#it's just the compulsion to FIX him jumped out

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Continuity Error 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you are the resident tech and fly on the wall, until you're not. (short!reader)

Characters: Thor, this reader is known as Stormie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Everything is neat and tidy and separate. Like everything in your life. The bento box divides rice from even slices of grilled chicken, another unit of edamame and some greens in a section of their own. Right on top of your desk with the pen cup of black pens only and the organizer with post-its sorted by colour and size, along with a tin of mint and a single notebook. Orderly.  

Unlike the rabble around you. The office is chaos. It’s noisy. It’s annoying. 

It’s not where you wanted to be in life but you never really figured out the alternative. You just try to get by. Wake up, go to work, do your job, go home, eat. Everything is precise and routine. You don’t miss a beat. Just keep going. 

That day is no different than the ones before. Fefe makes eyes at Mr. Odinson as he walks in with one of his clients. They’re all the same. Sometimes you suspect they aren’t there for business with the way they chat up the assistants. It’s not your concern; you only care when they open a spam link or forget to plug in their monitor. Work is simple. 

You mind business and people mind theirs. They don’t remember you’re there until they need help. They don’t make small talk. You don’t either. What good is that? Just wasting time when you can fix their problem in less than a minute. You learned your lesson when that guy in the glasses keep winking. 

You chew your chicken. You forgot lemon juice in your sauce. A rare oversight. 

You take small bites. A bite of chicken. Then rice. Then edamame. And finally greens. It’s a parade of flavours. You keep the order; chicken, rice, veg... 

When you finish, you get up with the lid and reusable cutlery, stacked on top of the container, and go to the break room to rinse it all out. You take your tip; washing each corner and crevice. You dry the pieces thoroughly and put it all back together. 

“That’s an interesting container,” a deep voice startles you from the doorway. 

You turn as you click the lid firmly into place. You put the container against your chest, hiding it. It’s him. The big burly blond that runs the floor. You wiggle your nose. A compulsion you have yet to unlearn. 

“Sir.” 

“May I see?” He asks. 

As he comes closer you tense up. You don’t like people touching your stuff. You’ll have to resanitize it all and your hands. 

“Unless you’d rather I not,” Mr. Odinson relents and stops a few feet from you, “I only came for a top up.” 

He doffs his mug. The stains of his early brew still around the brim. He goes to the sink and rinses it out. He doesn’t scrub or soap it before he wipes it dry quickly and puts it on the tray of the single-serve machine. That’s exactly why you don’t touch the coffee station. You bring a thermos with cinnamon tea; it keeps warm all day long. 

You nod and head for the door.  

“Are you the replacement?” He asks. “I recall you looking much different.” 

You stop and shake your head, “tech, sir.” 

“Ah, yes, I remember now. The one in the corner,” he says as he clucks and squints at the selection of boxes. “Would you a recommendation?” 

You waver. You just want to go to your desk. Your nose twitches again. 

“I don’t drink coffee.” 

“Tea? My brother is preferential to it as well.” 

You’ve dealt with his brother. Down a few floors. Not very pleasant but asks a lot less questions. 

You nod. He looks at you and brushes his fingertips along his golden beard. He’s a very large man but you suppose next to you, anyone is. 

“I should go back to my desk.” 

“And who says so? I am the boss, so far as I know,” he muses. 

You pause before you can flee. Your nose wiggles. His blue eyes catch on the movement. You stare back, unsure what to do. 

“Hm, this Colombian roast looks interesting,” he plucks out a pod. You stand there blankly. You don’t like this. He’s making you feel dumb. He’s getting in the way of your routine. “Are you available to have a look at my computer? It seems I’m having some error with the secure connection. That is, if you can make time for me?” 

As the machine grinds loudly to push your shoulders back. “It is my job, yes.” 

“Perfect, go ahead and wait for me in my office,” he says coolly, his focus on the spout. 

You retreat through the door and flit over to your desk. You open your drawer and shove the container in your bag. You turn and look over at his office door. You slowly make your way between the desks toward it.  

You pause across from the name placque on the door and glance over as Sierra watches you. You cross and push the handle down. You enter warily. You leave the door open and near his large desk. You go around and roll his chair aside. You hate touching other peoples’ things; you prefer to remote in. 

You stand as you wake up the computer. You step back and wait. It’s locked. That’s good. You shouldn’t leave your device accessible. 

Odinson enters with a waft of coffee. He smiles at you and your nose scrunches. “You will need to sign in and you can show me the problem.” You step back. 

He comes around the desk and sets the cup down carelessly. A splash overflows the brim and leaks onto the desk, the coaster forgotten by his mousepad. He pulls his chair closer and sits in it heavily, the wheels squeaking. 

It takes him several tries to login as his thick fingers are almost too big for the keys. When he’s in, he clicks around. You watch him bring up the server portal. He types again. 

“Sir,” you say. “The two-factor authentication requires you to confirm on a secondary device. You need to type in sms and it will send a passcode to your phone or whatever else you’ve set up with the system.” 

“Ah!” He snaps his fingers. “I knew it would be obvious. Clever rabbit.” He pops his index up. 

“Problem solved,” you say and check your watch. Lunch is over. 

“Thank you,” he beams. 

You leave him without another word. You find it hard to believe he was locked out when the security protocol has been in place for well over a year. He needs it every day so why is it suddenly an issue? You shrug. 

Like you said, problem solved. You can go back to your corner. 

[underforeversgrace]

beneath bone

DannyMay 2023 Day 10: Bones

title: beneath bone

words: 1125

Complete

Warnings: Semi-graphic description of major injury

~~~~~~

Maddie tucked herself further into the shadow of the building, peeking around the corner.

This metal ghost was really starting to grate on her nerves. It had been coming everyday for two weeks, challenging Phantom each time. Phantom, unable to resist a fight, has met it on the battlefield each time. If only the battlefield wasn’t the various residential streets of Amity Park, she’d happily let the two beat each other into destabilization.

“You tire, whelp?” The metal ghost shouted, blasting another missile towards the teen, who launched into the air, allowing the projectile to blast through a wall.

“Seriously, Skulker, can you give it a rest? I have things to do!” Phantom shouted, volleying his own blast towards the other ghost - apparently named Skulker - who got hit in its shoulder.

“The only thing you have to do is be my trophy!”

“Do I look like a trophy wife, Skulk?” Phantom shot back, then blinked a few times. “Don’t answer that.”

The ghosts stopped their silly pantomime after that, choosing to blast at each other. Maddie stayed hidden in the shadows, waiting for her chance, triggering the button on her weapon to start charging up.

There! She thought, jumping out beyond the wall and firing. Both ghosts whirled to her and jumped away as an ectoblast bigger than Maddie blasted towards them. Skulker successfully cleared the blast zone, but Maddie hadn’t been aiming for that one, anyway. Phantom didn’t manage to clear it, catching the edge of the blast along its left side. It yelped and dropped like a rock, slamming into the ground on its injured side and curling in on itself almost immediately and screaming.

Maddie grinned at the ghost’s attempt to pull sympathy from her, tears sliding down its young face, stolen from whatever human it pretended to be. This was a new weapon and she was thrilled to see it apparently working - seeping into the ghost’s ectoplasm like acid would flesh.

She turned to Skulker, high up in the sky, frowning at her. “You damaged the child’s pelt! I can’t skin him until that heals now!” Maddie just shrugged and pressed on the trigger again, adrenaline rushing through her at the idea of bagging two ghosts.

Dread instead settled in her stomach when the weapon whined with low power and failed to fire. This gun was still in its early stages, but she thought she’d fixed the power drain problem where it drained all in one shot.

Then it was Skulker’s turn to grin. Maddie hurried to drop the weapon and trigger the blaster embedded in the suit’s sleeve, but the ghost moved too fast, lunging towards her with a blade in its own arm.

The other ghost moved faster, though. With supernatural speed typical of a ghost, Phantom seemed to practically materialize in front of her, taking the knife to the gut at the same time she blasted her wrist ray into his back. Apparently Phantom surprised Skulker with its speed, too, as an almost comical recreation of shock formed on Skulker’s face when Phantom thrust the Thermos against the other ghost’s chest, sucking it in within a second.

As soon as Skulker disappeared, Phantom collapsed, falling onto its uninsured side.

Maddie, however, was entirely confused. Even with Phantom’s supposed protection obsession, the drive to keep existing would override even the strongest compulsion. And Phantom - injured as it was - should not have been able to jump in front of her, should not have had the drive to keep up its act, especially not to get injured further.

Maddie looked at the ghost curled up at her feet, green ectoplasm rapidly pooling around it. Honestly, the scene below her was horrific.

Her shot to its back when it had jumped in front of her was a large, oozing, close contact burn, Skulker’s knife had speared Phantom all the way through. It was her first blast that was the worst, that had her hesitating.

The wound started right under its arm and covered its entire side down to the hip. Entire chunks of its ectoplasmic flesh were missing. Which is all the ghost should be - solidified ectoplasm, goopy and loose under its fake skin.

But those were bones she saw, peeking through the deep burn. Ribs, undoubtedly. The injury was deep, burned harshly into it. And she could see its lungs. See them expanding and constricting as the ghost sobbed.

For the first time in her entire life, her heart broke for a ghost. Here, injured and bleeding green, curled up into a ball, the ghost… looked like a child.

“Phantom?” She asked, kneeling down beside the boy. Green eyes locked on her eyes and - another first for her - she didn’t think the pain or fear she saw in them was fake.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The ghost responded, trying to scramble back, only to cry out in pain and clutch its - …his? - side.

“I’m not.” Maddie said immediately, surprising the ghost and herself. She couldn’t explain it, but… being this close to Phantom after the ghost used his own body as a shield for her made her doubt some of her beliefs.

“Yeah, because you think I can’t feel pain.” He said back, though he didn’t pull away anymore. As he let ice spread across his injuries, though, she assumed he didn’t run because he couldn’t.

“Was it your obsession that made you take that hit?” Maddie asked.

Phantom groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes in a way that looked really familiar thought she didn’t think she’d ever seen him do that.

“Obsessions aren’t a real thing.” He responded.

“What? No, that’s impossible, it’s a fact of ecto science. Ghosts are driven by obsession.”

“A fact of ecto science is also that this shouldn’t hurt,” Phantom shot back wearily. “I do what I do because I choose to do it. You don’t get to take that away from me by making it something I’m forced to do.”

Maddie just sat there, staring at the specter in front of her, so familiar but also somehow… not at all familiar to her. As he pressed his hand to his side, continuously releasing ice into the first injury she’d caused, all he could do was stare at the bit of lung she saw behind white bone. The rise and fall of his chest.

She didn’t want to acknowledge the three thoughts that slammed into her mind at that.

At some point in the past few minutes, Phantom had become a he in her eyes.

He couldn’t flee her because he couldn’t move, because she had hurt him.

He was a dead child. Yet he drew breath.

The rug had been tugged out from under her and she was free falling.

Would she ever land?

[doberbutts]

Mondio homework:

Stationary front feet when changing positions. He does it well for sit to stand and reverse, but not for down to stand or reverse. Sits nicely from a down, has a hard time piecing together that he needs to stand in order to down from a sit. Got some advice on a diy foot target of the correct size, as mine are too big.

Send out shelf acquired (thank u training director for making me one).

Carpet squares for jump acquired. At some point I'll get a jump frame to send him through so he can chain the behavior together, but at least I can teach him to touch the pads and down immediately in the mean time.

They complimented our stays, really the biggest thing is now we have to work on absence of handler and I kind of need a spotter for that.

A few tips and tricks to fix the hold portion of our retrieve, and then we'll string it back together and generalize to more than just the dumbbell.

Started food refusals, again I need a second person for this mostly. But a nice, non-conflict non-compulsive way to teach, when all I really knew how to do was pet leave its (which he has) and zapping the fuck out of him on the collar (which I am unwilling to do), so I hadn't started it yet.

Went over the brevet exercises, probably 2 or 3 more decoy weekends building him off the tug and onto the sleeve and from there onto the suit, and then we'll start putting together the exercises he needs for his brevet.

Goal is to start seriously considering titling at 2-3 years old but we will see! I do want to get his CGCs and put a BH on him for funsies and it'll help some stuff his breeder wants to do with him. His temperament tests will come with time, I'm not particularly worried about it. He likes to bark and bite and act like an idiot when he sees a decoy so it's w/e. People compliment how little he cares about stuff they do to him so I don't really see it being a problem outside of age-related weirdo behavior.

Hopefully if we do the BH the judge won't twitch too much at his heeling because it is VERY contact heeling and IGP does not like that lol

[drhu0806]

8. "Are we happy?"

Fandom - Infamous IF (fanfic) Content warnings - none Pairing - O/Orion x MC

Orion knocks on the door. “Come on, Luna, it’s almost time.”

He compulsively checks his watch, counting down the mere seconds before the door opens and their lead singer emerges, preened and ready for the show. She comes out in a bright red blazer over a white shirt, conjuring the illusion of elongating her legs with sleek black pants nestled within tall black boots with sharp, almost knife-like heels that he’s mystified how she can walk in. Exhaling, she nervously pushes her hair down for some last minute grooming.

“Okay, okay, I’m decent. How much longer?”

“About ten more minutes.”

Luna adjusts her collar, mostly fidgeting in an effort to burn off some excess energy. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Orion staring at her intently. She knows that look all too well, turning to face him with a small sigh.

“Alright, what is it? What did I miss?”

His eyes dart up and down her figure. She’s accented the outfit with a black tie wound around her neck, but the knot looks off and unbalanced. “Your tie.”

Ah, this dratted thing. Even after careful study of several online videos, Luna knew she was unlikely to get it right and just did her best. Clearly her best still left a bit to be desired.

She looks down and back up, a silent request in her eyes. If there’s anyone in their little entourage who knew how to properly tie one it would be Orion, a steadfast paragon of professional wear. And he knows her too well to not know what she wants him to do. He raises a hand, hesitant.

“I could...fix it if you want?”

Luna eagerly nods, leaning in. He reaches forward with firm, sure hands, righting her mistakes as he deftly re-loops the necktie. She can barely hold back a small shiver when his fingers graze against the skin of her neck, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. Orion’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, but his pace slows, dragging his movements out, as if he’s… savoring.

“I’ll show you how to properly do this later,” he mutters.

“Oh, does that mean I get to practice on you?” she quips back immediately, her eyes glimmering mischievously as they linger on the beautiful curve of his neck.

He breathes out, long and heavy through his nose, but the corner of his lips twitch as he slides the knot up and gives it a final tug to secure. “I’ll consider it.”

“Oh my god you two, get a room,” Iris groans from behind them. They jump apart, but not before she throws Luna a playful wink. Next to her, Rowan takes a moment to pretend to gag, covering up a laugh.

In an effort to save face, she spins around and holds her arms open. “There. Now I'm decent. Are we happy now?”

Rowan gives a thumbs up before pulling her forward. “Happy as a clam. Now come on, you got another show to put on before you can give out any private performances,” he teases, eliciting a laugh from her and a cough from their manager. They gather around the door that leads out toward the back of the stage, and Luna throws back another look towards him before they step out. Orion nods, a small smile slightly more apparent on his otherwise stoic exterior, before he watches them file out. Before following after, he sighs, tugging at his own tie to loosen the hold around his neck. God, he’s really going to have to work on this more, isn’t he?

[charmwasjess]

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

AHHHH! SO fun!!! Thank you, Geode! :D

What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Given my WIP addiction, I'll tell you I'll never write it and then accidentally start writing it next week. :D

But probably Sith Master Sifo-Dyas and Sith Apprentice Dooku AU - I love their fucked up dynamic, but let's be real, this would turn into PWP. Oh, that, or a Tales of the Jedi fix-it, where Dooku actually escapes Sidious with Yaddle, and ends up training Anakin.

Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

Oh, um, yes, all of them!! :D I'm a compulsive rereader. If there's a fic I've left a comment on, I've probably reread it a few times (and will be going back to reread it a couple times more!) The one that jumps to mind especially right now is @purple-ant's Pray My Mind Be Good to Me - I'm helping with beta translation so I've gotten a lot more of it than is currently posted and I'm spending a lot of time thinking about it both as a reader and as someone who has been privileged enough to beta. I don't want to spoil anything, but it… it is asking some really fucked up, gorgeous questions about love, shame, hate, survival, and... and love. I'm really intensely interested in how the story is playing with those themes.

How much planning do you do before writing?

A lot!!! ….which actually, generally involves a lot of writing. I write out big pieces, usually wildly out of order, and then if the plot is coming together, write out a really incoherent outline/list of notes/scraps of dialogue. And when I say incoherent, I mean… this is an example from a fic I'm working on:

What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

I keep wanting to share a funny line because I think my favorite stuff is actually my dialogue, when Dooku and Sifo-Dyas get going back and forth like they do, but I really like this line from Five Days to Murder Sifo-Dyas because it's kind of my thesis statement for all my fics. It's hard writing hopeful stories about doomed characters who are set in a particularly doomed era - you know, what's the point of loving prequel era characters if they all constantly lose and fail and suffer?

“Sifo-Dyas.” The half-Sith studied him, emotion billowing like volcanic clouds. “You aren’t a fool. Why did you come here if you knew that might happen? Why did you remain my friend for decades of our lives if you always knew that this was a possibility?” His voice rose almost to a shout. “Why are you still being kind to me?!”

The words rang around the huge, empty room, like a challenge that went unanswered.

“I didn’t believe it would happen back then, and I still don’t.” Sifo-Dyas told him, looking down into his mostly-empty bowl. “And even if I did, why would I throw away decades of true friendship just because of a potentially uncertain ending? If you murder me right now, will that go back and erase the times when we were genuinely happy? Stars, remember the day of our Choosing tournament, when you wouldn’t let me lose, and we fought the most absolutely perfect duel?” He still smiled at the memory, even now, all of these years and chapters of sadness later.

“I remember.”

“Life isn’t any less incredible just because there’s death waiting at the end of it, even a bad death. The beauty doesn’t go away because there’s also pain. Even after a great loss, the love lives on.” Sifo-Dyas hadn’t meant to bring up Qui-Gon, but he could sense they were both thinking of him.

When he spoke, Dooku’s voice sounded slightly rough, as if his throat were still bothering him. “I do not think that normal people would see it that way.”

“You and I could not be further from whatever ‘normal people’ are.”

[bigratsdeservebigpats]

Scavenger Hunt

Riddle x GN Reader/Yuu

I was possessed and had no choice but to write this or DIE

Also I made each of those fucking riddles by HAND AND IT WAS SO MUCH EFFORT FOR NO REASON

cw: none, just fluff :)

Treasure hunts, Riddle thought, were wastes of time. The idea of choosing to embark on a wild goose chase, for whatever reason, just didn’t click for him. Its supposed thrill never sat well with him, because who voluntarily gave themselves stress? If they found time to fool about, they certainly had time to do something more productive.

Yet on the rarest of occasions, today his schedule lay barren. It wasn’t as if it was the only box empty on the calendar, but his students seemed to be more than willing to take slices off his workload. Even Ace and Deuce, the troublemakers they were, forced bright grins, crisp uniforms buttoned and collars flat. Something was definitely up. 

Trey, as reliable as he was, could only smile placidly. Knowing the housewarden, the sudden shift in everyone’s attitude would only cause needless worry; yet Yuu insisted that ‘he’ll love it!’ This little surprise took days to plan, with them dipping in and out of the dorm’s halls to plan this one perfect day, and a small card along to go with it. He wasn’t so rude to open it, but even if he wasn’t one for theatrics, there were a few guesses on what was written. Waving the white and red envelope, he adjusted his eyeglasses. “Riddle, the Prefect left you a note, if you want to read it.”

“Oh, so this was their doing.” Even if the vice housewarden needed glasses, he could plainly see the way Riddle’s face softened, as if it was obvious now. Gloved digits plucked the letter delicately, admiring the rosy sticker decor that kept it sealed. Letters should always be sealed with hot wax and a stamp, then opened with a proper letter opener outwards from the body; but he’ll forgive their minor blunder, on account that Yuu didn’t own any wax or stamps. Perhaps he would gift them some, so such an oversight wouldn’t happen again. The letter itself was penned on thick stationery, velvet under his touch and adorned with the same glossy rose stickers. 

To my Rose Ruler, 

Good morning! I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. You must forgive my informality, I’ve never actually written a letter, so this is kind of embarrassing for me. I’m not sure what to write, and I pen down all the words that come to mind first, like how I wonder what you look like reading this. Are you confused? Perhaps even smiling? 

Just as they mentioned it, Riddle felt an unfamiliar tug in his cheeks. As if it was Yuu that stood before him instead of his vice housewarden, a fist obscured the pink in his face as he cleared his throat. Grey eyes continued to read their letter, quietly noting their astuteness. 

I have a feeling it’s the former, so I will fess up – If you can find me, that is. Below is a riddle for you, 

I hide amidst friends   Around twists and bends. Bring me my favorite Riddle, I wait for you in the middle.

 Yours Truly, 

Yuu :)

Ah, a puzzle, was it? The riddle was simple enough, cheeky even, just like something Yuu would write. ‘Around twists and bends’ and ‘I wait for you in the middle’ had to reference the maze. The Rose maze, of course. ‘Hiding amidst friends’ was obviously a play on the phrase ‘rose buds’. But the third line made his heart jump. Their ‘favorite Riddle’, could it really be… him? No, well yes! He couldn’t just overthink like this, but between the riddle on the paper and the Riddle holding the paper, he would obviously be the favorite! Or so he hopes. 

It would be smart to bring the letter just in case. 

When busy, he would find moments of peace between the pages of work, where his gaze fixes on a single sliver of blue sky. When he was younger, perhaps there was some compulsion to enjoy its beauty, but on the day he once longed for, he couldn’t spare a single glance. Because they were waiting for them, right where they said they would. 

“Hey there, Riddle darling.” Their grin infectious, accompanied by a wave of a hand so carefree. “Let me guess, you solved it in less than a second?”

“I… yes, but to your credit, you did stump me on a part.” Riddle cleared his throat, a habit that seemed to pop up just about every time Yuu was mentioned. “But I’m here, So if I may…”

“Yes yes, apologies for my assumptions, but you’ve looked especially stressed these past few weeks, and I wanted to give you a day of break, just a little fun or something.” Another wave of the hand, dismissal instead of greeting, yet with magic (or some directional illusions), a slip of paper appeared between their fingers, cardstock, was it? 

“Is this… a treasure hunt of sorts?” He raised a brow, eyes trained on their bright smile. 

“Well, treasure isn’t exactly the word I would use to describe it, to be honest. More like a Scavenger hunt, but here’s your next clue. Don’t solve this one in one second please-”

Quieter than ghosts, 

A building with the most stories it boasts.

Where knowledge flies higher than birds,

In a pile of words.

“The library.” This one was eons easier than the last, and the first was already pretty simple. All he needed was the first two lines to solve it, but seeing their expression, should he have at least pretended to think about it? 

Recognizing their plight, Yuu only shrugged. They didn’t look as distraught as Riddle worried, thank goodness. “Well, I must have made it too simple. Do you want to hold onto the card?” 

“I don’t think I will need it.” While he found the concept a little ridiculous, he would never just abandon their hard work. The card is situated in his pocket, right beside the magic pen, where all important things go. 

The library fell near the center of the school grounds, a bit of a walk to be honest, but he never minded it. Now it feels just too long, and far too quiet. Was he supposed to say something? Anything, really. As unbothered as Yuu looked, perhaps they found him boring? No, who would go out of their way to do all this for someone they found boring? “Prefect, I appreciate all that you’ve done, but you never had to go to these lengths.”

They eyed him, and at first he worried that he hurt their feelings. No one wanted to be told that their work was a waste! He should know this, beyond anyone else! Yet an angel of kindness they were, smiling at him like he was the silliest person in the world. “Oh you, I never had to, but you make me want to do all these things and more, Riddle.”

Ah. Well doesn’t he feel tweedledee and tweedledumb. A hand moved to cover his mouth again, cloaking the red of his cheeks under the guise of clearing his throat. They must think he’s getting sick with how often he does that. He looks over at them again, feeling like his heart was in full bloom by just how sincere they looked. Best to not tell him just how red his ears are. 

The library included several rooms to house different sections, but only the west wing had the floating books mentioned. Regal candlelight chandeliers lit the hall in a dim green, pillars of wood breaking away to the quiet abode of the history section. Yet nothing seemed different. Well, it shouldn’t if there was something he had to find, but he didn’t know what that was, it was a situation worse than finding a needle in a haystack. “This was the answer, wasn’t it?”

Yuu only shrugged, fingers running over the leather backings of old texts. A sly smile crossed their face, and he knew that oddly enough, he got bested. “You have the clue, there's no saying you can’t look twice.” 

Fishing the card from his pocket, once more grey eyes cross over the words. On closer inspection, certain letters were written over twice to stand out. L I G H T. Light? What could that have to do with anything? A quick glance at Yuu gave not a single hint, and he approached one of the small wall-mounted lanterns. Hesitantly, he held the card up to the flame, and he peeked once more, relieved to see their smile. 

Through the paper, two tones glowed. His heart burned a flame of pure exhilaration at the sight. Another rose emblem, carefully cut out and sandwiched between two pieces of paper so that it wasn’t noticeable unless… Red hair whipped to the side as he scanned the books floating in the air. This intoxicating delight, it felt as if it was smothering him in anticipation, bursting with an audible gasp as he finally found the one book emblazoned with the very same rose. He could hear his heart in his ears as he fumbled with his magic pen, desperate to get his prize.

“You’re breezing through these way too fast, Riddle.” Yuu finally spoke up, obviously delighted to see his excitement. “It’s a storybook about the Queen. You said you’ve read all the classics, and not a lot else, so I thought… I thought you might enjoy it.”

There was a hint of hesitance, he could recognize that same careful tone that his students would use. But he adored this little gift, his first storybook, given by the one that cared so dearly. “Yes, I… Thank you. I will be sure to treasure it.” 

Inside the first page, another paper slipped out. Much thinner so there were no more light tricks, but that was fine, he was having a ball. Even now he could still feel the endorphins blazing through his body. More? Really? Could his heart handle all this thrill? 

Three face four;  

Proud and tall, 

Look above all.

The one you’re under

Will it hold the next clue I wonder?

This one was far vaguer than the last. But certainly not impossible. Certainly not, once reread the first line. 

“The seven statues on Main Street?” Already beelining to the door, Yuu trailed behind, barely keeping up with the surprising speed of the dorm leader. “Is it by the statue of the queen?” 

“Well I can’t tell you, that ruins its purpose, doesn’t it?” 

Thank goodness it was just outside, even if the stretch felt longer than what could possibly be normal. The queen’s statue stood closest to him, carved stone echoing the same face present in all history books. Her chin tilted up towards the sky, bathed in the warm sun, yes, this had to be the answer. Just beside her stone figure, a small table cloaked under a red cloth with porcelain tea cups and where a slice of strawberry tart sat under a glass dome, along with the next clue. “Prefect? Is the tart for me…?”

They had to jog to stay with him, folded over to catch their breath from the unforeseen exercise. For someone with short legs, he sure was fast. Not that they would ever mention it aloud. “Well gee, I don’t think I would have made anyone else a tart, Riddle.”

“You made it?” Perhaps it was rude to sound so surprised; Trey bakes sweets all the time for Unbirthday parties and the sort, but this was different. Yuu wasn’t a patisserie, nor were they obligated to bake for him. “Yourself?”

“Yes, with lemongrass tea and two sugars to wash it down. Rule 393.”

It was actually rule 339, but he couldn’t even bother to tell them so, using his fork to cut off a corner of the crust and bring the slice of tart to his lips. That buttery and crumbly crust, the creamy filling that tasted just slightly too sweet, and a delicious fruit glaze, he almost wished all tarts tasted just a little too sweet. 

The last card sat pretty, pinned under a teacup and a cube of sugar. Lifting it from under the two, he brushed off a few sugar granules to read its contents. Thank goodness he wasn’t drinking his tea at the same moment.

I live behind your magic pen, some say I am made of gold.

I give you this, something you cannot hold. 

I wish this game would never end

But I think it’s time to say, I like you more than a friend.

Again and again, he read those four lines, as if the light was playing a silly trick on him. Each time he was sure that something would be different, but he knew the answer. Both answers. 

“It’s heart,” Riddle mumbled, clearing his throat louder than he ever had before. He couldn’t look Yuu in the eye, adamant that something within him might explode if he did. With how red his cheeks were, perhaps something already did. “And, I also, like you… More than I can admit.” 

“Yea, I know.”

[maygranted]

I saw your post about Buck being OCD-coded! Can you please say more?? I’ve always read him as being ADHD-coded and I’d love to hear more!

omg ofc i’d love to! i do apologise for how long this post is going to be 😭

so to start off, this all began bc my friend (who has adhd) really related to buck and i (who has ocd) also really related to him so we were like hmm wait a second… adhd AND ocd???

anyway i think one part of him that’s just v ocd coded to me (but also definitely is in combination with rsd from his adhd) is how he tends to catastrophise situations. like he has such severe abandonment issues to the point where he actively obsesses over it, here’s an example !!!

BUCK: Starts out small. Uh, she's-she's canceling plans. She's got to work. She needs to wash her hair or do her laundry, and before you know it, poof. Dropping them off at the airport and never seeing them again.

HEN: Okay, Buck, you're being a little too Buck about this.

like it’s just a very irrational line of thought and u can see how hen says oh you’re being a little too buck abt this bc it’s common for him to exaggerate situations he obsesses over in his mind. and then in turn to alleviate this anxiety somehow he begins to cling bc all his irrational thoughts are telling him that people will leave

and then ofc there’s the situation where after chimney’s left he feels so heavily responsible for it (responsibility ocd ) to the point where he says he’ll leave the 118. like that’s such an irrational line of thought that his mind has catastrophised from obsessing over it.

and then also the tsunami episodes <3 like ofc he feels responsible for chris it’s a normal response but the way he actively obsesses over losing chris and that that makes him a terrible person and he has such severe guilt over it is just v moral ocd and responsibility ocd to me? so he searches for chris to the point where he’s severely dehydrated and bleeding and he still doesn’t stop that’s just a v obsessive thing to me does that make sense??

here’s an explanation of hyper-responsibility related to ocd, which btw sounds very buck coded to me:

But what happens when someone overestimates their responsibility? What happens when someone feels that they can control things that they cannot actually control? These feelings might even seep into relationships—feeling like they can control how someone else feels, or feeling that they are responsible for making everyone happy or content. This can create people-pleasing patterns and make them constantly feel the need to put others’ needs in front of their own. This can look like saying yes to things they do not want to do but feel they need to do, lest someone get upset with them. Or, they may think, “If I don’t do this, then something bad might happen.” […]

Anxiety and guilt are often at the root of an inflated sense of responsibility. The person with OCD thinks of all the possible repercussions of not acting in a particular scenario. They feel guilty for possible negative outcomes, often engaging in magical thinking—believing that their ideas, thoughts, actions, or other things can impact the world around them. This results in compulsions, which can take on many different forms; for some, it may involve very detailed rituals they feel they must perform to prevent something very specific from occurring. For others, it may be a vague need to do something “just in case” or to feel like everyone will be safe.

and then ofc there’s my gifset where he’s developed a compulsion bc he’s scared he’s still in a coma so he has a list of things he checks </3

anyway i feel like a huge part of this is definitely also projecting bc i personally struggle with moral ocd and responsibility ocd and a lot of guilt bc of that but it’s just something i’ve noticed a lot with buck, how his mind is constantly jumping to the worst, most irrational conclusion (and irrationality IS a huge part of intrusive thoughts) and so in turn he either feels the need to fix it (bc it’s HIS responsibility in his mind!) by distancing himself bc he’s the problem or clinging. trying to fix something that isn’t even a problem that needs fixing or isn’t even ur responsibility to fix is just a very ocd coded thing to me <3 and i think a lot of this is definitely more related to mental compulsions which a lot of people don’t really know abt and instead assume ocd is just the stereotypical compulsions (washing hands, organising etc which ARE ofc things that happen but it’s not just that!) so he v much falls into that “irrational thought / obsession” —> anxiety, uncertainty, guilt —> compulsion (trying to fix shit, apologising, reassurance) cycle u see with ocd.

i hope this made sense somehow and ty for asking, as u can see i love talking abt this :)) also it’s absolutely ok to disagree with me on this, it’s just something i personally noticed and really identified with due to my own ocd, i just hope i did a good job of explaining it!

[contreparry]

Happy Friday Ann! For your Trevelyan x Cullen (or anyone else!): wait, let me fix it for you. 🥰

Absolutely! I’ve got just the thing @dadrunkwriting !

Her braid was coming loose. Tendrils of hair escaped their bonds like water pouring through a sieve. She never could quite figure out how to dress her hair fashionably- it was too slippery and smooth, unable to hold a pin or a clip without it eventually falling out. Lydia teased her about it often enough: I never fear losing you in a crowd, Evie dear. I only need to follow the trail of hairpins to track you down!

Evelyn sighed and pulled the hair ribbon out of her failed coiffure. It was a lovely ribbon, red as ripe cherries, and one of her favorites. It was one of Sera’s little presents, one she slipped into Evelyn’s desk drawer when she wasn’t looking. If only she could figure out how to keep it in her hair! She would hate to lose it.

“Wait,” Cullen said. Evelyn nearly jumped at the sound. She had been so absorbed in her own musings that she had forgotten where she was. Cullen’s office had become something of a refuge. He took his work seriously, just like her, which made it so much easier to focus when she wrote letters or looked over reports. Frankly speaking, it was easier to discuss business pertaining to their military forces in person. Besides, she worked better when there was some small amount of noise. It reminded her of Ostwick’s study halls and library: the scratch of a pen on parchment, the rustle of papers, the crackle of a fire- it was comforting, and comfort was in short supply these days.

It helped that Cullen was… nicer than she first thought. It made her flush red with embarrassment whenever she lingered too long on those sort of thoughts. That he was attractive was never something she questioned. It made her warier of him initially. Saintly Templars who looked the part could get away with much more than their less beauteous compatriots. But Cullen had proved himself to be… worthy of some measure of trust. He saved her cat. He was concerned over her welfare in such a way that Evelyn believed- wanted to believe- that he cared about her beyond her usefulness. And he… he understood things. There were parts of Circle life that only a fellow Mage or a Templar knew: the near-compulsive tidiness that such a rigid life demanded, the way you had to peek around corners out of fear you would cross the wrong sort of person, the bone-deep fear of isolation-

That was probably why he didn’t dismiss her when she began taking her paperwork to his office. Maybe he was as lonely as she was. And there was a kindness she hadn’t thought she would find in him. He had a chair and table brought in so she could work by the fire, and the tea kettle always had water inside by the time she arrived. It wasn’t flowers or poetry, but the gestures won her over anyways. And that was a secret she would take to her grave- her messy, miserable yearning for Cullen Rutherford would be buried alongside her bones when all was done.

“… yes?” Evelyn asked, all too aware of Cullen‘s eyes on her. What was that expression on his face? Too neutral to be pitying, too warm to be annoyed- she couldn’t quite figure it out. He seemed… amused, somehow, as if her fumbling about was something charming instead of silly. Thank the Maker he was a sensible sort. One of them had to be.

“Let me fix it for you,” Cullen offered, and at her hesitation he hastily amended his statement. “That is, I have some passing skill at braiding. And you have ink on your hands.”

The stain was long dried, but Evelyn wouldn’t point that out. Instead she offered up the red hair ribbon and the wood comb she carried in her pocket next to her botany journal.

“You can’t possibly muck it up worse than I do on a daily basis,” she sighed. Cullen took them and gestured to a wooden stool.

“Sit down. This may take a while,” he said, all business as he combed through her hair. It was… nice. Pleasant. He didn’t rush like her Ostwick peers, and he didn’t tug at her hair like Lydia did. Instead Cullen carefully pulled apart tangled strands and brushed them aside, combing each section patiently. Gently.

No one had ever taken their time with her hair like this. Not even herself.

“You can keep it simple,” Evelyn said, feeling terribly self-conscious as the time passed them by. “My hair isn’t very good at holding a braid. Or anything, truth be told.”

“This will hold,” Cullen replied, as if it were an oath. If it was an oath it was an odd one- but it was like him to make impossible promises and deliver on them. I will keep your cat safe. We will unravel the mystery behind the Rifts. Your braid will stay braided. His fingers took up strands of her hair at the side of her face and began to weave- first one side, then the other, until they joined at the back. His knuckles brushed against her cheek, a momentary touch, but it lingered on her skin even as he murmured an apology and continued his work.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Evelyn remarked, desperate to say something to distract herself from the intimacy of his hands, his presence, his unbearable consideration.

“I braided my little sister’s hair. Had the time and patience the rest of my family lacked, I suppose. Rosalie was a tender-headed mite,” Cullen fondly reminisced. “After that, well… just kept myself in practice. Braided fellow recruits hair when they were in the infirmary, things like that.”

“That was… is… kind of you,” Evelyn said, even as her heart sank- but this was a good sign, yes? They were comrades, and this was simply a way of taking care of a- a friend! What a relief it was, to know she fell under the category of ally instead of prisoner, friend instead of charge. It wasn’t special! It was simply… a kindness.

“Everyone needs to be taken care of at some point,” Cullen replied. “There. That should do it.”

Evelyn reached back to touch her hair, her fingers running over every twist and bump in the braid. Not a hair out of place. She dropped her hands to her sides and stood up.

“Thank you. Perhaps I’ll finally look presentable,” she joked. Easier to joke than to be sincere- it was a page she ripped directly from Varric’s playbook, and she desperately needed Varric’s grace and charm right now. Cullen was looking at her again, as if she was a particularly ornery chess puzzle that he was determined to solve. If she lingered any longer in this place he might just find the proper piece to move, and Evelyn might not be able to survive the humiliation of being found out. To the grave, she would take this to the grave!

“Everyone needs to be taken care of,” Cullen said softly. “Even you, Evelyn.” The fire set his hair ablaze in a golden glow, a crown of light that only seemed to emphasize his soft brown eyes and the concern- concern!- in his face. If she took one step forward she could touch him. If she fell into his arms he would catch her. And then-

Saintly looking Templars are the most dangerous ones. Run.

“I’ll manage. I’m good at that,” Evelyn replied brightly- too brightly. The words were brittle in their brightness. Run. She scooped up her paperwork and tucked her pen and ink bottle into their proper pouch at her waist.

“Thank you for letting me work here. And for fixing my braid,” Evelyn added before racing out of the door. But even in her haste Cullen had to have the last word, and his tone couldn’t be interpreted as anything other than mournful.

“No one can manage forever by themselves,” he said, and that voice haunted Evelyn’s every step as she retreated to her lonely quarters in the keep.

[summery-captain]

S1E2 - "Lost and Found"

More AuADHD traits Dirk displays! First episode analysis here

Once I'm finished I'll do a masterpost and link it in my fixed post

I'd like to mention that @goatygoat said Dirk is also alexyrhitimic (has a hard time/can't recognize their feelings and emotions) and I absolutely agree!! It is also exemplified, as they mentioned, by Dirk going "I might it might bother me more later, when I'm less... Something" in S1E1. I also agree with @urlocallesbiab saying dirk is a compulsive liar (he repeatedly lies about his past and then corrects himself)

--

- When Todd and Dirk are hiding behind a bush watching Rimmer's house, Dirk goes on a mini rant: "It's interesting actually because hammerhead sharks aren't usually aggressive towards humans!" - he remembers specific facts and mentions them in casual conversation as if rehearsed, and also might indicate a special interest in sharks or animal related facts

- To get Todd to follow him into the house, he 1) runs into the house while the garage door is going down and 2) proceeds to throw Todd's lotto ticket into it - he acts before thinking, so to speak, a lot of times being very inconsequential

- He mirrors/mimics Todd's actions when they get inside the house - it's very common for autistic people to mirror their peers when in a situation they don't have a lot of control in or have never been in before. In this scene he imitates Todd's stance, then goes on all fours like him, and then copies how Todd looks into the corridor to try and see Rimmer

- When he recognizes Lydia, he starts jumping up and down and "screams" without making noise while pointing at her - of course it's understandable that given the situation anyone would go "!!!!" but I find important to note how Dirk always stims, even in small ways. In this specific case, he stims through the repetitive movement of going up and down and also seems very taken aback/confused when Todd interrupts that to push him into the bathroom as to escape Rimmer noticing them

- After running off from the house, Dirk starts blabbing off, completely nervous - it's very common for ADHDers/Kinetic people to just go on a rant a mile a minute when nervous, be it to stim, to process what is happening, or just a momentary loss of control over speech (going too fast).

- In the bathroom when Todd is trying to reach for the window's handle and then throws himself back into the bathtub to hide from Rimmer, Dirk startles BADLY and goes "Oh it's just you. I don't know why I got scared you were already here" - in this scene (and in many others) Dirk dissociates without realizing, distancing himself from the situation at hand. This is a common defense mechanism autistic people, and also ADHDers, develop to handle our day to day lives. Dissociation is also a symptom of trauma, which unfortunately is bound to happen when you live in a world that does not accommodate you.

- "I gave him my cards" "You gave him your card?!" *"No, I gave him my CARDS. I do a lot of things, and then later I'm like uhh" - this is peak AuADHD honestly (more so adhd), in general we do things without fully thinking it through, ESPECIALLY during stressful situations

- *Later on when Todd and Dirk are driving to the bridge and stop before getting out of the car, the following dialogue happens: "What if he pulls out a gun?" "Aha!! That's why I brought... *Pulls out a switchblade* This!!" "What is that supposed to mean?" "You know what they say, about bringing a knife to a gunfight!" "That it's... Bad?" "Oh bloody hell is that what that means?" - big autism moment- more specifically it's very hard for us to intuitively figure out what figures of speech mean.

- "You're really brave, sort of like crazy brave. Or maybe just stupid, but, wow! And also surprisingly incapable, how have you survived this long?" - I wasn't gonna add this one because it's ableist as hell but alas, it's important to mention because it's not that far off from my lived experience and from what I've gathered, of some other disabled people I'm friends with or know. We're incredibly good at some things and at others, eh. So it makes sense for Dirk to be seen like this when in alignment to neurodivergency.

This will take a bit longer because I just got a new jobs and the change in routine has been hell but it'll be finished eventually!

Tagging the people who asked me to/expressed interest:

@clockworkcheetah @generalized-incompetence @silverhardt @weiwuxiankinnie @amber-angel

[marveldiaries]

🥀 angst | ☁️ fluff | ✨ faves | 🔥 smut

🪐 already on notes | 🍂 to be read

Loki 2

By andsheloved

All I wanted 🥀☁️ - When loki finds himself finally being accepted by the rest of the team, you begin to wonder what your relationship really meant to him.

a worthy try ☁️🥀✨ - loki reflects on all that you are, and how maybe one day, all that he is may be good enough to have you.

Little spoon 🍂

I really like your hands 🍂

gift giving ☁️✨

please tell me how to fix it. i miss you. ☁

this love, is it really worth it? 🥀☁️

fake dating ☁

can't say i love you ☁️

clingy loki ☁✨

asking for hugs ☁️🥀✨

loki is in love ☁️

i could’ve lost you ☁️🥀✨

it’s you, it was always you 🍂

mr. & mrs. smith ☁️ - after a new member is introduced to the team, loki begins to imagine a life beyond the tower, not unlike many times before, but his daydream receives an interesting addition, you.

By sarahscribbles

For the first time ☁🔥 - You finally sleep with Loki for the first time.

He finds you asleep 🔥

Warming him 🔥

Stay Here One More Time ☁️ - On the anniversary of the Battle of New York, Loki discovers he has someone on his side.

Do I Haunt Your Mind? 🥀☁ - You finally work up the courage to confess your feelings to Loki, but it goes badly wrong. 

Tiny Blessings 🥀☁✨ - After Frigga’s death, you find a way into the dungeons to comfort her broken son.

Back In Your Arms 🍂 - Loki arrives back at the compound, and back in your arms, after the battle with Thanos.

I love you ☁️ - Loki saying ”I love you” for the first time.

Waking up next to Loki 🍂

Call you mine 🔥☁

Even gods get sick ☁✨ - You care for your love when he gets a sudden summer cold.

Holding him 🥀☁✨ - Loki wanting some cuddles from his gf after a rough day.

Moments of magic ☁ - You bring Loki two gifts to mark his birthday. One a magical object and the other your heart.

By liminalpebble

Stray 🍂 one | two | three | four | five | six | seven - It's 1971 and you're a single shop girl living in the tumultuous, often damp, city of Seattle, feeling lost and alone. Meanwhile, Loki (under the guise of D.B. Cooper) is on the run from Thor the moment he jumped out of that plane. After crash landing in a dumpster and disguising himself as a stray cat to lay low, he becomes your beloved feline room mate and an unusual friendship begins to grow.

By swan-of-sunrise

Spellbinding 🍂 - A chance encounter at the New York Public Library marked the beginning of (Y/N) and Loki’s friendship, but they would soon learn that they shared more in common than their love of literature.

By infinitystoner

Always forever ☁️ - When a mission goes wrong, there’s only one person whose comfort you crave.

Box of rain 🍂 one | two - After the universe plummets into chaos, you find yourself working alongside a merry band of misfits who’ve made a home for themselves in Tønsberg, Norway. When a harrowing incident occurs, Loki is forced to confront his feelings.

By unlucky-number-13

Fire eyes 🍂 - Loki’s back in the TVA after the events at the Citadel, and no one remembers who he is. He’s feeling lost, not sure where to go or what to do next, and he’s got a new coworker who’s complicating his life even further. When she starts somehow triggering hallucinations, it’s a race against time to uncover the truth behind them before his own deceptions are uncovered.

Blood & Flowers 🍂 - When the insufferable Prince Loki casts a spell that causes flowers to bloom on your skin whenever he's injured, you can't even begin to fathom how it will turn your world upside down.

By loki-cees-all

The Little Things Give You Away 🍂 - It’s just a compulsion to steal the TemPad, and it’s just a habit to flee. The timelines have split, the TVA is in disarray, the threat of He Who Remains is insurmountable - and Loki is just so done with it all.

Cupcake For a God ☁🥀✨ - Loki’s birthday is approaching, and it forces himself to reconcile who he wants to be versus who he actually is, and to reflect on his almost certainly unrequited feelings for you.

By give-me-a-moose

Indulgence 🥀✨☁️ - Loki sees his hunger as a weakness, something to be starved. Not to be indulged.

No expert ☁️ - Loki ends up in the medbay and you swear you're gonna kill him.

Sketchy ☁️ - You struggle to find inspiration and Loki proves to be a wonderful muse.

Errands 🍂 - Loki must undergo the most harrowing trial on Midgard…Grocery shopping. 

By asgardwinter

Out of the window 🍂🪐 - Loki always blocked everyone out and he was fine living like that. Then you appeared in his way and decided to throw his rules out of the window.

Crumpled words ☁️ - Those words were all he had from you, and he’d keep them safe and locked away in the darkness.

Love again ☁️ - You swore you’d never love again then met him five minutes later. Feelings just don't work that way.

Traditional 🍂 - Loki finds out some midgardian traditions that he had no idea about, and he likes it very much.

Who needs electricity? ☁ - When the power goes out, Loki learns about your fear of the dark and uses a few tricks to make it better.

Stay here with me 🍂 - All Loki ever needed to calm down was you.

Ambient analysis ☁ - You like Loki, Loki doesn’t like you. At least that’s what a little bird told you.

Unkind 🥀☁✨ - Loki was always joking about you being one silly mortal until one day he wasn’t.

Breathless 🍂 - He’d make you breathless just in order to find his air.

A promise sealed with light ☁️ - It was news to him, having someone around that came up with such things as plans for the future.

Wearing Loki's hoodie ☁️

Would you kiss me if I asked you? 🍂 - How could you convince Loki you meant every drunk word you said to him?

I can't have it any other way ☁ - He only wanted to know if you were going to stay.

By lokisgoodgirl

A Prince's Release 🔥✨

By lokidreaming

The night before Valentine’s Day. 🔥✨

[mlobsters]

supernatural s9e11 first born (w. robbie thompson)

this reminds me a bit of teen wolf in the plot overload disorder. i don't think i even bothered mentioning abaddon last episode. too much shit going on! also makes me laugh that we're in the 1800s, teen wolf also had this very weird (not good) flashback for the history of the argents (in the 1700s) 😂

all right, i know it's cain here, but i don't know anything really beyond that. except the mark at some point.

CROWLEY So...is that boudoir smile for me?

crowley's back in his sweet spot of evil but also maybe helpful but also probably trying to fuck you over. much better than just flat evil

CROWLEY I've been chasing that blade for decades. The closest I got to it was when one of my droogs -- Smitty -- got wind of a protégé demon of Abaddon's who claimed knowledge of the blade. Sadly, before Smitty could nab the guy, a hunter by the name of John Winchester nabbed the protégé. I'm here to see if there's anything in the John Winchester memorial library that might lead us to the first blade -- to killing Abaddon. DEAN You want to hunt? With me? CROWLEY I do love a good buddy comedy.

i know people talk up how crowley feels about dean but to me crowley is just horny for literally everyone and/or no one. sheppard is just so charismatic in this part

why is this so cute!

laughed out loud, good one. i'm the BEST liar, i totally fucked you both over, don't you remember??? don't besmirch my lying abilities, bro

i thought being totally sober would make me less loquacious but sadly, no ;(

CROWLEY Is all this really necessary? I mean, I've been inside your brother. We're practically family. DEAN Listen to me. We are the furthest thing from family. You got that, dickbag?

while dean does like to adopt every stray he comes across, the king of hell apparently doesn't qualify 😩

cas seemed disappointed about the lack of an actual guinea pig. understandable

sam barely keeping it together haha

hello sarah connor 🔥

CROWLEY I can help. Dean? DEAN He wants Abaddon as dead as I do. TARA If your daddy could see you now.

stop the doom spiral of guilt, dean. it's complicated, okay??? and shooting the floor in her own shop to break the devil's trap, what the actual fuck 😂

CROWLEY Would you care to join us? TARA Him? Anytime. You? Never.

hot lady who banged his dad, of course she wants to jump dean too. reminds me of this

s7e19 of grave importance

SAM Annie's not usually this late, is she? DEAN No, never. She's totally compulsive. I'll try her cell. SAM You know, uh, you know she and Bobby had a thing, right? DEAN Yeah. Yeah, I knew that. Really? SAM Yeah. Kind of a foxhole thing – very Hemingway. DEAN Huh. She and I kind of went Hemingway this one time, too. SAM All right, well... that happens. DEAN What, you too? SAM Look, it was a while back. We ended up on the same case. She was stressed. I-I-I... I didn't... have a soul. DEAN That's a lot of foxholes.

what a pretty face! i don't know much religious lore but i wasn't expecting cain to be scary for crowley. i have no idea where he lands in the food chain, in fact

DEAN Why don't you just zap out of here? CROWLEY I'd never leave my domestic partner in crime. DEAN [snorts] Yeah, like your heart grew three sizes. You can't zap out of here, can you?

i wonder if crowley could make it an entire day without flirting with anyone

CASTIEL Sam, the trials. You chose not to go through with them for a reason, didn't you? You chose to live rather than to sacrifice yourself. You and Dean... You chose each other. SAM Yeah, I did. We did. And then... Dean made a choice for me.

😔

how does finding gadreel fix things?

cain became a demon, okay (aha things are clicking that i know from fic lol). so with the whole dean and sam are descended from cain and abel, does that mean cain is grandpa? uncle?

CASTIEL No. Why must the Winchesters run toward death?

good question, cas

sometimes i wonder how things are lit (in all media, not just spn), if they're trying to give the appearance of someone being on the verge of tears. when you got that highlight near your lower eyelid, it really looks like it regardless of actual tears accumulating. anyway,

SAM My life's not worth any more than anyone else's -- not yours or Dean's...or Kevin's. Please. Please, help me do one thing right. Keep going.

oh, sam.

@shinelikethunder linked this fight scene with rhianna's s&m over it, i may not be feeling the vibes op is talking about but i can appreciate it nonetheless :) it's a really good fight scene for jackles and great song choice. i'm always mourning the spn that could have been with better music 😔

looking to see if there was a clean version on spotify of s&m out of curiosity and laughing that there's a kids version of the "sex in the air, i don't care i love the smell of it, sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me" song

DEAN Right. Yeah, except I didn't kill my brother. CAIN You saved yours. Why? DEAN Because you never give up on family -- ever. CAIN Where's your brother now, then?

ouch.

also, cain is retired, other demons didn't know where he was, but apparently he still gets the hot gossip on the winchesters somehow.

CASTIEL Sam, I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do. But nothing is worth losing you.

oh i see

ah fucking hell speaking of music, this melody is back. what did i associate it with last time. twilight and something. i think when dean was praying in his room to cas. it's at the very end of this post, i included video of it - s8e16

something about this mushy music has me feeling twilight or hunger games and i'm not sure which. ugh. bella's lullaby / rue's music (but that doesn't even have piano but it does have that plucked acoustic guitar like day before yesterday's s8e14 princess bride-esque music)

and apparently it really was time for sam and cas quality time. but anyway this melody is so familiar, kicks in when cas says the thing about him screwing up more than sam. is it a slowed down version of some spn theme? urgh. question may go unanswered until i rewatch from the beginning.

so anyway, that was a nice moment. i like how robbie is writing cas this episode

DEAN The jawbone of an animal. The jawbone you used to kill Abel because he was God's favorite. CAIN Abel wasn't talking to God. He was talking to Lucifer. Lucifer was gonna make my brother into his pet. I couldn't bear to watch him be corrupted, so I offered a deal -- Abel's soul in heaven for my soul in hell. Lucifer accepted... As long as I was the one who sent Abel to heaven. So, I killed him. Became a soldier of Hell -- a knight.

listen i don't know these stories except for very broad strokes but okaaaay interesting twist

ABADDON We could have been forever, but you chose her. Well, if I can't have you, then neither can she.

i see. ex and you're her... creator? complicated

welp. i didn't know dean was getting the mark in this episode, wheels are in motion

aw. sweet sammy

CASTIEL As far as I'm concerned, Metatron is the key to fixing everything that's wrong. I'm gonna find him. You know, Sam, we could use all the help we could get to find Gadreel and Metatron.

--

CROWLEY You don't mean that. We're having too much fun. Listen up. Even with the Blade, we're gonna need all the help we can get against Abaddon. DEAN Go find the Blade. CROWLEY It's always something with you boys, isn't it?

cute. but yes, show sure likes to do it!

i'm sure it's fine

[un-local]

How about these?:

She’s sick. There’s an ache deep in her bones. Her neck, the fine bones at the top of her spine—they feel like they’re going to erupt from her skin.  Something’s very wrong. Nausea comes in waves. Fever. She can feel delirium taking her—she’s convinced she’s submerged in the very waters of creation, for a while. She vividly feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into a current; cold and dark and inescapable. As it pulls her down, she’s overcome with the instinct to breathe it in— Against her temple she feels a hand, with gentle fingers dragging softly through her hair. Suddenly, every layer of the dream collapses in on itself, and she jolts awake with a gasp.  Here, in Liurnia, she hauls herself up, rubbing at her face. Even the memory is a shock of cold water to her. She’s a woman haunted.  There’s a piece of Magdalene, a piece she hates, that wants to jump into the sea and swim right back to her. To Ida. But that piece of her is a fool, and every other part of her sees full well that there’s nothing for her back there.  Nothing but a bit of fun. She groans, rests her elbows on her bent knees, and hangs her head. As she calms, the remnants of a deep ache settle in—an echo of what she felt in the dream. She takes in the sight of the stone tiles of the gazebo beneath her. Cold, unforgiving. She rubs at her neck. That’ll do it, she thinks, as she slowly stretches the muscles in her aching back.

-----------------

His mind runs riot as he makes his notes and observations.  A way to keep himself from dwelling on where this sample came from, no doubt. But he’s driving himself mad here. In just the last hour or so, he’s formed—and rescinded—nearly every possible opinion on Magdalene. She’s undermining him. She’s on his side. She’s a clueless pawn—either his useful idiot, or someone else's.  She’s only here out of pity.  She’s going to come to her senses and turn on him.  She’s going to get herself killed, by the Lunar Princess herself. Or one of her vassals. She’ll leave the Hold, full of trust in him, only to be struck down by sinister, diabolical hands.  A wave of guilt overtakes him. It’s profound and suffocating, as if that had truly come to pass.  With a terse frown, he starts a new page. It’s just his nature, to twist and turn things around in his mind. A compulsion, really. He needs to see it coming. To extrapolate every possible scenario. It all needs to be accounted for—he won’t be caught unawares. A holdover from days long past, he supposes. It isn’t doing him much good now, though. He sighs, shaking a writer’s cramp out of his hand.  He saw it in Magdalene’s eyes; she wants out of this competition for Lord. Not exactly ideal, for his purposes—but it could be much worse. She hasn't been infected by late Golden Order ideology yet.  Magdalene doesn’t have much of an agenda of her own. Not yet, at least. But as she gets her bearings, it’s safe to say she’s on his side. For now, that cynical part of him whispers.  He pinches the bridge of his nose at that, and sighs. That’s hardly fair. Their last conversation is proof of that. “You think me a madman—” “No.” “No?” “...No.” And what music that had been to his ears. He’d nearly fainted on the spot, hearing it. She’d been sure of it too—he saw the way she’d grown thoughtful. The way her brows came together for a moment, the way she’d blinked and tilted her head as she mulled it over.  “No,” she’d said.  He can’t get it out of his head. He’d spoken of heresy to her. Truth to him, yes, but heresy to everyone else. It’s not something other Tarnished take kindly to, in his experience. The golden light that guides them is above reproach, in these lands.  The only flaw anyone ever sees in the Elden Ring was that it was shattered. But he knows there’s more to it than that. When he told her the Order was flawed, she hadn’t recoiled in disbelief. She hadn’t even rejected the prospect in the slightest.  “Flaws can be fixed,” he’d told her. It was a risky move, on his part. He’d put their entire partnership on the line, in that moment.  And in response, she’d leaned in closer to him, with rapt attention in her eyes.  It’s a memory that’s etched into his very soul, now.

These scenes are so interesting to me, I would love to hear your thoughts on it while you were writing!! :o)

ask and ye shall receive!

Dream Sequence:

Dreams, as I write them, are heavy on imagery, emotion, and occasionally symbolism. So this isn’t a 1-to-1 thing; what’s being alluded to in these scenes aren’t things that are literally going to happen.

Rather, these are more like introductions to an idea, or insights to a character's headspace. In this case, both. An introduction the power Mags got from the Ancestor Spirit, as well as an insight into her past.

The power, (which the ancestral followers outside the catacombs seemed to take notice of) is growing, as she becomes more powerful/wins more battles. And Mags' time with Ida came up earlier in the chapter, so we get a glimpse into all the emotion at play there.

Notice how it’s being tied to the visuals of:

1] The Ancestral Spirit/the natural cycles of the world

2] Water & Life

3] The fever she experienced after being attacked by wolves

I color-coded it, so it's easier to see what I mean.

She’s sick. There’s an ache deep in her bones. Her neck, the fine bones at the top of her spine—they feel like they’re going to erupt from her skin.  Something’s very wrong. Nausea comes in waves. Fever. She can feel delirium taking her—she’s convinced she’s submerged in the very waters of creation, for a while. She vividly feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into a current; cold and dark and inescapable. As it pulls her down, she’s overcome with the instinct to breathe it in—

Ugh, it kinda weird to see my writing like this, XD

Hopefully, now that I've shown behind the curtain, I haven't totally jinxed my ability to write these kinds of scenes...

(ancestor spirit for reference, note the sprouting at the vertebrae)

There’s a piece of Magdalene, a piece she hates, that wants to jump into the sea and swim right back to her. To Ida.

Honestly, I only added the namedrop of Ida here was bc I was worried no one else would be following this. My original draft just said "that wants to jump into the sea and swim right back the her." With no elaboration as to who. I fight a battle every day to keep from cutting the clarification sentence, lol

Nothing but a bit of fun.

Oh, oh we’re getting to that. Don’t you worry! All in due time :)

As she calms, the remnants of a deep ache settle in—an echo of what she felt in the dream. She takes in the sight of the stone tiles of the gazebo beneath her. Cold, unforgiving. She rubs at her neck. That’ll do it, she thinks, as she slowly stretches the muscles in her aching back.

You’ll notice I do this with dreams sometimes too: the outside world bleeds into them, somehow. The cold hard ground making her neck hurt = a more grounded reason for the dream symbolism. Mags noticing the storm on the horizon before she falls asleep = a more grounded reason than "her dream itself summoned a it"

Now, which is the true reading, you may ask?

… ;)

Rogier Overthinking:

In just the last hour or so, he’s formed—and rescinded—nearly every possible opinion on Magdalene.

I do this sort of pendulum-ing at work everyday, lol. This line is autobiographical XD

She’s going to get herself killed, by the Lunar Princess herself. Or one of her vassals. She’ll leave the Hold, full of trust in him, only to be struck down by sinister, diabolical hands. 

Rogier has made a lot of assumptions about Ranni, hasn't he? This is based off his in-game lines describing the NotBK and Ranni. He seems to be very wary of her. I wanted to set that up a little further.

It’s just his nature, to twist and turn things around in his mind. A compulsion, really. He needs to see it coming. To extrapolate every possible scenario. It all needs to be accounted for—he won’t be caught unawares. A holdover from days long past, he supposes.

INT builds gonna INT, lol

Remember how I said this is NOT therapist/APA approved fiction? Yeah. For this next part, keep in mind that this is just Some Fucking Broad's personal thoughts.

With that said: Something I've noticed, in the general "disorganized attachment" camp, is a total inability to trust yourself. Overthinking can become a way to compensate for that. If you can't trust your read on someone, just run every scenario in your head! Surely, this cannot have any drawbacks for your mental health.

(Which is funny, because in-game, Rogier's way more in-tune with other people's mindsets than most, iirc) So in this fic, not only is he acutely aware of other's mindsets, but he also can't even trust himself to know he's right in his assessment. (Something something "disorganized attachment," yada yada "coping with the inconsistency in other's responses growing up"... you get the gist)

This, of course, has only been exacerbated by his background of Nobility Court Intrigue Bullshit.

She hasn't been infected by late Golden Order ideology yet. 

Someone sure has strong feelings on the late-stage Order Fundamentalists, huh?

This isn't really a dig at D. The thing about Rogier is this: he's the embodiment of the truth the Golden Order can't acknowledge. (There's a flaw in the Order) (Clearly, if Godwyn could be killed and corrupted as he was.) (And if that's true... then TWILD are innocent, and they are being unjustly put to death... so on and so forth)

As much as Rogier strives for a "better" version of the Order, he kind of has a lot of friction with the current one. Especially in this fic. He can't see grace. He has a rough time with other Tarnished, particularly in how their total faith alienates him. He's in an awful in-between, here.

Which brings us to:

“You think me a madman—” “No.” “No?” “...No.” And what music that had been to his ears. He’d nearly fainted on the spot, hearing it. She’d been sure of it too—he saw the way she’d grown thoughtful. The way her brows came together for a moment, the way she’d blinked and tilted her head as she mulled it over.  “No,” she’d said.  He can’t get it out of his head.

and:

“Flaws can be fixed,” he’d told her. It was a risky move, on his part. He’d put their entire partnership on the line, in that moment. 

This is kind of his first major moment of intentional vulnerability with Mags. And since he's gone so long without that, even though he doesn't share his past (only his intentions), it's still so raw for him.

That moment of her really thinking about it for a second, and then saying "No." was huge in his book. There was an intentionality that he couldn't write off as conciliatory/humoring him/sparing his feelings. Big deal for him. I loved writing it!

(I also love returning to past scenes from a different character's perspective. You can see the way each one thinks, and what they notice/focus on.)

The golden light that guides them is above reproach, in these lands. 

You know, there's a chance I had "Ghuleh/Zombie Queen" by Ghost on repeat around the time this was written... and perhaps... that inspired the sentence structure there a little....

What? It's a great song. Not all my comments have a deep meaning. Sometimes, they are shameless endorsements of songs I like XD

If I actually wanted to be deep about it, Fia would be the character to try to fit with this song...

The only flaw anyone ever sees in the Elden Ring was that it was shattered.

No big insight, I just like this line :)

And in response, she’d leaned in closer to him, with rapt attention in her eyes. 

The thing about Mags: she holds no real love for the Golden Order.

So perhaps, one day, she may even come to embody the truth that Rogier can't acknowledge... ;3

dont hold your breath for that though. long ways away, lol

And boom, Done. There's my authors commentary :D I hope it was interesting!

Also: sorry this took so long, I really didn't mean to make ya wait! But alas, I am currently applying to grad school XD send help

[ prompt ]

[berenwrites]

Whole New Us Ch22 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Whole New Us: Trauma Bonded and Beyond

Also on AO3 | Or here CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20 | CH21 | CH22 | CH23 | CH24 | CH25 (Mature) | CH25 (Fade to black) COMPLETE

Summary: Steve has been ignoring his own problems, he’s been busy. They’ve all been busy, preoccupied with fixing everything that was broken. Vecna has been defeated, but the Upside Down is still there, and the gates are not completely closed even though Hawkins has almost returned to normal. It’s been a couple of months and the aftereffects of Steve’s encounter with the demobats is about to come back to bite him. However, it also brings some unexpected hope.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Rating: Teen (with mature content in later chapters)

Chapter 22.    Kind of Weird

It was weird having his parents in the house. For the first time in a very long time, not exactly bad weird, but still strange enough that Steve was on edge. The way his dad shut himself in his office with coffee and toast was not overly unusual. His dad had been a workaholic for years, so it was normal behaviour. His mom, on the other hand, was very much present.

She had a surprisingly lively debate with Dustin over breakfast about why Star Trek was far superior to Star Wars. Steve hadn’t even been aware his mother knew what Star Trek was, let alone that she had apparently been a fan when she was younger. From the way she actually knew all the characters’ names, Steve suspected his mom might have even been a closet nerd. It blew his mind.

He also realised he was never ever going to be allowed to forget it, no matter how long his parents decided to stay in town.

The way all the kids lined up to help load the dishwasher once breakfast was done made him feel a bit like a proud parent himself. Not that he was ever going to admit to his mother he usually had to cajole them into it. The living room was also returned to a tidy state remarkably quickly.

Nancy showed up soon after breakfast to pick up Mike and Lucas, which left Steve to drop off Dustin, Max, El and Will. It was all very civilised, but it didn’t stop Steve speeding on the way home because he had once again left Robin and Eddie alone with his parents.

“It’s like a compulsion,” were the words he heard from Robin after making it back through the door.

“Yeah, Steve can’t help himself when someone needs something,” Eddie agreed. “Did he ever tell you how he first met Dustin?”

“No, I don’t believe he did,” his mom replied while he followed their voices to the kitchen.

“Helping to look for his lost cat,” Robin supplied. “The way Steve tells it, he drove Dustin around for a bit before they took a little walk. The way Dustin tells it, they were out there for hours.”

“Ended up at the junkyard with Lucas and Max, where Steve fought off jacked-up dogs with his baseball bat to keep the kids safe,” Eddie added.

“It was Jonathan’s bat originally,” Steve said, feeling he had listened long enough.

His mom looked up from where she was sitting at the small kitchen table with Robin and Eddie.

“Everyone home safe?” she asked.

“Well until Dustin comes up with some new hairbrained experiment, yes,” he replied. “Dustin’s mom sent some of her secret recipe peanut bars,” he added, placing the Tupperware box on the counter.

“Oh my god, gimmie,” Eddie said, making grabby hands.

“You only just had breakfast,” Steve pointed out.

“You have tasted those bars, right?” Eddie insisted.

“He has a point,” Robin agreed.

Steve rolled his eyes and moved the box to the table.

“If either of you decide to jump in the pool fully clothed because you are on a sugar rush, I am not rescuing you,” he said.

Eddie turned to look at Robin with his eyebrows raised.

“It was one time,” she protested, “and I didn’t jump in, I fell in. It was an accident.”

Steve could tell his mom was trying not to laugh.

“And don’t lie in front of your mother, Steven, you’d be in there like a shot dragging my sorry ass out,” Robin said as she stole one of the bars.

“That’s it, I’m locking the back door,” he replied, and his mother did finally let out a quiet laugh.

He noticed her smile turn fond when Eddie broke one of the bars in half and passed part of it to him. It wasn’t like he could refuse after that.

“You really should try one,” he told him mom as he sat down. “I’m not sure what Claudia puts in them, but they’re almost as good as Grandma Lucy’s cookies.”

“High praise indeed,” his mom said, “but I unfortunately am no longer close to twenty and my blood sugar would hate me. If there are any left, I will try one later.”

“Do you have a safe?” Eddie asked with a grin. “I think that might be the only way to stop Robin eating the lot.”

“Hey,” Robin complained, “you’re one to talk Mr I-can-eat-an-entire-box-of-cereal-in-one-sitting.”

Steve snorted a laugh as his best friend and his boyfriend continued to bicker. That his mother was watching them with a slightly bemused, but pleased expression on her face was strange, but it was also good. He let himself enjoy it while it lasted, even if the voice of doubt in the back of his mind was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

~*~

It was late when Steve and Eddie got back after Steve’s shift at Family Video. He’d been on closing and since Robin had not been on with him, Eddie had insisted on accompanying him. It had become something of a habit. Eddie was no longer going full incognito, but it seemed as if Hawkins was beginning to mostly ignore him once more. Not that Steve was on board with people ignoring Eddie, but it was much better than the alternative.

Trying to eat one of the customers because they were nasty to Eddie would definitely get him fired.

“Hi, Mom,” he said as he put his keys in the bowl by the door.

His mother was watching TV while also apparently reading a book. Now that he thought about it, he remembered her doing it a lot when he was small.

“Hello, Darling,” his mom said, turning and giving him a smile. “How was work?”

“I only had to explain twice that movies that are still in theatres aren’t available to rent, so pretty good,” he replied.

“I still say you should just give them a random tape from a shelf every time they ask,” Eddie added. “They probably don’t even know what they’re asking about.”

“And I’ve explained I kind of want to keep my job,” Steve replied. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie replied.

Steve had no idea how Eddie did it, but he could drink coffee last thing at night and still sleep. Steve was more of a hot chocolate kind of guy. He had enough trouble with interrupted sleep that he did not need caffeine in the mix.

“Mom, can I get you anything?” he asked.

“I’m good,” his mom replied.

Heading into the kitchen, he flipped on the light and started on the drinks. By the time he made it back into the living room, Eddie was sitting on the couch near his mom, and they appeared to be talking about the book she had been reading. He handed Eddie a mug while doing his best to stifle a yawn.

Apparently, he didn’t do a very good job, because Eddie noticed instantly.

“Okay, bed for you,” Eddie said.

Steve gave his boyfriend his best bitchy stare for that.

“Do not make me break out your full name,” Eddie threatened.

“You don’t even know my full name,” Steve pointed out.

“Well then don’t make me subject your lovely mother to my truly terrible guesses,” Eddie said with a sweet smile. “Last night was bad for you and you’ve been on the go all day.”

“I slept all the way through last night,” he countered.

“Kinda,” was all Eddie said.

That wasn’t exactly a settling response. Steve did not remember waking up the previous night. He didn’t even remember any dreams, but Eddie seemed to be suggesting that wasn’t the case.

The fact was, he had been about to suggest they head upstairs anyway, but he was nothing if not stubborn. He put one hand on his hip.

“Steven Au….”

“Okay, okay,” he surrendered before Eddie could get going. “But only because I do not want my mom mentally scarred by whatever you come up with.”

His mom was being absolutely no help, just sitting there smiling demurely. He was beginning to think his mom might have a very wicked sense of humour that he had never been able to appreciate when he was younger and that had been hidden from him for his teenage years.

“Impressive,” his mom said. “I’m afraid Steve gets his stubborn side from me. There was this one time…”

“Mom!” he protested.

She smiled sweetly at him.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he said and headed for the stairs with his hot chocolate in hand. “Good night, mom,” he added as he reached the stairs with Eddie close behind him.

“Good night, Darling,” his mom replied.

On the landing, Eddie paused, looking over at the door to the room that was technically his, but that he’d never actually slept in.

“Yeah, no,” Steve said without having to think about it, “I do not plan on waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.”

Eddie still had nightmares and Steve had gained a whole new set to go with his old ones, sleeping alone was like playing Russian roulette with only one chamber empty in the gun. They might have to forgo the cuddling that had become something of a thing, while his parents were home, but he needed Eddie close. He wasn’t up for that battle any time soon. Really, he never wanted to have that battle at all if he could help it. Given how Eddie put up no fight at all, he was sure they were on the same page.

What he hadn’t anticipated was having his hot chocolate taken away and put on the side, before being crowded up against the wall next to the bathroom as soon as his bedroom door closed behind them.

“Been dying to do this all day,” Eddie said quietly before diving in for a kiss.

The moment Eddie’s lips touched his, Steve melted into the touch. He hadn’t been aware of how much tension he was carrying around until it flowed away. Wrapping his arms around Eddie, he pulled him closer and kissed back for all he was worth. Not that either of them dared to try for tongues. They’d had a lot of practice and they were quite good at it, but it was still too much of a risk. If blood became involved, they would be loud, very loud.

When Eddie broke away and started kissing across his chin and down his neck, he put his head back and just enjoyed it. Sometimes he wondered how he had ever lived without this. Nothing in the world could ever make him give it up as long as Eddie would have him.

End of Chapter 22

Chapter 23

[vtmchronicle-journal]

Rambling about my VtM character again cause I’m procrastinating on fixing the city map (I told myself I wasn’t going to trace it, but I am because apparently I don’t like myself).

So anyways Oliver. He was paranoid, like even more so than most kindred. The whole hunted bane the Salubri get really seemed to lend to making someone hyper vigilant and anxious. Head was always on a swivel, constantly taking the long way to avoid being followed, checking rooms for hided (obfuscated) kindred, having a spare burner phone, only using flip phones (he wasn’t even old, just paranoid about all the stuff in smart phones that might be trackable), etc.

He relied a lot on his heightened senses. Honesty I always figured that he’d feel the need to use them whenever he was anxious, even if it wasn’t the best idea. Since I didn’t give Oliver any dots in combat skills he was kinda screwed if someone got the jump on him, so obviously he was terrified of getting caught unawares.

Tbf a lot of things terrified Oliver (getting seriously hurt being one of worst ones). It’s why he was practically a social hermit. If he had his own way he’d barely ever leave his clinic but unfortunately he was a PC and therefore had to deal with problems. That plus the fact that he felt the need to help people meant he unfortunately couldn’t just hide away working.

Oliver never liked most other kindred, mostly cause he was worried they’d find out about the third eye thing. That and the constant politicking some kindred did made his paranoia worse. Humans were better company, less likely to be able to do actual damage to him. Because of this his favorite person was his touchstone who was basically a walking talking liability, I’ll have to talk about them sometime.

But yeah, Oliver was a paranoid coward who unfortunately was cursed with the compulsive need to help others and this got him into way more trouble than he ever should have been in. A character choice which was way different from what I would usually choose but still fun.

[magpie-moon]

well I love you, little dove

Just another depressed kid on the interwebs With ao3 and tumblr as my domain They think we’re all the same We have a hive mind. Aren’t you with the times? They say its normal adolescence But i don’t think it's typical to press blades into my thighs and lick up the essence To never make a mess and hide the evidence But it might be, i guess i’m just guessing And anyway that's an oversimplification, a dramatization Ignoring all the maybe ptsd, and trauma, the abuse, neglect and obsessive compulsive, adhd, anxiety and depression An obstinate delinquent, perhaps even anger issues. Here's a confession For 16 years everyone told me what to do, threatened me with violence And spent up all my mileage Now i’m just a rusted old jukered that gets grumpy when you try to fix me That screams when you try to change me To save me And really, it’s an art, being this foolish Like never missing a shooting star Or being able to always open jelly jars But now i’m about to derail all my plans As if they were ever attainable anyway Like those clouds and good math grades. Or ways to avoid getting caught with contraband for longer than six month and not being late for calls or never breaking anyone’s trust falls And well, maybe I move too fast. I’m speeding down a road, it's foggy. Not sure if that's slick black ice Or wet asphalt, shiny in the headlights 100 miles per hour when my speed should be 20 And i’ve always thought about my own mortality

Maybe it's just the morbid in me But stopping now would be fatal, just like giving me hope Like a noose around my neck, they gave me rope And i tied it, jumped from the ledge (and usually they took shortcuts along the ledge, one day they fell on the man below. His grieving widow encased him in crystal and warned people to be careful of people who fall from ledges like pigeon poop from pedestals. Oh, the circus of the mad) My neck all cracked like stained glass Cleaning up would be a pain Like cleaning up after twisters or fights in the rain, Forest fires or spilled milk in the dead of night I wish i were out of sight out of mind But really just i wish i had you in my sights Like literally, physically here with me Because i never learned how to put up walls Or separate tomorrow from eternity But now it's over, i’m at your beck and call It sometimes strikes me funny when you ask If i wanna deal with you when your burning up the sun When you can’t sit still and your brain is overrun Because honestly its kinda sick how much it turns me on In my mind, i help you out I kiss you dizzy, up against the lockers just before last period And whisper threats, i make you wait Your always desperate I'm always demanding In love with the way my imaginary you cries out with each little death I keep going, i never want it to end But really i just want you here, even though it kinda scares me Cause what if you leave as soon as you arrive

Or you realize i’m not that great at taking constructive criticism or even just compromise And you get tired of all things you thought you liked My endearing attributes that only end in spite Like the way i take long naps, or can’t cook to save my life Disorganized, careless and nothing ever gets done quite right And i’ll push you away eventually Even if it's just for a little while Cause i get tired and irritable Pissed off, unsatisfiable At best i’m annoying, at worst downright irredeemable I’m sorry in advance Sometimes i just need you too tell me i look decent When really my eyes are my only saving grace Isn’t that right? Once you called them mesmerizing Twice you called them stunning Thrice you called them lovely Well i love you, little dove And really, i just want a hug

[salamoonder]

long thought that probably no one’s gonna read but like

i recently started listening to critical role again and. hmm.

caleb widogast is the kind of character who i only allow myself to have a crush on because he’s fictional. it used to be that that was my only “type” (mostly back when i thought i was straight) but now it’s just a kind of person that i try to block out of my everyday life, i guess?

like i see this character who is a whole ass mess, emotionally, physically, and the maternal instincts (or learned, ingrained behavior that come from being the eldest afab child in a family with five children) kicks in and i want to physically and forcibly take care of him forever. like i want to get him a shower and actual nice clothes and decent food and a stable home and the kind of emotional support that drains the life out of me personally but that i hardly even notice giving until i’m emotionally dead myself

there are people that make me want to drain myself of every last drop of life just to take care of them, and this has been said before in smarter ways by smarter people, but there is something both hopeful and sinister in the way that this culture tells women (and afab people) that they should treat the men in their relationships.

and yeah it’s really nice for me to indulge in that idea, fictionally--of taking someone out of the absolute darkest part of their life and pouring literally all my energy into making them a happier, healthier, safer, better person--but i used to actually do that with irl people and what happens is that you either get used up and thrown out when you weren’t interesting anymore or didn’t want to indulge in their darker habits, or you become all of someone’s support and the weight of their happiness falls squarely on your shoulders, and even if you feel like you’re dying while you’re doing it, you pull them out of that hole, and if you do your job right--they get better, and they don’t need you, and they realize that putting all of their needs onto one person isn’t sustainable (and maybe you even taught them that) and they leave you because they get better

anyway it freaks me out, how much that felt like an actual drug when i was younger, like something i absolutely needed--i would’ve told you i really wanted a boyfriend, but i did not, i wanted a parasite, and unfortunately i got several