terms.

"i dare you to say yes to everything i ask for the rest of the day." nick tells him with a sarcastic smile. chris rolls his eyes, but has no choice but to do as he says.

"can i go next?" nate asks excitedly. it's supposed to be chris's turn next since he was the one who did the dare, but nick answers dow him. he nods, letting nate go ahead. and chris can't argue since he has to say yes to whatever nick wants. nate grins widely and continues. "matt, truth or dare."

"dare." matt says without hesitation.

"i dare you to kiss a random stranger." nate tells him with a grin. "they have to be in the food court, though."

"what the fuck type of dare is that?" nick shouts. "we're not bringing random stranger into this! plus, isn't that against some kind of law? kissing random people can't be fucking legal."

matt is about to agree with nick, saying it's a horrible idea. but he notices nate flicking his eyes back and forth between matt and someone over his shoulder, gesturing for him to look at them. matt turns around and follows nate's gaze to find you sitting alone at a table. you're wearing your work clothes, sipping on a smoothie while scrolling through your phone.

matt changes his mind in an instant. "it's my dare, nick, not yours. so fuck off and play the game like everyone else."

with that, matt stands up from his seat, causing the legs to scrape against the tiled floor beneath it. he awkwardly approaches you with a giddy smile. god, he feels like an idiot. he feels like he went back in time to when he was a child, getting nervous to talk to literally any girl on the playground.

he stands in front of your table and clears his throat to get your attention. you look up at him and raise a brow in confusion. "mind if i sit down?" he asks, pointing to the chair beside you.

"go ahead." you tell him. you're still confused about who this guy is as he sits down at your table. he's attractive and seems sweet, but who is- oh. as he runs a can through his hair, you remember who he is. "you're the guy from the store. you were the one who stared at me instead of answering."

matt feels his cheeks heat with embarrassment. that's not the first impression he wanted to make. but at least you remember him! it's better than you not knowing who he was at all.

plus, you're not talking to him in a weird way. you're smiling as though you find his awkwardness amusing rather than strange — which it is.

"that's me." he says. matt glances over his shoulder at his friends only to see that they're all staring at you guys intently. chris waves him on, urging him to hurry the hell up.

"they're nosy." you say with a laugh. "i'm assuming they're your friends. otherwise, i'd be extremely creeped out."

"uh, yeah." matt says, looking away from chris to refocus on you. fuck. every time he looks at you, he's taken aback by your beauty. like time seems to slow when you guys make eye contact. "listen, they sent me over here as a dare. i'm supposed to kiss you."

you laugh at him for a second. but then you realize he's not kidding. he's being serious. "god, take me on a date first." you tell him sarcastically. matt laughs, but is still pretty serious about the dare. you feel weird agreeing to kiss a stranger, but it'd be even weirder if you were to say no.

not to mention, the boy beside of you is insanely attractive. it wouldn't be such a bad thing to kiss something this hot. "i'll let you kiss me if you agree to give me your number afterward." you tell him.

"i would have asked for it anyway." matt says with a teasing smile. knowing you have an interest in him as well gave matt a boost in confidence. and you honestly think that his confidence makes him even more attractive.

he leans forward and you do the same. you were expecting a small smooch the way little kids kiss at recess, but this guy went all in. he places one hand on the back of your head to tangle through your hair while the other hand cupped your cheek. the kiss was passionate and needy. and you fucking loved it.

when he broke it to catch his breath, you felt deprived of something more. you were practically craving this guy you met only a few minutes ago.

matt smirked at you before you guys exchanged numbers. you were still distracted by the fact that you guys nearly made out in the middle of the food court to process what was going on. as your confidence left, his was refilled.

"i'll come back to your shop before i leave the mall." matt says. "maybe next time i'll actually catch your name before we make out in the storage room."

@kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq @ifilwtmfc @poopydroopt @cl0esblogg @ellaynaa @itzdarling

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 12

Welcome back to another addition of Dustin being absolutely chaotic as fuck and Robin inserts herself into a dangerous situation because she has to out sass an eighth grader.

This story really is nearing in the end of season 3, and I don't think this story will go for much longer than that. So it will probably be the next story I finish.

What this means is that soon I'll be starting up "The Hellfire Erotic Club" as I am already two chapters into sugar baby!Steve and sugar daddy!Eddie so that one is next on the docket. And as it sounds, it absolutely will be mature. It might even be my first explicit story I've written. So let me know if you want to be kept off the list for that one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

Things mellowed out with Robin at work. She still had the YOU RULE/YOU SUCK board, but at least wasn’t throwing out snide comments and sneering glances every two seconds so Steve absolutely counted that as a win.

And he continued to flirt badly. The worst was when Eddie and Jeff had stopped by after touring the music store.

“It’s the hat,” Steve said with moue. “It’s ruining my best feature.”

Robin snorted. “Your best feature? You don’t have one.”

Steve rolled his eyes and took off the hat. “My hair is my best feature, of course. I was the Hair in school, after all.” He threw it off the side and did a mocking shimmy with his shoulders before heading to register to greet a group of giggling girls.

“Hello, ladies,” he said smoothly. “My name is Steve and I’ll be your captain on this journey on the ocean of flavor. What can I get you today?” And then to really sell it. He winked.

The girls as he expected were completely turned off and hurried to get away as soon as possible. But hey at least Jeff got the number of one of the girls. So yay, gay wingman for the win! Or whatever.

Eddie came loping up to the counter, Jeff close on his heels. “That has got to be the most depressing thing I have ever had the misfortune to witness.”

“Seriously dude,” Jeff said with a wince. “Your mojo must have got up and went. Holy shit.”

Steve just pursed his lips and waved vaguely in Eddie’s direction. Eddie and Jeff giggled, but Robin frowned in confusion.

“Why does Munson being here affect your flirting?” she asked. “Because from what I’ve seen it doesn’t matter if he’s here or not, your flirting is always bad.”

He just shrugged. “Maybe the PTA is right and Eddie can cast evil spells and cursed me.”

Eddie wiggled his fingers at her, but she just rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. If he could cast spells Mrs. O’Donnell would be dead by now.”

The three boys cackled.

“Or maybe,” Jeff said seriously, “the girls remember Stevie here hanging out with us freaks and geeks last year and think he’s suddenly beneath him. You know, now that he’s not King Steve anymore?”

Robin’s mouth open and closed like a fish before she snapped it shut with an audible click. She blushed a dark red and was grateful that a mother with her two young sons came in just then so she could avoid the awkwardness that followed.

“I’m off in five minutes,” Steve said, “if you two want to wait around?”

Eddie and Jeff shared a glance and then Eddie nodded. “Sure, we could hang out for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said with a half shrug. “I don’t have anything to do today.”

Steve moved off to the side to start scooping the lady’s order. He gave each of the kids a cone and the sundae to the mom. Then he tossed the scooper into the warm water they kept nearby to keep the scooper clean. He walked to the back and returned within seconds.

Just then the power went out. Steve sighed and went over to the light switch. He flipped it up and down.

“That didn’t work two days ago,” Robin hissed. “And it’s not going to work now.”

Eddie peered at Steve through the dark. “This happened a couple of days ago, too?”

“It’s because of how hot it is outside,” Steve said. “Which makes the AC run overtime and it blows the breaker.” He sounded like he was repeating something someone else said as he continued to flip the switch and then the lights came back on. Just as Steve was about to leave again, Dustin came running up to Steve, skidding to a stop when he saw Robin, Eddie, and Jeff standing there.

“Hey, guys,” he said with a strained smile on his face. “Can I talk to Steve for a moment? I won’t take up much of his time. I promise.”

That got Steve’s hackles up. He turned to Eddie and begged him with his eyes to understand what this meant. Eddie tilted his head to the side for a moment, before his mouth formed an ‘O’.

“Jeff and I will be at Suncoast Video,” he said, “we’ll be there when you’re done.”

Jeff blinked at him for a moment trying to decide if it was the worth the fight. Then he shrugged and followed Eddie away from the strange tableau behind them.

Robin eyed them suspiciously as the two boys went to go sit down.

“What’s up, bud?” Steve asked, a nervous chill sliding down his spine. Please don’t be the Upside Down. Please don’t be the Upside Down. Please don’t be the Upside Down.

“So because my ma doesn’t want me racking up her phone bill calling Suzie,” he said, “I put up, with a little help from Lucas, Will, and Mike, a communications tower so we could talk.”

Because of course they did. They were geniuses when it came to building that kind of shit, but not so much in why they shouldn’t.

“And there was this weird Russian transmission,” Dustin explained hurriedly. “I don’t want to show you the recording yet, not with so many people around. But I can I meet up at your place later tonight?”

Steve was about to turn the kid down. After all, he had tried the hero racket and it blew. All he got for his troubles was ringing in his ears and the biggest break up of his life.

“Just think, if we solve this then we can be celebrated for exposing a Communist plot!” he exclaimed. “We could be American heroes, Steve!”

Oh. That did sound nice. There was no chance of him putting his body on the line for a recording in Russia after all. “Sure thing, bud.”

~

There was no keeping the stupid little transmission from Eddie or Robin. The first one wasn’t a surprise, really. Eddie was attached to Steve’s hip like he’d always been right there. Robin was more of a shock, to be honest. She just inserted herself where she didn’t belong on sheer sass alone.

Because Dustin had all the tact of a bull in a china shop, he had been whining about not being able to translate the message. When suddenly the window to the back slid open with a slam.

“You do know you’re in public, right?” she huffed. “If you’re trying to being sneaky about it, you’re failing miserably.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Like you’re so smart.”

Robin raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And how many languages do you speak, dork?”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, then tried to stifle a laugh, Steve by biting his lip and Eddie by shoving his hair in front of his face.

“Two!” Dustin huffed, puffing out his chest. “Binary and English.”

“Binary doesn’t count,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t ‘speak’ it. I speak French, Spanish, and Italian. That’s four.”

Dustin crossed his arms. “Does to and besides I didn’t hear Russian on that list.”

She tilted her head and smirked. “And how do you even know it’s Russian?”

Dustin’s jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes bulged out of his head.

“Just because it sounds ‘Russian’,” Robin said, using air quotes around the word Russian, “doesn’t mean it’s not some other Slavic language.”

Dustin’s bottom lip quivered. “And how many Slavic languages are there?”

Her grin turned feral and she leaned on the counter, looking him dead in the eye. “Eighteen if you don’t count the different dialects for each region, then you’re looking at something closer to twenty-five.”

“There’s no way there’s that many!” Dustin cried.

Steve bumped his shoulder into his. “Why don’t you let her hear it? What’s the worst thing that could happen? That she doesn’t recognize the language? It’d be no different from where we are now.”

“Come on, Dusty,” Eddie implored. “Or do I have to tell Suzie that you think girls aren’t as smart as boys?”

Dustin turned to glare at the older teen. “That’s a low blow, man.”

He looked over at Robin who was eyeing him expectantly and sighed. “Fine, here.” He handed her the portable tape deck and sat back to watch.

The message came through the small device and Robin listened to the whole thing, before rewinding it and playing it again.

“So what do you think?” Dustin asked after her third listen through. “Is it Russian?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a smirk. “And probably in code.”

But before Dustin could answer, Eddie leaned on the front counter. He had been watching Steve the whole time Robin had been listening to the recording. When she got to the end, Steve would frown. Even with half of a banana stuffed in his cheeks like a chipmunk.

“What’s on your mind, Stevie?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“There’s something about the music,” he muttered, tapping his fingers and humming the tune.

Dustin huffed. “Can you please pay attention to the important part, Steve? The apparently secret coded message in Russian?”

Steve shoved the rest of the banana in his mouth and chewed silently. He swallowed roughly and asked Robin to play the music again.

“Steve!” Dustin snapped. “What did I just say?”

Eddie glared at him. “Shut it, kid.” And Eddie began to listen to the music, too. Then Steve and Eddie made eye contact as they both got it at the same time.

Steve grabbed Dustin’s wrist and dragged him out of the ice cream shop, Eddie fast on their heels. They reached the Merry-Go-Round and Steve tried to pull out a couple of quarters but they fell to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but Eddie shoved a couple of quarters from his pocket into Steve’s hands.

Steve put the quarters into the Merry-Go-Round, while Eddie and Dustin stood by. Eddie smiled, smug and Dustin stood there, glowering at Steve, arms crossed.

The carousel roared to life. And then music started.

Dustin’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

Steve and Eddie shared a grin.

“That’s the music from the recording!” he continued. “How did you recognize it?”

Eddie laughed.

“Because I hear it at least two or three times a shift,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “It’s hard to miss because it’s so loud and so close to Scoops Ahoy.”

Dustin frowned and pouted because he had thought that Steve was just being his usual spacy self. But he actually figured it out.

As the three of them walked back to the ice cream shop, he said, “All that tells us is that Russians like carousels.”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance over his head.

��That’s an Indiana Flyer carousel,” Steve said slowly. “As in they only make them in Indiana.”

Dustin stopped short and his eyes widened in fear. “Does that mean they’re here in the state?”

Eddie shook his head. “Worse than that, Dusty. I’m pretty sure they’re here in the mall.”

Steve’s heart sank. He had been hoping that they would be able to solve this without getting directly involved, but that had just flown away like a startled butterfly.

Now all he had to do was convince himself that the Russians weren’t in Hawkins for the gateways to the Upside Down.

It was going to be a tough sell and he knew deep down it was never going to stick.

There were Russians in Hawkins and they were most likely here for Hell.

~

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING!

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

[lightlycareless]

I probably should be writing up my other requests, but I've decided to follow up on this ask and write a little drabble of how Toji and your daughter, Naomi (Naoya's the dad) met the first time. Just something silly lol. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless :) ngl i'm nervous i've never written toji before lmao.

warnings: none.

The first time he sees her was during one of his tedious, yet necessary visits to the Zen’in estate—a sulking child dejectedly playing with their toys by one of the many gardens.

The sight of children always irritated him, mostly those inside the estate because it meant they were his relatives one way or the other, and since he doesn’t really care for his “family” he barely gives the child a brief glance before continuing with his day.

The second time he sees her again would be under similar circumstances: dejectedly playing with her toys while in the same garden. This time however, in the company of someone else, presumably a staff member given their clothes.

But even when accompanied while doing what a kid could love the most (or so does Toji believe) she still looked as gloomily as ever, sulking with that pout he couldn’t see as anything else but whiny, if not brattish.

«That’s none of my business» he’d say as he moved on with his day yet again. Although the question of who could be the parent of such a miserable child settles in his mind.

Yet, his curiosity wouldn’t get the best of him until seeing her for a third time, and seemingly worse than before: moping around by one of the engawa, toys set aside, while looking down to the floor in such a depressed way Toji swore he saw the kid crying.

At this point, he just needed to know: is this child really that miserable? If so, why haven’t their parents done anything about it?? Not that he expected the Zen’in to care for the wellbeing of anyone outside “the greater good of the clan”, but if his experience was of any help, the one thing they disliked the most after disappointments, was drama.

With curiosity peaked to its highest, as well as feeling something very demure, almost undetectable, called pity, Toji decides to approach her.

“You’ve been moping around for 3 consecutive days; you better have a damn good reason to be this miserable.” Toji says, perhaps in the worst way possible someone could talk to a child; but one must excuse him, he doesn’t have much experience with kids outside of his own—and even then, it’s not that good.

Well, at least she didn’t run away at the sight of him like others have.

“d…n..t b..d… w…ds..” the young child says, no— murmurs. And in such an unintelligible way that Toji just can’t help but groan out of exasperation.

“Talk clearly.” He orders. “Why am I even trying…”

“Don’t say bad words!!” The little girl cries. “Or mama will ground you…”

“No need to yell, kid.” Toji frowns. “Anyways, is that why you’re all whiny? You grounded or something?”

The child doesn’t respond with anything else but a sniffle and a nod, before hugging her knees to bury her face in them.

“Why were you grounded for?”

“…Because I said a bad word.” She eventually murmurs again.

“I can’t hear you.” He scolds.

“Because I said a bad word!” She cries, and this makes Toji laugh.

“Really? That’s all?” He teases, still not believing her words. She frowns. “Back in my day one got grounded for a lot worse.”

Toji doesn’t know what he was expected; maybe to see her react the same snappy way his son always does, engage in a push-and-pull bickering that would just end up with him mocking her.

But she doesn’t, instead, she just stares at him for a few seconds before going back to her knees.

And that makes him feel a bit… let down.

“This got you really upset, huh?”

…

Silence.

He sighs.

“What’s the sentence?”

“Hm?” She looks up from her knees, a curious yet saddened look on her face.

“What are you grounded with?”

“…Mama said I can’t eat sweets for two weeks.”

Toji wishes to laugh, really, because this punishment was hilariously silly compared to what he expected, with a completely exaggerated reaction to follow! But… he supposes that for the spoiled kid he’s slowly starting to label her as, that might be the worst thing ever.

“Well, you’re already 3 days in. Just 11 to go.”

“But I don’t want to be grounded!” she cries. “I want sweets!!”

“Calm down, kid—it’s not the end of the world.”

“That’s easy for you to say… you’re not grounded.”

“I’ve been grounded, and with worse things too.” He says, and of course…

“Like what?”

She needs to know. Toji regrets ever saying anything immediately after.

“Uh, well, I got to do things I didn’t like either; you got it easy kid, I would’ve done anything to be punished like you were.” Truly, anything outside of being thrown into a pit of curses would’ve been a thousand times better.

“Sweets are too good.” the little girl excuses. “There’s nothing better than that!”

“They can ruin your teeth and make you all giddy if you eat too many.”

“… That’s what papa said too.” She pouts.

“Well, he’s right.” Toji says, and at the mention of both parents, he can’t help but wonder… “What’s your name, kid?”

“Naomi!” she responds instantly. “Naomi Zen’in.”

“Nao—” Toji blinks, twisting his face into a combination of surprise and… disgust? Did Naobito have another kid? At his old age? Really?? “Naomi?”

Maybe he heard wrong, but Naomi only nods excitedly.

“But everyone calls me princess.” She continues. “Because papa says I’m a princess and everyone should treat me as such!”

That… well, that doesn’t sound like anything Naobito would say, unless his old age is finally getting to him? If that’s the case…wow—Toji never thought he’d live to see this happen.

Still wants to be sure though.

“Who’s your dad?”

Naomi blinks.

“You don’t know who papa is?” She asks, with a delicate mocking tone that reassures him she’s a Zen’in. “Everyone knows who my papa is!”

“I’m not everyone.” He scowls, a reaction that rattles Naomi a bit. He sighs. “I’m not around that often so I don’t know what goes down at the estate—just tell me his name, kid.”

“Papa.” Naomi responds proudly, before Toji’s laughter swiftly wipes the joy out of her face. “…What?”

“That’s not his name” he continues laughing. “He has a name, just like you.”

“…is papa’s name not papa?”

“Like you’re not named princess, that’s what people call you.” Around the same way he’s called a disgrace, but that’s a story for another time. “You don’t know your dad’s name? What about your mom?”

“…Mama…”

“Come on, kid, you must know something.”

“My name is not kid.” She frowns, before pressing her lips together in order focus on discovering their names—to no avail.

Not even her own parents were to be of any help, since they’d always use pet names when referring to one another, or at least from what she recalled.

But there is one title that eventually manages to cross her mind, one that her mama would use when she’s feeling playful, tease her papa with it…

“Captain…?”

“Captain?” Toji raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to—”

Wait.

Captain… who holds a title like that inside the Zen’in estate? There are only two groups that he knows of that have such a position, the kukuru and the hei.

But if she was the daughter of someone from the kukuru unit, she wouldn’t be allowed to freely roam the estate, so that only leaves one—

No.

No way.

She couldn’t.

Is that why—

“Naoya?” Toji breathes. “Your dad is Naoya??”

That wimpy kid that would secretly follow him around whenever at the estate, but never approach him?

The brattish heir of the Zen’in?

The one no one liked? Not even his subordinates?

That man—that man was a father now?

Well shit, consider him rightfully surprised.

“Yes!” She grins, nodding. “Mama said I was named like him!”

Oh, now he remembers. The whole charade when his engagement was first announced, followed by his wedding.

He was invited to the ceremony too, but didn’t go, or more likely, didn’t stay for the whole thing. Just took whatever he could from there and left—he does remember thinking that it wouldn’t take long before Naoya divorced her or something…

But this little girl’s existence proved that his relationship not only endured but flourished—and given the way she spoke of him, Naoya hadn’t been as precarious as he believed. If anything, he was proving to be a better father than anyone could expect of the Zen’in!

No doubt, work of your influence; it must be, you’re still around after all…

Well, all that he could say regarding this situation was good for her. Naomi is certainly living a better life than anyone in her similar circumstances would’ve gotten.

“Your mom is Y/N, isn’t she?” Toji asks, Naomi nods. “Well, you’re certainly unexpected.”

Alongside the fact that spoiled brat Naoya managed to behave as a proper parent by punishing her daughter. Certainly seemed like it would happen from what little he was able to perceive of their family dynamic.

No wonder she was upset, this was probably the first time she had experienced the consequences of her actions. But if so, what did she do?

“Anyways, what word did you say to get you grounded?”

She shakes her head.

“No! I’m not telling! Or you’ll tell mama… just like Mariya-chan….”

Toji chuckles.

“I won’t”

Naomi continues shaking her head, not yet convinced. At least she’s not that naïve.

“Really, I mean it.” He insists. “What is that thing that always—ah, right.”

Toji offers Naomi his pinky finger.

“I pinky promise.”

And just like that, Naomi smiles, taking his pinky with hers. Well, maybe she was still naïve.

“Ok!” she nods, and without further precedent— “I said fuck!”

He chokes for a quick second, before erupting into laughter.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear right—what —what did you say?”

“Fuck!”

He laughs harder. Oh, boy was this funnier than he imagined!eHe

“What was that again? I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuuuuuckkkkk!!” Naomi whines, irritated. “Why can’t you listen?? Are you deaf???”

It’s not that he wasn’t listening appropriately, oh no, he heard her very well.

But rather, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding the way she said such common word in her little voice hilarious. It was just… funny to hear a little kid a word they shouldn’t be saying. When the kid wasn’t his, of course.

“Where’d you learn to say that?” Toji asks, doing his best to hold back his laughter, less he wants to lose this gold mine of entertainment!

“One of mama’s friends taught me! Satoru-nii” Naomi responds, his amusement dies soon after.

“Satoru…?” He repeats slowly. “As in Gojo Satoru?”

She nods.

Guess it’s not that funny anymore.

“You need better friends than him, kid.” Toji advises.

“Why? Are you better?” Naomi frowns. Well, there’s no doubt now that she’s Naoya’s daughter.

“Just saying” he shrugs.

“…I’m sorry.” She apologizes. Now that came from you. “…I really like Satoru-nii, but mama said he could be… weird.”

«That’s an easy way to put it.» Toji thinks. “She’s right, you know?”

“But he’s so funny…”

“But she’s still your mom.” Toji says; unsure why he’s even justifying you. Naomi’s not his kid, after all.

“But Satoru-nii is her friend!”

“But she’s still your mom.” He repeats. It’s a “lesser evil” type of thing. But really, he dislikes both families.

“But he’s my friend too!”

“But you—"

Toji, recognizing the pattern of endless back and forth bickering he’s slowly falling into, immediately puts an end to this conversation by muttering a low “ok, we’re not doing that.” standing up and readying his departure—but not before lightly ruffling her hair, making Naomi whine.

“Just keep out of trouble, kid.” And so, he leaves, barely allowing Naomi to respond as she’s forced to nothing but see the strange, yet oddly familiar man, disappear into the hallways.

Toji would continue to see Naomi the following days, and with the same sulkiness that made him rightfully assume she was still grounded.

The difference now is that whenever Naomi noticed him, she’d greet him with an eager wave alongside a toothy grin that initially confused him, believing it was directed at someone else, before realizing that this only happened each time he was around—so yes, it was him that she acknowledged.

And this was, to say the least, quite… heartwarming.

Yes, even a man like himself could feel such a thing—something he never thought he’d experience in his life… at least inside the Zen’in estate. To be seen, even if was by a child, and be happy about it.

He sighs.

Ok, fine. Even when their interactions were limited, he still grew a bit fond of the child. She’s still a bit bratty according to Toji’s parameters, but she’s also nice, and very funny; a very needed change for the always boring, cold, mocking, and stupid people around the estate.

So… why not? Sure, she might’ve done something wrong, but it wasn’t that bad. She deserves a break too, you know? He sure ain’t getting it for himself.

Thus, the next time he sees her…

“Here, brat. So you stop moping around.” He says, dumping Naomi with a white box. The girl blinks, far too intrigued and confused by his gift to bother correcting him. “Come on now, open it.”

Naomi doesn’t need to be told twice before her little hands swiftly rip the tape holding the edges of the box and lifting the lids, eyes soon glistening with excitement upon realizing what it was.

“For me?!” She breathes; big round eyes scanning through all its delicious contents: nothing less than chocolates.

“If you can keep a secret.”

“Mama said secrets are not good.” She frowns, Toji sighs.

“Well then, don’t keep it a secret. See if you’ll get in trouble.”

Naomi pouts, shaking her head.

“… thank you.” She eventually says, with a smile that makes Toji a bit homesick. “Um…”

“What now?” he raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know your name.”

Oh. Right. He asked for her name but didn’t introduce himself. Better late than never.

“Toji.”

“Tooojiiii” she repeats slowly, as if testing out the name before giggling. “Thank you Toji-nii!”

“No—Don’t—don’t call me that.” He says, with a scowl that isn’t really meant out of disgust, but rather… it just made him uncomfortable. He didn’t even call Jinichi that! What made anyone think he’d like it for himself?!

“Then what do I call you…?” she frowns, as if this were the most trivial thing to ponder about.

And Toji wishes to say “just my name” before moving on…

But when all the possible outcomes this window of opportunity provided appeared before his mind’s eye, his lips parted into a smile.

He might as well take a chance.

“Well, there is one way you can call me.”

By the start of the second week—not that this hadn’t been the case since the first day—you began to feel very, very regretful for having “punished” your daughter.

Yes, you knew this was bound to happen when you became a mother, and yes, as much as it was endearing to give, you also needed to take…

But oh, you just loved your cute daughter so, so much, all you ever wanted was to see her happy! And alongside the rumors you’ve heard of her behavior apparently being so pitiful since she was grounded… was it really a surprise to anyone that you’ve decided to go against your word and revoke her punishment a bit early?

She still went through a week of it, of course, hopefully enough to get the point across—Besides, it was just one small thing, surely your decision wouldn’t affect the lesson to be learned… that much, right?

At least that is what you tell yourself as you approach Naomi during one of her playtimes, calling out her name before taking a seat by her side and gently hugging her. It warms your heart that even when upset about being grounded, she’s still as lovable as ever given the way her face brightens up when seeing you and tightly hugging you back.

“What are you doing, little pumpkin?” you ask.

“Playing, mama. But I’m hungry.” She whines, you chuckle.

“Well, food is almost ready.” You lean down to kiss the top of her head. “Have you been good while I’ve been away?”

“Always!” she gasps. “…I guess.”

“Why do you guess?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Naomi has never been the unsure one. “Aren’t you my good little princess?”

“Yes… but I still can’t eat sweets, and if I can’t eat sweets, it’s because I haven’t been good.” Naomi lamented.

You give her a tight smile, kissing her one more time before taking out a small box from your obi and handing it to her; she recognized it all too well, enough to gasp and smile!

However, that excitement dies soon after when remembering her current circumstances.

“I know, I know.” You sigh, leaning your head over hers, hugging her softly. “I said you were grounded till the end of the week because we didn’t want you disobeying me or papa… but oh, I don’t like it when you’re sad!”

“…I didn’t mean to.” Naomi murmurs, your heart squeezes with adoration.

“I know, pumpkin.” You coo. “But we don’t like it when you copy bad habits from others; you’re a pretty, intelligent, lovely girl— you don’t need any of that!”

“… I’m sorry mama!” she sobs, pressing her face against your chest, you chuckle.

“Oh, I’m not scolding you, baby!” you say, gently patting her back. “In fact, I’m here because I wanted to tell you that you’re no longer grounded.”

“Re—really?!” she gasps, raising her teary-eyed face to see you. You nod.

“But only if you tell me you understood why you were grounded in the first place.”

“Yes! I understood! No more bad words!” Naomi fervently nods. “I promise!!”

“Then, let’s celebrate with your favorite!” you cheer, rubbing her tears away with your sleeve.

“Taro mochi!” she giggles, quick to open the box.

“Just don’t tell papa, ok? He doesn’t know I decided to do this on my own.”

Although you’re quite surprised he hadn’t done so himself, probably because he was away on a mission, he did tell you he didn’t enjoy seeing Naomi upset with him—how the two managed to ground her in the first place was quite the mystery itself, one that will probably never be answered.

“Promise!” Naomi nods and then, she begins to eat one of the mochi, with her chubby face beaming with delight at the return of her all-time favorite treat. Hopefully this won’t ruin her appetite too much… “Thank you, mama!”

“You’re welcome, Naomi. But don’t talk with your mouth full, baby.” You giggle, taking one for yourself. “And don’t chew too fast!”

Naomi tries her best to do what you ask, but her excitement for having her favorite sweets back overrules everything else; in that sense, she takes after you.

After she’s satisfied with the mochi, but still hungry for dinner, the two decide to make a quick stop by the bedroom to change clothes, before eventually going to the dining hall and wait for the food to be ready.

When walking towards the living quarters, Naomi would tightly hold onto your hand while telling you about her day, which often consisting of just playing with her toys under some imaginative plotline she made up for the occasion—this time: a secret spy that needed to infiltrate this heavily guarded mansion to give a fellow spy a special package.

While in true Naomi fashion, this still somehow went against what she usually conjured up, naturally prompting you to ask where’d she get such idea, perhaps from a movie?

But before she could give you an answer, Naomi suddenly stops, eyes intently focused on something at a distance, with such dedication you could only think she saw a ghost! Until a grin appears on her lips, using her free hand to eagerly wave at the person across the garden.

An innocent greeting at first, making you smile at the notion of how bubbly your daughter was.

Had she not screamed the words that made you choke, dumbfoundedly shooting up to see who it was, while wonder why she referred to him that way!

“Hello, Toji-sama!!” Naomi sang. “I’m not grounded anymore!!”

And Toji seems to have forgotten of this arrangement given the way he confusedly looked up towards the origin of that shrilly voice, not finding any correlation between the girl waving at him and himself even after seeing her… until suddenly, all comes back at him, making him chuckle and think “How could I forget?” before briefly greeting her back and moving on.

Their interactions ends swiftly soon after, and Naomi returns to her previous conversation with such comfort, it was almost as if it didn’t even happen.

But of course, this exchange, even while brief, undoubtedly created a lasting impression on you, starting an endless ocean of questions ranging from when did she meet him to why did she call him that honorific, of literally any other??

Well, if it was worth anything… this shouldn’t come to you as a surprise considering how highly Naoya thought of him; Naomi might’ve heard her father compliment him and somehow, compared him to a deity.

Still a bit… dramatic, but at the end of the day, her daughter was nothing but a child, bound to make silly innocent things like this.

So, you let this slide by chuckling and continuing listening to Naomi’s “highly secretive but very thrilling spy story” as she wanted you to “coolly describe.” before arriving at the dining hall and eating.

Believing that in the sense of seeking the remarkable, Naomi takes after her dad.

That's me trying to explain that Naomi's acceptance and eventual admiration of Toji comes from Naoya lmao. Inherited for sure :) when you tell Naoya about this he's like "WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT BEFORE?!" You ask him to not encourage her lol.

[celestialholz]

The Resurrectionist (or 'Crowley's dying briefly because character-building, and here's why')

I should start off by saying, friends, that I have written exactly zero books. (Bloody lot of fanfiction, but no actual novels). And I like coffee, but not particularly with oat milk. (The poison's metaphorical, not physical), but... well, you guys can keep both of 'em, because they're just not relevant to this conversation. I am also, as you may have already guessed, not Neil Gaiman. A chick can only speculate, but she does like to back it up with actual evidence.

No, I'm simply here to ask you a question.

What's the single worst thing Heaven could ever do to Aziraphale?

What would drive our angel so far from the clutches of Heaven that he would never, ever wish to return? What would set him unequivocally free from six millenia of assumed responsibility; what would make him realise that God can never change? What would strip everything away from him?

Because of course, this is what we have to do next series. This is Aziraphale's whole arc. If he doesn't try and change things and fail, he will always wonder. Always have a 'what if.' Will never be able to truly move on, will never be free from the eternal abuse cycle.

And so the severing has to be monumental, and everlasting. Then we get our happy ending. Storytelling, loves, done flawlessly. (Again, not a novelist... just a girl who's been writing for over half of her lifetime.)

And so, I ask again:

What's the single worst thing Heaven could ever do to Aziraphale?

And, well, it's a manifold question isn't it, with lots of potential ans - no I'm just kidding. Very simple question, very simple answer.

So congratulations to the very likely hundreds of you who have just said 'murder Crowley,' because a. you're very much correct and b. we've all just predicted the end of series three.

(... I mean, probably not the very end. But the emotional crux, definitely.)

And naturally, I'm not talking discorporation. I'm talking 'wiped from the universe altogether, leaving our angel eternally alone' kinda murder. The real shit. The good shit. Never mind any of this 'editing the Book of Life leading to an ineffable paradox' kinda bullshit - this is Heaven, the natural source point of holy water. One miracled Supersoaker and our demon's ancient history, friends.

Because y'see guys, severing Aziraphale's connection isn't the only problem we face in terms of narrative romance. We've also got Crowley, who has spent six millennia being in love with a guy who just takes, takes, takes... him for granted.

And this is NOT to say that Aziraphale gives him nothing back - he so very clearly does. (I am a consummate Aziraphale apologist, Crowley's just as much of a fool post-series two as our angel is, and Aziraphale needs this, as I've mentioned.) But... Crowley is his teacher. His moral guide. His protector. It mostly goes one way, and despite all of that and him being happy to be that guy for all this time... right when it matters most, Aziraphale (to Crowley, at least) has abandoned him. He's told him he isn't good enough.

(... Which is bollocks. That's not what Aziraphale's said at all, they're both as overprotective as each other and have a desperate, painful longing to keep one another safe in their own best way. But it sure fucking looks like it to CROWLEY, which is what matters.)

And so, we have two issues in achieving our happy-ever-after.

Sundering Aziraphale from Heaven forever;

Ensuring Crowley trusts him fully and knows completely that he is Aziraphale's only choice.

(And also by GOD do they need to have a proper conversation, but that one kinda goes without saying. It'll happen.) We have to even up this relationship; we have to make it absolute narrative equilibrium, and I am absolutely sure Neil knows this probably far better than I do.

... And so, how do we achieve both these things in one hit, whilst also telling a Second Coming story and holding a celestial war?

Well, we kill Crowley. Obviously. Not until episode five or six and after an emotional, romantic reunion of mutual understanding, but... we kill Crowley.

... And then Aziraphale brings him back. Yes, from complete death.

I would like at this juncture to remind you that miracles, apparently (and this is a thing we've just learned guys, almost like it's suddenly going to be relevant ongoing) are measured in Lazarii.

(Great thanks to the Aziraphale to my Crowley, @porgthespacepenguin, for these few screenshots I'm showing off here today. You'd never leave me, not even for my own good. <3)

Lazarii is very obviously named after Jesus' apparently greatest miracle, of raising Lazarus from the dead in the book of John. They managed to achieve twenty-five times the necessary amount of energy it takes to bring someone back from death... without actually fucking trying.

Let's take a look at the book of John a sec. Or more specifically, its eleventh chapter and twenty-fifth verse.

Jesus told her, "I am the resurrection and the life. The person who believes in me, even though he dies, will live."

My thanks to Neil once again for murdering me like Heaven's going to murder Crowley. Cold blood, point-blank.

'Who believes in me.' Huh. Only for the past six thousand years, Aziraphale dear...

Here's a little of what the internet has to say about the number 25 in numerology, by the way.

And may I also remind you at this stage that there is a pub in this series called The Resurrectionist, and only Aziraphale goes into it.

I mean sure, Crowley's booksitting and trying to make the ladies hilariously like him and Aziraphale fall in love in the same way he himself did, but the fact remains... one relevant pub name. One guy. (We all need a narrative excuse sometimes Neil, I get you.)

Considering all this, friends, let me ask you another question. This one's a little more wordy, that's on me.

What do you think would happen when a being capable of raising someone from the dead twelve and a half times over for the sake of his beloved's protection loses said beloved beyond all doubt?

... And this will be after he gains the ultimate celestial power-up, by the way. In case we'd forgotten that that alone is also about to boost Aziraphale to the fucking stratosphere, and finally put him on an equal footing with Crowley. (Who is clearly an ex-archangel, but not Lucifer, so Neil's since said.)

... And I think we know the answer, don't we? The kind of miracle that

(You can't see me, but I'm staring into the camera like I'm one of The Office main cast right now.)

This is the kind of power that fucks with reality - the kind of power that scares Heaven and Hell to absolute death, hence Metatron being in the DMs. And crucially, this miracle was boosted because of love. Because of a desire to keep the status quo, their 'own side'. You amplify both those conditions to the nth degree by destroying one of them? It's over, lads. Resurrection is the beginning.

Resurrection evens up a playing field. It destroys Aziraphale and renews him in one hit; it proves to Crowley once and for all that Aziraphale loves him exactly as he is.

... It's a no-brainer, pals.

And what do they do after this? Well, fuck up the celestial order, naturally. I have theories, the main one of them being that they're going to be God and Satan respectively and unite Heaven and Hell in eternal marriage, but... that's just a theory. A television theory.

The resurrection thing? Not so much.

... See, this is the thing, my friends. You don't need to have written a 16k essay to predict the future.

All you need is the ability to tell a story, an observant eye for that which is already present, and a simple question. (Followed by a mildly more complex one. It's a working allegory.)

... I'm just going to leave you with this one shot of Aziraphale picking up his own destiny. Because poetic cinema.

[huckleberrykai]

hueningkai - all mine

pairing: hueningkai x fem!reader summary: kai was never the jealous type until you came along. genre: toxic fic?? idk lil angsty i guess kinda?? warnings: toxic obsessive kai, possessiveness, he is um. not normal about you LOL notes: I HAVEN'T WRITTEN TOXIC KAI BEFORE EEE but i do love reading it and i've been meaning to write something like this for a while. thanku kirby for requesting this !! i hope i did it justice :3 word count: 1.8k click here for my masterlist!

kai had never considered himself to be the jealous type. not until he met you anyway.

he'd had girlfriends in the past, and while none of the relationships ended badly, he just never really figured out what was supposed to make them all that great. then suddenly you came along, taehyun's childhood best friend ~ so sweet and pure. then suddenly, he understood what love was all about.

love wasn't even the word to describe how kai felt about you. obsession was probably a better-fitting description of how you plagued his every waking thought from the second you were introduced.

you got added to their group chat not long after, and soon you were best friends with all of the members. having finally got your number, kai started texting you silly little things that made your heart flutter - he stalked all of your social media to learn every interest you had, and upon learning you loved so many of the same things as him, he fell even harder.

when he finally worked up the courage to tell you he had a crush on you, he almost cried when you reciprocated his feelings. he felt so strongly about you he didn't even know what to do with himself, and from your very first kiss he was already mentally planning ways to propose and keep you with him forever.

kai figured the intensity and 'puppy love' phase of his obsession would wear off after a couple of weeks - but every kiss, every touch, everything about you still drove him crazy, even two years down the line. you brought out a side in him no one had ever seen.

unfortunately for him, dating kai came as a package deal with 3 other golden retriever boys who loved you just as much as your childhood friend taehyun did - so it always seemed like a competition for your attention. in the beginning kai just brushed it off. in the end it was his shirt you were wearing, his bed you'd sleep in whenever you spent the night, and his lips you'd kiss before you left the next morning. but for kai, as time went on, this just wasn't enough anymore.

he knew it wasn't right to feel this way, after all none of you had done anything wrong! but sometimes he felt yeonjun's eyes on your midriff when your crop top rode up a little, or soobin laughing a little too loudly at your jokes. beomgyu was the worst, always joking about how funny you are and that you'd be better off dating him since he's such a prankster. he never meant it. kai knew that. all of his friends loved his relationship with you and knew you made each other happy, so why did he get a fire in his belly every time you so much as interacted with one of them? his least favourite was when he'd see them in your notifications. especially outside of the group chat.

he shouldn't be mad at you talking to your friends. he trusted you, but as his obsession only grew he found himself trusting his members less and less. in fact he wasn't very trusting of anyone around you.

any time you'd go out he'd always tag along, convincing you it was just to spend time with you since he loves you ~ and you, unsuspecting of your sweet boyfriend, never saw the stern look he'd give every barista, every cashier or even just person who so much as looked at you. when he looked at you you saw nothing but love, but anyone else he'd look at would get the death stare of negative kai - your own personal bodyguard with a grip like iron around your waist.

any time you'd get a call or text he'd look at your phone or ask who you were talking to. you took at as just curiosity, but kai was definitely planning on how to get you to stop talking to them as quickly as possible. he felt a little bad when he pulled you off the phone to your parents, but who cares? they were taking away your precious attention that should have been all his.

over your relationship he'd held back so much - not on loving you, but on obsessing over you. he knew you were lovely, that was plain for anyone to see - but that also meant competition. he wanted you to only ever think of him. to be half as obsessed with him as he was with you - but from your end it was all healthy. just two happy lovers <3

from the outside you just seemed like a couple in love, your parents adored him, your friends were rooting for you, everything was perfect!

after one incident in particular though, kai snapped a little.

it shouldn't really have been out of the ordinary. kai usually held back when he saw texts from other people on your phone, choosing to ignore his distaste for them - but when a message from soobin popped up starting with 'make sure you don't tell kai...' he felt his chest tighten. another one popped through seconds later, 'he'd kill me if he knew we...'

he couldn't stop himself. typing in your password, already breathing heavy and starting to cry. if it's what he thought it was he didn't know what he'd do to soobin, but he knew it wouldn't be pretty.

sooby 🐰 8:54pm

make sure you don't tell kai me and beomgyu broke the ps5

he'd kill me if he knew we threw the controllers at it to try make it work, the whole side fell off lol

oh.

"baby?" his head snapped up at the image of you towel drying your hair, only wearing his shirt and your underwear. he was still panic crying with your phone in his hand, and even though everything was fine he somehow felt angry.

"you'd never cheat on me right?" slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

you didn't even bat an eye. "no way. i don't like people to begin with, you barely made the cut yourself," you teased him and laughed. when you turned around though you saw he definitely was not joking with you - teary eyes and cheeks, red in the face, he looked like he'd just had his heart ripped out. the last comment stung him too - barely made the cut? what did you mean by that? did you not like him?

"hyuka baby what's wrong. i was just kidding, did something happen?"

he sat on the edge of his bed and you squeezed your way between his legs, standing in front of him and taking him into a big hug. you smelled like his shampoo and body wash, you were wearing his clothes. you're all his.

"no. just saw a weird text is all."

"oh? who was it? i'll block them."

"no don't. just soobin."

"oh? what'd he say?" you plucked the phone from his hands and checked through his texts, sitting on his lap. "oh kai i'm sorry, i'll help you get a new playstation." he shook his head. "no, no it's not that. just the way it was worded... the notification cut the end off and i.. i thought something was going on.."

"you're kidding right? hyuka i love you!" you punctuated your sentence with a kiss to his cheek, salty tears stinging your lips.

"'m sorry. i just don't like when they talk to you.." he admitted without much thought, playing with the hem of the fabric hanging off your body. "it's like i don't want anyone else near you. talking to you. i want all of your attention. and i dunno seeing soobin text you-"

"kai."

he looked up at you, big brown eyes wet with tears and fear. "you know that wouldn't be healthy. you have to trust me okay?"

"thats the thing. i do trust you, i just don't trust them."

"who?"

"anyone who looks at you."

"kai..."

"Y/N i've been in love with you since the second i saw you. other people have to have been the same, i just don't want other people to talk to you and you leave me. i wouldn't know what to do... Y/N please." his tears started flowing again but his face stayed still as he looked up into your eyes. you wiped his tears and pressed a kiss to his perfect nose.

"i'm not going anywhere. you're mine and i'm yours okay? no one else."

he nodded, eyes still boring into yours. he was mostly satisfied by this, and let you pull him down into bed. cuddling into his chest you opened your phone again to at least not leave soobin on read.

Y/N 🐧💗 9:12pm

he already knows lol

good luck getting your asses whooped <3

"why are you texting him again?" a permanent pout was etched onto his lips as he glared at your screen. "i'm not just gonna leave him on read, that's rude."

kai hummed distastefully. "you put a heart on there too... those are just for me."

"kai, it's sarcastic heart."

"are your hearts for me sarcastic?"

"okay that's it. what has gotten into you?" you try to sit up off his chest, but he pulls you right back down.

"answer me."

"no! of course not! i don't know what's making you act so weird right now but knock it off okay?"

he goes silent for a little bit and you settle back in against him, assuming the argument is over.

"i'm sorry. i'm just scared, you don't have to stop talking to them.. but not all the time okay? i want your time."

"and you have it. you have me hyuka... i love you. not anyone else."

you feel him press a few kisses into your hair and mumble an i love you back against your scalp. he hums to you softly and turns out the light - some sleep would calm you down.

his deep voice and soothing rubs to your back get you to settle down and cuddle with him properly, worried thoughts of kai's possessiveness melting away as you fall into dreamland.

almost as soon as you dropped off, kai's eyes were torn away from your sleeping face to your phone lighting up again.

soobin. again.

he was done with this. with the hand that wasn't wrapped around you he typed in your password, making quick work of deleting all of your contacts he didn't know, and deleting soobin, beomgyu and yeonjun. he trusted taehyun, you were childhood friends after all~ but everyone else... delete... delete...

"hmph...? baby what are you doing?" you mumbled sleepily, stirring from the phone light lighting up kai's face in the dark.

"nothing princess. it's all fine, just checking the time."

"okay. love you."

you knew this whole ordeal was a red flag, but you loved him. you thought you could change him, and so it was no biggie. this was just one bump in the road right?

and that's exactly how kai wanted you to think.

"you're all mine right?"

"mhm~ i'm all yours." you slurred back.

"all mine."

sfw taglist: @beoms-sugar @mazeinthemoon @n0-thisispatrick @strawberry-kirby @majestyjun @bibibinnie @beom-pyu @minholing @ohmahgods @txtistheloml

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have the fourth part of our rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry are friends who become lovers. If you'd like to check out the previous rec lists, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Truth Or Drink | Explicit | 5,548 words

Harry isn’t nervous. Of course he isn’t. He has done much more intimidating things than this. He has had sex with at least 100 men, and a few women along the way, while being filmed and watched by another 20 pairs of eyes. But for some reason the thought of doing this sounds a hundred times worse. He can feel his insides churning and sweat is starting to form on his palms. Sure, sex is Harry’s job and it has been for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind having a crowd of people watching him anymore, and everything is always quite professional. At the beginning things might have been a bit challenging but now it’s almost second nature. This, though, is more distressing than anything he has ever done before.

2) Incalescent | Explicit | 5,649 words

The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.

3) You Step Where Words Are Written, Delicate Under Your Feet | Mature | 6,495 words

Prompt 513: A fic where Louis gives Harry a footjob over his pants while they're watching TV and Harry finds out he has a thing for Louis' feet.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8,080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock." Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on. "News to me." "I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is." Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out. "So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

6) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10,018 words

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

7) If I Saw You Every Day Forever | Mature | 10,685 words

There really should be a statute on the number of dates one can go to because how much longer does Louis have to suffer through this? A modern AU in which Louis might have accidentally signed up for something he probably shouldn't.

8) Wait Until You're Sure | Explicit | 13,042 words

Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?

9) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words

Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

10) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13,894 words

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.

11) Bend The Rules | Explicit | 16,823 words

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

12) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

13) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18,654 words

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch. So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

14) Lonely Shadow Dancers | Explicit |20,838 words

“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.” Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same. Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.

15) The Mess We Created | Explicit | 21,099 words

An innocent one night stand changed into something more than that.

16) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23,295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

17) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33,117 words

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.  It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction. Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.  For a while, it’s enough.

18) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who's never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

19) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.

20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

21) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61,496 words

"I actually think you might be onto something.” Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean…” Louis nodded. “As crazy and insane as this, this might just solve both of our problems.” “Are you saying you’re in?” Harry asked. “I’m in.”

22) Derail The Mind Of Me | Explicit | 77,323 words

Beside the photograph of a gaunt, pale face spattered with blood and lips torn into a Glasgow smile was a bloodied object, crumpled and stained almost to the point of unrecognition. Another photo showed the object shoved into the woman’s mouth. While Harry leaned forward to get a closer look, Louis scrunched up his nose and purposefully kept his gaze locked on his computer screen, refusing to so much as glance at the gruesome images the rest of the team examined. “What is that?” Zayn frowned. “Is that a tarot card?”

23) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

24) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words

“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.

25) Love Will Tear Us Apart | Mature | 204,151 words

It was only meant to be a one night thing, but when the country goes into lockdown, Louis Tomlinson finds himself stuck in windsor castle, in company of his royal fucking highness, Harry, the prince of England.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[palmtreepalmtree]

Alright, everyone. This probably will not be a long one because... oof... but without further ado, this is...

THE WORST MOVIE ON NETFLIX RIGHT NOW

Today, I am pleased to present A Family Affair, starring Nicole Kidman, Zac Efron, and Joey King.

The premise for this very questionable movie is that Zara (King) is a personal assistant to the man-child movie star, Chris (Efron), and is horrified when her widowed mother, Brooke (Kidman) starts sleeping with him.

There's so much that's wrong with this movie, it's hard to figure out where to begin. I've watched it twice now to try to put my finger on the problem. The biggest issue here is that none of this feels particularly real -- definitely not King's acting, Efron's character, and least of all Kidman's wig.

ARITHMETIC

Even after watching this movie twice, I found myself spending way too much time trying to do some mental math in the middle to make everyone's ages make sense. Especially when they threw in Kathy Bates as Kidman's mother-in-law. Like... I think it works???

But it's fucking distracting.

The movie never meaningfully addresses the age gap between Kidman and Efron. On the one hand, sure. They wouldn't touch it if the genders were reversed. But that also feels disingenuous since Efron's character is hounded by paparazzi. You're telling me this schmuck who obsesses about his brand as an actor never has a single moment of insecurity about dating an older woman!?!?!? PLEASE.

FAKE FANTASY

It feels at times like this movie is a fantasy every which way you look at it, except for in the way that matters. As a viewer, I want to get swept up in the fantasy -- what if I had a meet-cute with a movie star!? What if I was a published novelist, with beachfront property in Malibu, and an entire closet of couture dresses that Vogue sent me and that could fit me?! What if I could afford a luxury SUV on an assistant's salary?!? What if Big Bear actually looked like that in the snow!?

The thing is, all of this falls so flat, you can't get lost in it as a viewer. And it's not funny or charming enough to keep you interested in the story or get you invested in the relationships.

HATEABLE

I regret to inform you there's not a single likeable character in this movie. The Zac Efron movie star feels like it was written from the whispers of disgruntled assistants. It's just TOO AWFUL. And while at times it can be funny, it's hard to believe that Nicole's character could ever fall for him.

Look, I don't know if you know this, but movie stars, especially ones who mostly get by on looks, are VERY CHARMING. This is part of how they get cast. But in this movie, we never see this motherfucker be charming. Not even once.

Joey's character is probably right for objecting so hard to this relationship, but she spends so much of the movie just screaming about things, it's really fucking hard to be rooting for her. Also, she's obviously a rich kid. Like MALIBU RICH.

And Nicole... like... I have so many questions... like... look I hate that this is where we're at with things, but there's something uncanny valley about her face and her hair through the whole movie. It's kinda hard to watch her or feel anything for her. That must be a wig. It must be. And it's just so awful the whole time. This is such a far-cry from how she looked in Big Little Lies. WHAT HAPPENED.

THE IDEA OF YOU PROBLEM

Look, the biggest issue here is that this movie gets wrong all of the things that The Idea of You got right. Where A Family Affair ignores the age gap, The Idea of You wrestles with it as a central part of its plot. While A Family Affair dresses Nicole in horribly unattractive clothes, The Idea of You puts Anne Hathaway in a stunning, sexy wardrobe.

WHO DID THIS TO YOU NICOLE!?!?

While both films present fantasy lives for their leading ladies (a novelist and an art gallery owner), The Idea of You seems somehow more real and thus attainable as fantasy (a craftsman house in Silverlake as opposed to a beachfront mansion in Malibu). While A Family Affair alludes to sex and romance, it doesn't have even a hint of the sex appeal and romance of The Idea of You. It's never even clear what Nicole's character sees in Zac's, beyond his body, even once the relationship has begun to carry on and clearly affect her emotionally.

In many ways, these films are mirrors of each other. Neither of these are perfect movies, and they share a lot of similar story beats and themes: the relationships, including mother-daughter, fame and celebrity, solo female success, betrayal of the spouse, and so on and so forth.

But A Family Affair is basically the funhouse mirror version of the story. It may make you giggle a couple times, but you're not going to stand there taking it in for very long. Best to just move on and forget you ever saw it.

[cherrypikkins]

FE3H OC: Kitt Burgess - Support Conversations and Artwork

From an earlier poll, I wrote support conversations for the top three characters with my FE3H OC, Kitt (they/them). I also did some semi-related artwork. :3

More reading below the cut!

Hapi – Support Level C

Scene: Forest

Kitt: That was a close call. Way too close for my liking. You're not hurt anywhere, are you?

Hapi: I'm fine. Also, I could have handled it on my own without you butting in.

Kitt: I...suppose? Though with a Demonic Beast this huge, I'd rather not take any chances. What happened, by the way?

Hapi: What do you think happened? I was in a bad mood and sighed before I could stop myself. I do that, okay? Sometimes I can't help myself, so spare me your judgment.

Kitt: Right. Okay. That's what I suspected, but I thought I'd ask you first before jumping to any conclusions. No judgment here, I promise.

Kitt: Anyway. Since it doesn't look like you're hurt, I'll just run along and leave you be.

Hapi: Um, hello? Monastery is that way.

Kitt: I... know that? I still have a patrol to finish. But I'll head back once I'm done.

Hapi: Don't you have a report to write up? On what just happened?

Kitt: You want me to report you? That would be giving the Church free ammunition against you. Is that what you want?

Hapi: No, but that's what the Knights of Seiros do, isn't it? Keep an eye on troublesome kids like me and tattle to the Church when stuff like this goes down?

Kitt: Ha. Do I look like one of the Knights to you? That's a little worrisome.

Kitt: I'll just tell Seteth that I took care of a stray Demonic Beast and leave it at that. I'm the only one who knows you were ever here, and I'm happy to keep it that way.

Kitt: Or do you care that much about the rules?

Hapi: Heh. Not if you don't.

Kitt: I thought not.

Kitt: Although, if one of the Knights gets nosy and finds you here, nothing I say will stop them from jumping to their own conclusions. So, better run along now.

Hapi: Wait. Kitty-Cat. I'm sorry I barked at you just now. You probably figured, but I haven't had the best experience with the Knights or the Church.

Hapi: I guess I thought you were just another one of their lackeys.

Kitt: Ha. That's what I get for answering their every beck and call. I'm just trying to put out my best behavior, but Goddess knows they probably have a massive report written up on me somewhere.

Hapi: Huh. So they're keeping an eye on you too, then? They really are the worst. What sort of dirt do they have on you, anyway?

Kitt: I'm not going to tell you.

Hapi: Oh, don't worry. I wasn't expecting you to come out with it. Just thought I'd try my luck.

Hapi: Anyway, thanks for saving my skin. At least I know you'll be somewhere in the neighborhood in case something like this ever happens again. Which, I'm sure it will.

Kitt: Of course. Just come running to me and I'll take care of it.

Felix – Support Level C

Scene: Training Grounds

Felix: Hey, you.

Kitt: Me?

Felix: You skipped out on training today. Again.

Kitt: Huh. So you spotted me. I was hoping to be extra careful that time.

Felix: If you're not here to train, why are you even here? All you do is waste everyone's time, mine included.

Kitt: I was just stopping by to fetch my things. I'll be out of your hair in a second.

Felix: You're looking for your knife, right? I have it here, you know. You left it behind while sneaking off earlier.

Kitt: ...So I did. May I please have it back?

Felix: They say you can dispatch a Demonic Beast with ease, sometimes even a whole nest of them, without anyone helping you. Is that the truth?

Kitt: A whole nest of Demonic Beasts? That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?

Felix: That's what I thought at first. But I've seen you fight before. Why does it seem like you're always holding back.

Kitt: Not sure I understand what you're talking about.

Felix: There you go, with that act of yours. It's like you're afraid of something.

Felix: What's wrong? Is it beneath a slayer of beasts to fight against ordinary people? Or are you trying to endear yourself to others by pretending to be weak?

Kitt: If I was trying to endear myself to you, Felix, I would have gone for a different approach.

Felix: I'll say. Your attitude is really getting on my nerves, and you're not doing anyone any favors here. This is a military academy. Not a playground.

Felix: So instead of trying to fool me, and failing miserably, why don't you show me some of that incredible power I've heard people talk about?

Kitt: ...

Kitt: Because you're not ready.

Felix: Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?

Kitt: I'm not certain you want to know.

Kitt: May I have my knife back, Felix?

Felix: Hmph. Take it and go, already. I've wasted enough time with you.

Kitt: Thank you. Maybe one day I'll let you see what fighting a monster is like.

Kitt exits.

Felix: ... And here I thought the Boar was terrifying.

Claude – Support Level C

Scene: Library

Claude: Hey, Kitt! Perfect timing. There's something I've been wanting to ask you. If you don't mind me prying a little, that is.

Kitt: -sigh- Let me guess. This is the part where you bombard me with personal and invasive questions about my life history, correct?

Claude: Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that...

Kitt: No need to dance around it, Claude, I've seen that look of yours. So do your worst and let's get this over with.

Claude: Cutting right to the chase, are we? Fine by me. Let's start with the basics.

Claude: You were born in a remote village in the southern part of the Oghma mountains, correct? Does that... make you Imperial by birth?

Kitt: Geographically speaking, yes. But there are a handful of remote communities scattered across Fodlan that neither the Empire, the Kingdom, nor the Alliance bother to keep tabs on.

Kitt: Mainly because we aren't important from an economic or militaristic standpoint.

Kitt: My village is - was - one such settlement. We didn't have ties to any of the ruling powers, and we rarely ever dealt with the outside world, unless it was with the Church. With some exceptions.

Claude: Okay. That I can understand, except for one small detail. I'm pretty sure I've asked everyone up and down the monastery. Why does it seem like no one has ever heard of your village?

Kitt: If you're caught up on recent history, you should know that my village doesn't exist anymore. It was wiped out by Demonic Beasts. Things like that happen all the time. Surely you and the others must have heard.

Claude: Well...yeah. But that's what makes the whole thing so bizarre.

Claude: If it was wiped out a few years ago, there has to be a record somewhere. As you say, things like that happen every so often, and it's not exactly secret knowledge when they do.

Claude: But I've searched just about everywhere in this library, and I haven't found anything written in the past decade about a village in the Oghma Mountains that was destroyed by monsters. Let alone one with a sole survivor.

Kitt: I'm not sure I'd call myself a 'sole survivor'. ...I mean, there could have been others, but the Knights never bothered to confirm it.

Claude: Is that so? For a disaster like that, you'd think they'd keep some kind of documentation. ...Unless the documents are missing, somehow. Do you think they were confiscated by the Church for some reason?

Kitt: I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised. Books disappear from this library all the time at the behest of the Church.

Claude: But these aren't just books written by some random dissident. These are recent historical records. Without them, it's like your village never existed in the first place! Doesn't that bother you?

Kitt: It's clearly bothering you, though I can't understand why. Exactly how far are you willing to go just to satisfy that curiosity of yours?

Claude: Well for starters, I could ask you the name of your village. It's just a name, but you'd be giving me a lead, at the very least.

Kitt: Perhaps. But that's dangerous knowledge you're chasing after. I'd rather not.

Claude: Hey, hold on a second. You said I was allowed to ask you 'personal and invasive' questions about your life history.

Kitt: True. But I never promised that I would answer them fully, honestly, or at all. The Church prefers that I keep my mouth shut, and ... it's better that I play by their rules.

Kitt: I'm sorry, Claude.

Claude: Right, well. It's not like I've done much to earn your trust. So, I don't blame you for playing it safe, especially when the Church is involved.

Claude: I guess that means you don't know the whole truth of what happened either.

Kitt: No. But I don't let it bother me. Everything about my village ... well, it's all ancient history now.

Kitt: ...Good luck with your research, though. Do let me know if you find out anything new.

Kitt leaves

Claude: Huh? I mean... For sure. I'll keep you updated.

Claude: Ancient history, huh...? Not bad for a lead.

[mumms-the-word]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love 💕

You do this to me? On my hiatus? My two weeks of posting old stuff every day so people can read it if they want???

it’s perfect timing babe ilysm

1. In Fathoms Below - Atlantis AU where Gale is setting out with the Tadfools to find an Atlantis-like lost civilization

Why I like it: it seems to be my most popular fic but it’s also the most fun to write. I have some interesting things in store once this new-fic-hiatus is over~

2. More That I Want... - Ardynn comes back from the Ketheric fight to see Halsin waiting for her in Moonrise

Why I like it: Not necessarily groundbreaking material here but it was one of the first BG3 things I EVER wrote and I just wanted to hug Halsin so bad after seeing him waiting for me in Moonrise so I wrote it as a scene

3. the new librarian - (unofficial title lol) Gale meets the new librarian of Blackstaff Academy and she is...something

Why I like it: The desire to write this came out of nowhere and seized me by the throat and I couldn't not write it. Gale and a sassy librarian? Sign me up. I had so much fun imagining these two together.

4. Four Shared Baths - Smallish oneshots of baths my Tavs share with their romance partners, all collected in one post

Why I like it: I think about this one a lot. I just love the differences between each one and I like how some baths are sexy while others are playful. There's another one that's everyone's first confessions that I like too, but it's part of the hiatus reblogs so you'll see it soon.

5. Drowning - Ardynn faces her worst fear as she saves Gondian hostages in the Iron Throne.

Why I like it: It's possibly my all-time favorite fight scene I've ever written? I like to think I'm good at action/tension in writing but this scene is just...probably my best, if I do say so myself.

Some of these are coming back as hiatus reblogs haha but that's okay. Keep an eye out for other hiatus reblogs to see what other stuff I write!!

[azsazz]

SJM Ask Game

Thank you for the tag @daydreaming-nerd !! 💙💙 (I do want to hear those redacted answers for where you put tharion lol) I feel like it's been so long since I've been on tumblr or even done one of these but I'm excited💙

1) What’s your favourite SJM book?

Hmmmm I'm gonna say ACOMAF because that's when I was first introduced to Azzy and the obsession began 💙😈

2) Which is your favourite series (tog, acotar or cc)

If you don't know me, CC is one of the worst books I've ever read. It's hard to choose between ACOTAR and TOG tho because they were both really good....

3) Who is your favourite character? (And why?)

Hehehehehehehehe. Az obviously 🥰

4) Do you have a favourite quote from one of the books?

Hmmmm...tbh not really...the ones that stay stuck in my head are the cringey ones...BUT, let's go with "Cassian shot him a glare. 'I don't see you spouting poetry, brother.' Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly, 'I don't need to resort to it.'" THAT'S GODDAMN RIGHT BBY YOU DONT 💙💙 legs spread for mah boi

5) Favourite ship?

Azris frfr

6) Elriel or Gwynriel? Or neither?

Azris frfr

7) Who’s the most underrated SJM character?

Oooof there's so many. Fenrys. I've never gotten enough of him.

8) Which character do you wish to learn more about?

Azris frfr. I want both of their backstories rn

9) Are there any characters you don’t like?

Bryce Quinlan and Danika Fendyr

10) Favourite bat boy?

My king azriel 💙💙

11) Favourite court?/ Which one would you most like to live in?

Honestly I'd probably either live in Autumn or Night tbh.

12) Favourite SJM villain?

Does Tamlin count? lol.

13) If you could change one thing in any of the books what would it be?

That CC never happened

14) Favourite SJM theory?

Azris frfr

15) Favourite Archeron sister?

Prob Ness

16) A character you feel is over-hated/ underrated:

over-rated: bryce quinlan

under-rated: chaol 💙

17) Aelin, Bryce, or Feyre?

Aelin!!

18) What’s your favourite character from each series?

Fenrys, Azriel, Ruhn

19) If you wrote an acotar book what would you call it?

A Court of Smoke and Cinders? (azris frfr)

20) Who is your favourite acotar blogger?

nah there's literally too many to choose from

21)What fics would you recommend to people who love the series?

The Serpent and the Wings of Night

Questions for writers

22) Easiest character to write for?

Azzy because i built him brick by brick

23) Hardest character to write for?

LUCIEN. IDK WHY

24) What’s a character you’d like to write for but haven’t yet?

lol who haven't i written for? hmmmm...maybe fenrys, aedion, or hunt?

25) What’s a court you’d like to write about more?

Dawn!

26) What’s a character you won’t write for and why?

hmmm...idk I'd like to say that I'd try anything once...

27) If you could only write for one character ever again, who would you pick?

azzy. nobody compares to him

28) Whats your favourite trope to write about when it comes to Azriel?

right now i think modern aus...in any sort. or anything that involves angst i love putting everyone thru some shit

29) What do you think is the best/favourite acotar fic you’ve written?

hmmmm...i feel like this is impossible to choose

30) Who are your favourite friendships to write about?

eris x anyone because this man needs a friend

31) For first time readers to your blog, which three fics would you recommend they read?

LMAO ummm...I'll list at least one for. every character

Az: Cupid's Chokehold or Midnight Muse

Cass: In Storm or Dial Drunk or Better Men Have Hit Their Knees and Bigger Men Have Died

Eris: You Know I Always Liked Playing with Fire or Hide

Rhys: Clandestine Love or Dioxazine

Lucien: The Other Woman or My Happy Ending

or literally any poly can't go wrong with those tbh

No pressure tags: @writingsbychlo @acourtofwhatthefuck @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @azrielhours @a-frog-with-a-laptop or anyone else who wants to participate!