#life is meaningless but also okay sometimes

[the-brainrot-central]

Who up writing mpreg rn

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ฿Ⱡ₳₦₭ ₴₱₳₵Ɇ ♡

♡ Pairings: frat boy!jaehyun x chubby!fem!reader, frat boy!johnny x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: college au/angst/fluff/smut

♡ Summary: Jaehyun has made it a habit of playing with your heart. One day he loves you, the next he hates you, with nothing in between. Growing tired of his games, you find your attention drifting somewhere else. Toward his roommate and frat brother Johnny to be exact.

[Part Two Here 🖤]

♡ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: fuckboy Jaehyun in his full villain era (for now), voyeurism, two couples having sex in the same room (not an orgy), technically unprotected sex by way of protection not being explicitly mentioned, a lil spanking, partying, kissing, mentions of drinking, casual/meaningless sex, sexual fantasies, everyone's a lil morally gray, heartbreak & that's all bbys.

♡ A/N: I had a bloodlust for something angsty and ya know this did a pretty good job at satisfying it. It also satisfied by craving for something sweet so I'll keep my fingers crossed it does both for y'all too. 🖤

It was exciting at first. Weekends at the frat house partying with Jaehyun. No rules. No limitations. Everything a girl could want just waiting to be given to her if she asked. And the sex? The sex was incredible. Jaehyun could be a real asshole sometimes but he always knew how to make you come so hard your ears were ringing. 

You knew from the start that it’d be delusional to think you were anything more to him than a pretty face and a dependable fuck. Jaehyun’s killer bone structure and gorgeous features make him what one might imagine a fairytale prince to be. All the girls on campus dream of being with him and he knows it. He loves it.

That man has an ego bigger than his cock which is unfortunately rather large. There’s so much of himself floating around in his head that there’s just no room for anyone else. Still he has his endearing moments, ones that make a girl feel special, and that’s what keeps you coming back when you begin to think better of tolerating his bullshit.

That’s why you’re here tonight, knees digging into his mattress, cheek pressed to his pillow, as he fucks you from behind. You feel it, the force of his hips snapping against your ass, his cock pulsing deep in your core. But it feels like nothing. It’s like getting a tooth pulled after the dentist has numbed you up real good. The force of the movement is there but the feeling’s gone.

A few feet away another bed creaks as a girl you’ve only met once or twice rides Jaehyun’s frat brother Johnny like one of those mechanical bulls. This isn’t abnormal. During these parties sex happens any time, anywhere, and that almost always includes being in the same room together. But you can’t help feeling like a pervert for stealing a few glances of the adjacent couple.

Jaehyun never formally introduced you to Johnny. Come to think of it, he's never formally introduced you to anyone. It was Johnny who introduced himself one night when you’d had a few too many drinks for your own good and ended up hunched over the toilet with Jaehyun nowhere to be found. 

Johnny sat with you for hours making sure you were hydrated and feeding you snacks until he was sure you were okay. You can’t for the life of you remember what was said. You can only recall that you felt comfortable and safe with him. It was enough to make you develop the tiniest crush that’s only been made worse by how sweet he’s been to you since.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, interrupting your train of thought. Almost simultaneously Johnny begins to caress the other girl’s hips. There’s so much tenderness in the way he touches her and you envy it. You wish Jaehyun could give you even a fraction of that. Just once. Pulling the girl in for a kiss, Johnny wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. With her head nestled in the side of his neck, he cradles her gently as he lifts into her at a slow, rhythmic pace. 

You imagine that’s you, not being hammered into but actually feeling something, and magically the friction of Jaehyun’s cock rubbing your walls feels good. In fact, far better than it ever has before. You let out a moan, a whisper, “Aah, oh god.” Jaehyun takes notice of it, loving the way you clench too much not to hit that sweet spot again and again. He’s so distracted by the delicious jiggling of your body, his vision curtained by messy dark brown hair, that he can’t see that he isn’t the only one captivated by you.

But you notice. Johnny’s staring back at you now, his eyes glued to yours as he takes in all those pretty faces you make. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you either. He and Jaehyun were roommates long before you came into the picture. Johnny’s seen more than a few girls naked in Jaehyun’s bed but you’re the only one he’s cared to sneak a peek at. The crush you have on him is so mutual. How you never picked up on it he doesn’t know but it’s oh so obvious now.

The longing behind Johnny’s eyes is immense, luring you deeper into his gaze until he’s all you see. Setting your bodies on autopilot with your respective partners, you begin to quietly explore each other. Your minds indulge in every dirty thought you’ve had about each other. Thoughts you’d suppressed out of fear that you were doing something wrong. 

You find yourself getting wetter than you’ve been all night, walls dripping twice as much as they hug Jaehyun’s cock. “Damn, you feel so good, baby” Jaehyun praises, planting kisses down the middle of your back. He shifts to a position he knows will have you trembling and you let out the sexiest moan. So sexy it makes Johnny’s cock twitch inside of the other girl, heat washing over both of your bodies. 

“You’re so fucking cute” Johnny whispers in a way that seems to be for the girl in his arms but is meant for you and only you. His face lights up like the 4th of July at every broken moan or arch of your back. You can tell how badly he wishes the pussy warming his cock right now were yours and you get the filthiest rush out of that.

Before you know it the pressure inside you has reached its peak and your legs are shaking, knees threatening to give out from under you. A faint smile creeps across Johnny’s face and he mouths to you, “Come.” And you do, as if on command. Burying your face in the pillow, you bite down on the fluffy cotton and let it fill your cheeks. It’s a gag of sorts, a desperately needed one incase you should cry out the wrong name on accident.

You know in your heart that even by frat boy standards you’ve crossed a line. You’ve stumbled into territory there’s no coming back from. But when it feels this good it’s difficult to want to turn back anyway. 

“You’re overreacting. It’s not like you’re my girlfriend.” 

You know this to be true, Jaehyun isn’t your boyfriend, but it hurts all the same to wake up to him texting another girl. Your heart sank when you rolled over this morning, still in his arms, to find him making plans to meet up with her tonight.

It was so blatant, he didn’t even attempt to hide what he was doing, and maybe that’s what hurts most of all. You thought he cared enough about you to at least pretend he wasn’t playing the absolute fuck out of you. It’s clear now that you thought wrong. 

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” you shout, gathering your things from the floor, the sheet from his bed still draped around your naked body. 

A fully dressed Jaehyun casually searches the dresser for his keys, the smile on his face so cocky you want to slap it off. “Right, I’m going to the gym. You know how to see yourself out right?” 

Picking up one of your heels, you channel all your strength into throwing it at his head. “I never wanna see you again!” 

Jaehyun opens the bedroom door in time to take cover behind it, the heel of your shoe leaving a dent where it would’ve hit him. “Ooh, feisty” he teases, cracking the door to throw you a wink, “Save some of that for next time, hmm?”

There’s so much you want to say but none of it will change anything. He walks away from you like it’s nothing and that’s precisely what you feel like. Nothing. Unable to hold back anymore, you burst into tears where you stand, gathering up some of the sheet to sob quietly into. You can’t recall the last time you cried like this. A chest tightening, nose dripping, lip quivering type of cry that makes you want to double over in pain. 

“Hey, come here” a voice whispers, the rasp of sleep still hanging over it.

You feel a tug on the back of the sheet and turn to see Johnny sitting up in bed, one hand rubbing his barely open eyes while the other clings to the sheet around you.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up” you apologize, too embarrassed to make eye contact, “I’ll just get my things and—”

“No, come here” he insists, pulling you closer to his bed, “Come lay with me.”

Something in you says to resist it—you shouldn’t be crawling into bed with Jaehyun’s roommate—but Johnny’s already taking you by the hand, guiding you down into the empty spot beside him. No words are spoken as he pulls the soft blanket over the two of you, tucking it at your side to keep you warm.

His head hits the pillow, heavy lids closing, as he pulls you into his chest. There’s tension at first, on your part only. A hesitance to allow yourself to fully relax into the gentle embrace you’ve been desperately pining for. But the longer he holds you, his palm massaging your lower back in soothing figure eights, the more you soften.

“You don’t deserve this, you know?” he finally says when your tears have subsided and your breathing has evened out enough for you to speak. There’s exhaustion in those words as he says them, giving the impression that this is something he’s wanted to ask you for a long time. 

“Is this gonna be a lecture?” you sniffle, nervously patting the tears from the dips between his muscles, “Because I really don’t need a lecture right now.” 

Johnny laughs, letting out a yawn, “Nah, it’s too early for a lecture. My brain’s not heated up yet.” 

“Not heated up yet? What does that even mean?” you giggle, leaning to look up at him, your nose scrunched in confusion. Johnny opens his eyes, staring back at you with those starry brown orbs, and you’re transported back to the way you felt last night. If you thought his gaze made you want to melt from afar, it’s reducing you to volcanic ash at this distance. 

“Well, it’s like, when you first wake up your brain’s cold. Your thoughts are all jumbled so you’ve gotta wait a little, let it heat up” Johnny explains, the tips of his sable hair kissing your face.  

“You’re, uh…” you stutter, searching for the perfect word, “Really…interesting? Yeah, you’re interesting, Johnny Suh.” 

The most genuine smile takes over that handsome face as he lets out a joyful squeak, sincerely flattered by your comment. “Yeah? Well, so are you. You’re really interesting and cool and cute. I did mean that last night. You are cute.”

You tuck your head, trying to hide a smile of your own, but Johnny caresses your cheek, bringing you right back where he wants you. “Why do you let him treat you like that?” he asks without the slightest bit of judgment. Your smile fades as you contemplate a question you aren’t even sure you know the answer to. You file through 1001 possibilities before coming to the raw, painful truth. 

“I was trying to prove something, I guess” you confess, feeling an odd sense of relief at admitting this to him and yourself. “I thought if I could obtain the unattainable it’d be proof that I was special.”

Johnny scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Jaehyun? Unattainable? I could fuck him if I complemented him enough.” 

“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better” you huff, beginning to regret that moment of vulnerability. 

“No, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that he isn’t one of those people that can appreciate when they have something special.” 

You shrug in defeat, letting your fears tumble freely from your lips, “Yeah, I don’t know if any guy can at this point.”

“So you think we’re all the same?” he asks, tilting your head to let your lips brush his. His lips are like static, making the little hairs on your arm stand on end. Your heart’s running a marathon and the butterflies in your stomach are throwing fits. This can’t be happening. Only it is.

You swallow hard, inhaling the scent of the fresh morning air meddled with his cologne. “Well, I…I mean no one’s really shown me any different.” 

Johnny presses his lips to yours, lingering there for a moment to savor the warmth of your kiss. “Can you give it some time?” he whispers, fingers charting a course across the curve of your hip to take your hand into his. 

“It or you, Johnny?” you ask, silently begging him not to say a thing if it’s not something he means.

“Hmm,” he hums, bringing your hand up to gently kiss your inner wrist, your palm, your fingertips, “Me.” 

[melodyanqel]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏 ── ✦ h.ih. (one - reunion)

a pretty little thing, who grew up extremely sheltered and has never seen the horrors in life until she gets recuited in a mysterious competition.

⤷ pairing: hwang in-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, games, action, financial issues, gambling, betrayal, team bonding, family, possessive!sadistic!in-ho, sheltered!sunshine!oc

⤷ warning: mention of a character's death

⤷ wc: 1.3k words

⤷ note: this first chapter is so fluffy and a bit emotional but i had fun writing it and i said to myself no prologue just go right into the story

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @buckitostan

The café's honeyed hues bring sweetness to the day, coaxing an inner smile that warms from within.

Behind the counter, a young woman in her twenties is hard at work and her presence brightens the atmosphere like the glowing sun. Myung Yu-na is her name. She enjoys being a barista because she loves creating unique and delicious drinks. It may sound strange to many but sometimes not-so-extravagant things can be a passion. 

The happy-go-lucky Yu-na is viewed as too pure, wholesome, and, most importantly, very sheltered. Even though she still lives with her parents and they allow her to work and make some money for herself, Yu-na is too protected from the harsh realities and circumstances of the real world. Not once in her life has she seen or experienced any of it. 

Despite her lack of exposure, she is still a wonderful person. It did take a lot of courage and effort to convince her parents that she wanted to make decisions for herself until she reached adulthood. Yu-na will always love them and be grateful for everything they’ve done for her since she was born. 

“Yu-na! A customer is at the register!”

“Okay!”

She responds to her co-worker and a small grunt escapes her lips when putting the pesky lid on a mocha chocolate frappuccino. She calls out the order and the person’s name. Yu-na sees them approaching the counter. “Thank you, miss.” A sweet-looking elderly woman thanks her before taking the drink. 

Yu-na shows a kind smile. “You’re welcome. Have a great afternoon,” She said, cordially. “You too, miss.” The older woman returns the smile and leaves the place. 

Shortly after, Yu-na walks to the register to place the next order. “What can I get for you?” She asked a tall man dressed in dark clothes with a cap over his head, covering half of their face. She hears his deep, gruff voice speak. “Yu-na, how have you been?” He gives her a question. The young woman furrowed her brows with a confused look. 

Instantly, she gasps when he lifts the cap to reveal his face. Her dark brown eyes widened owlishly. “Oh my goodness! Uncle Gi-hun!” Yu-na says the man’s name in shock. A small smile plays on his wrinkled face. Hearing her angelic voice in so long makes him elated. She also has her ebony hair in double ponytails, like when she was a little girl.

Gi-hun’s niece responds, “I’m doing good. I’ll explain more when my lunch break starts in ten minutes. But I need your order.” She giggles blithely, her uncle almost forgot his coffee. Gi-hun clears his throat, “Yes. One warm Americano, please.” He said. Yu-na punches in his order on the register and gives him the price. She receives his money to pay for the drink and has him wait until it gets done. 

Within those ten minutes, Yu-na served Gi-hun’s Americano and three more customers. The uncle watches his niece do her best at being quick on her feet, kindly greeting people, and saying goodbye to them. Gi-hun was once like Yu-na before his life became what it is now. His youth was living a simple life with his mother and friends. If only he didn’t make those mistakes and throw his well-being away. Gi-hun’s expression downcasted. 

The winner of the 33rd game has the money he desires for a long time, but it’s meaningless to him. Gi-hun will forever feel tainted by the thought and look of the stacks of cash in his space, which is a rundown motel. 

Shortly enough, his train of thought gets interrupted. “I’m ready! Where do you want to start?” Yu-na happily has her cooked ramen cup and sits across from her uncle. He shifts his sitting position to face her with his back leaning against the chair. “How is everyone? Do you hear much from your aunt?” Gi-hun hops onto the topic of family. He does miss his sister-in-law or his ex-wife’s sister. Even though Gi-hun was never on good terms with Eun-ji after Ga-yeong came into the world, he does get along with her sister Yu-bin. 

“Omma and appa are doing well. The restaurant is still in business and they finally realized I should start my own life. I get that I’m a late bloomer, but I’ll keep on learning. Also, Auntie Eun-ji, I haven’t spoken to her since she left around 2021. It is much more difficult because of the time difference and adjusting to a new lifestyle.” Yu-na delivered a full response or an update about herself. She slurps on her noodles like a happy child.

Gi-hun sighed and nodded. “I see. That's great for your parents. I find it fascinating how they can keep running a business before you were born.” He chuckles dryly because he used to own businesses but failed to manage them properly. “I can understand not seeing your aunt as much. I wish to contact Ga-yeong more but I know her mother doesn’t want her to. But anyway, I’m glad you all are doing fine.” Gi-hun sips on his Americano and feels content, like a regular person. 

He has been out of touch with closure. It must be a miracle that Yu-na is unknowingly helping him. 

As they continued to talk, Gi-hun discovered new things about his niece. She has done a lot these past years; majoring in digital marketing because she gravitates towards creating her brand of art and clothes, making new friends, and going out more. Gi-hun can tell it’s a family thing to build your own business. He is even proud that she is becoming an independent woman. 

“How about you uncle? My family and I have been wondering where you’ve been. I’m also sorry for your omma.” Yu-na questions about his absence and she couldn’t help but mention his mother. It was devastating when she and her family received the news about her death because she practically raised both Yu-na and Ga-yeong. 

The older man answers the best he can to make it sound convincing. “I’ve been working overseas because I decided to wake up and find a better job. And I did. I’ve earned more than I usually get during my gambling days, which are done for. I got so busy that I couldn’t be at home as often. I then started to get homesick so I’m doing more of my duties here.” Gi-hun doesn’t want to look crazy in front of Yu-na if he talks about the game and has been searching for the so-called salesman.

As a pure and innocent girl, she takes his response as the truth. 

“I also took the time to heal when my omma passed. But thank you for your condolence.” Gi-hun truly appreciates Yu-na’s sympathy. She says to him, “Oh wow and you’re welcome! I hope you are proud of what you are doing. I’m sure your omma is too from above.” Her beautiful face draws a reassuring smile. 

Gi-hun feels the warmth spread across his cold, dark heart. He hopes Yu-na will never forget herself. She is still young, vibrant, and has a long life ahead. 

Thirty minutes felt so short, but it was worth having a moment of peace and freedom. Before Yu-na goes back to work, she sees her uncle standing up from the chair and moves aside with open arms. She mirrors his actions and to enter a long-awaited hug. It was comforting and full of love. He needed this. 

When they pull away from the embrace, Gi-hun says one last thing before leaving the café. “I wish you the best of luck on everything you do. And remember this, please make good decisions because I know it’s hard being careful but I know you’re smart and can handle anything. Stay safe out there.” He doesn’t know whether this will be their first and last time together, but he believes she’ll follow his advice. 

Yu-na delivers a merry smile. “Alright, uncle. Thank you for making my day.” She expressed joy that brought fondness in Gi-hun's dark gaze. “You’re welcome. I hope to see you again.” The uncle bids his farewell to his niece who nods her head in a silent yet sincere response. Yu-na watches Gi-hun walk out of the café, feeling a bit bittersweet.

She hopes to see him again as well. 

series masterlist | two

[orcasoul]

Joel Miller Imagine #5

Warnings: sexual themes (under 18's DNI)

Word Count: 818

Jackson boyfriend Joel who took longer to settle into Jackson than you and Ellie did. Who, even though there's no immediate danger, always keeps an eye on you when you're out and about (old habits die hard). Who gives a death glare to any man he catches checking you out, silently signifying that you are off limits. Who is slowly becoming more comfortable showing affection to you in public, no matter what some may think of your age gap of twenty years. Who fiercely loves the little family you've all become.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who wakes up every morning thankful that the three of you made it here in one piece. Who takes a moment some mornings to watch your peaceful expression as you sleep, chuckling quietly when you mumble something incoherently while dreaming (you can be adorably vocal when you're asleep). Who wakes you up for breakfast by nibbling at your ear lobe, causing you to giggle and hide under the covers. Who sometimes still can't believe the simple, domestic life you all get to live now, knowing it should never be taken for granted. Who will do everything he can to ensure Jacksons' prosperity -patrols, building maintenance, farming - anything, if it means you actually get to live and not just survive.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who is still adjusting to community life; after so many years in different QZ's, where everyone kept their heads down and business private, it's quite the change to be surrounded by decent, friendly people who aren't out to take advantage and exploit each other. Who has to remind himself that people approaching you and Ellie no longer means danger, but at the same time, he's ready to defend at a moments notice. Who smiles to himself when he sees your effort to integrate and realises that if you're pushing yourself out of your comfort zone to become part of this society, then he should do the same.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who still has nightmares about losing his daughter, but now the nightmares also include you and Ellie. Who sometimes wakes up silently in a cold sweat and after the reassurance that you're okay, sleeping soundly next to him, he gets up to quietly check on Ellie in the next room before settling back down. Who sometimes is awoken by your voice calling his name and your hand stroking his cheek. Who lets you pull his head to rest on your chest as you lay down; the soothing sound of your heart beating against his ear quelling the fear and tension plaguing him.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who always makes sure you're both on patrol together - wether it's just the two of you or a group - if you're going beyond the walls he's going with you. Who instantly reverts to the survivor he's been for the past twenty years when on patrol, listening (with his good ear), watching and waiting for any and every possibility, all while keeping close to you. Who fears sometimes that life in Jackson might make you both unintentionally complacent and that's something neither of you can afford.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who often attends social events, mostly for you and Ellie. Who'd promised himself that he'd give you both the life you deserve and if that means putting up with meaningless chit chat from the locals, so be it. Who enjoys seeing you make friends with other women your age (after all you need more than his grumpy old ass). Who groans in amused frustration when you pull him up to slow dance with the other couples. Who knows exactly how you get when you're tipsy, your eager eyes slowly dragging down his neck to his exposed collarbone, teeth grazing your plush bottom lip and sending his blood rushing south. Who discreetly follows you to the toilets after you've "excused yourself" and moments later is buried to the hilt inside your pulsating pussy as he fucks up into you against the cubical door, while you bite down on his neck to keep from screaming. Who, because of you, feels like a horny teenager all over again.

Jackson boyfriend Joel who's chest swells with pride when he sees how close you and Ellie have become with Tommy and Maria. Who never thought he'd have anything close to resembling a family again, but here he is with a second chance of having exactly that; of course he feels the pang of regret when his thoughts drift towards Sarah and even though she's not physically present, she's still here, treasured safely within his heart. Who has begun to realise that calling himself your boyfriend feels to simple and casual a statement compared to the depth of his love and gratitude towards you. Who wants to spend the rest of his life making you as happy as you make him. Who very soon will make it official by asking you a most important question.

[daisys-reality]

♡ꜞ˖ ᴘɪᴄᴋ-ᴀ-ᴄᴀʀᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ

What do you fear as a shifter? How should you deal with it? 🍞

⌇ reality shifting themed tarot reading | masterlist | voting

pile one

Overall, you seem to struggle with taking ownership of the decisions you make. And you’re quick to overthink things and together this causes a lot of inner conflict. It seems that one major thing here in regards to your shifting journey is that you fear is being stuck in limbo, you might be anxious over how long it takes and how you might possibly miss opportunities because of this ‘delay’. As others (seem to) move forward, you fear being left behind by the world. This makes you ponder a lot about what direction your life (/shifting journey) is going in… over and over again… and it makes you feel confused, unsure and hesitant. You need to remember that you are the master of your own destiny. Don’t try to blame ‘the universe’ if your situation is a result of choices that you’ve made. 

Sometimes it might feel intimidating to take the first step toward resolving the inner conflict and its roots but that doesn’t mean progress isn’t possible. You can break this frustrating ‘feeling of stagnation’ with some creativity, courage, and clarity! Just do whatever you can to make YOURSELF feel like you’re (more) ready to face whatever is coming towards you - whether you review past DR ideas and scripts or indulge more into DR related topics etc. The point is that you should counterattack your overthinking nature - if you feel that you start spiraling again, do something to assure yourself and to get on track again! Your mind will often have conflicting thoughts but don’t let it ruin your decision making skills.

On a side note, you might also fear getting hurt in your DR - whether mentally, emotionally or physically. There is some kind of imbalance or gap between mind and heart or just misaligned values. If you feel like you’re forcing yourself to experience things that you actually don’t want to experience (or that make you lowkey uncomfortable), try to think about where this stems from. I feel like you might not even be aware of the fact that you’re doing this… Re-evaluate your choices and address these misalignments (inner conflicts) to regain your balance back and to clear up the mental fog. Trying to develop a deeper understanding of your DR self,  their values and beliefs might also help you in understanding what you actually want to experience there. Good luck!

pile two

This is a bit tricky but i think you might fear becoming or being emotionally immature, not wanting to come to terms with your feelings, being defensive about it and lying to yourself or trying to deceive yourself that you’re okay/strong/healthy etc. through senseless meaningless pursuits/things (ex. casual flings, shopping, eating - leading to dependencies/addictions). Frightened and threatened by your own sensitivity, fearing losing control over your emotions, you might try to conceal your insecurities by presenting a distant and uncaring (or overly strong, pretty, overpowered = flawless=unreachable) facade to the outer world. In fact, you might fear being controlled by emotions (through yourself or others) or becoming someone who misuses their emotional intelligence. This might stem from past trauma where you experienced emotional dynamics that were used to manipulate or to exert control. Overall, there is a need for setting boundaries, learning how to be more resilient against emotional manipulations, and becoming more emotionally stable and confident/free/autonome through healthy self expression and management of emotions.

You might also fear not achieving the desired level of success, stability or happiness. You yourself might even worry about becoming too materialistic, too arrogant or losing touch with other values the more time you spend as a (limitless) shifter. While you understand how lucky you are to get to know about shifting in this life, how many opportunities this brings and how it can provide security and comfort, it might not necessarily be solely ‘enough’ to lead to a fulfilling life. You’re concerned about how to balance all these things to not turn into extremes. Deep down, it’s very important to you that you maintain your integrity but you’re afraid of not being strong or capable enough to do so in the face of these limitless opportunities and freedom that shifting entails. Trying to focus more on quality than quantity while choosing your path (your journeys, DRs, your background, your life etc.) will bring you closer to a fulfilling life. 

pile three

You seem to fear discontentment and dissatisfaction at a personal level. You fear that all these experiences will just lead to apathy, disinterest and overall detachment from life or from being alive! You worry that life will just feel boring in the end and you’re scared of what that means. This might be triggering for some but some of you might ultimately fear coming to a point where you’d rather want to d*e then stay alive. 

I can see that deep down you take this very seriously and you have respect for the freedom and limitlessness that shifting offers you but you know how we humans are and how fragile our mind can become just because we’re not ‘prepared’ or ready yet for what we have to face in our lives. 

If you had the choice, you would like to always have a direction or an end destination in mind, you might hate living an aimless life. You don’t want to stagnate; you want to always progress. And while you hate feeling like you’re trapped in your circumstances, you oftentimes stay unwilling to make sacrifices for change because you fear wasting these sacrifices or missing opportunities later on because of these sacrifices. There might be an overall resistance to letting go or a reluctance to see things from a new perspective. I feel like you're someone that would hate being a people pleaser and not having any independent thoughts - becoming narrow minded like others (in your opinion). You don’t want to bend down or surrender. And coming back to the beginning, you fear reaching a point in your life as a shifter where you feel like you have no further direction, where you feel pushed into a corner, forced to start living like the others and adapting their mindset because your way of doing things led you to a stalemate. 

You need to remember that this perception you have is influenced by your attitude and opinions and is not completely free of prejudice or illusions. While some of these imaginings might be a possibility, it is important not to lose yourself in those or rather to not restrict yourself by those imposed limits. Why think about the end when you haven’t even fully started your journey? Stay open-minded. Seek stability in this overwhelming chaos of opportunities. Release outdated attachments, learn as you go and do so with flow -  learn about what makes you happy and what fulfills you. There is no need to think about the afterwards when you haven’t even come close to the end. Just think about the next step while taking care of yourself, your health and happiness. You won’t be hanging aimlessly in the air, you’re more than capable to assert control and structure in your life, at any time. But try to do so with integrity, flexibility and empathy to ensure that your ‘order’ does not become oppression (of yourself).

[misscrawfords]

I was listening to Pride and Prejudice on my drive back from my mother's today and it's been so long since I've actually read the novel as opposed to engaged with one or other adaptation...

Goodness, it's good, isn't it? And Elizabeth is so much more complex a character than she is often presented in adaptations.

The thing that was standing out to me today - I was listening to from when Mr. Collins proposes to Charlotte and I stopped just when Elizabeth was talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam at Rosings - was the chapter which is just Jane and Elizabeth talking about Bingley. This gets cut from adaptations or so condensed to be meaningless, but it's incredible. It's just a whole chapter of the sisters chewing over why Bingley ghosted Jane (for lack of a better term) and what Caroline's motivations were and the thing that gets me is that they're both right. Jane is right that Bingley can't be blamed for being a friendly young man and that he had no malicious intentions but Elizabeth is also right that young men can be thoughtless in their dealings with women who have less freedom than them and their thoughtlessness can do real hurt. (She's also right about Caroline, of course.) It struck me as such a modern issue. Maybe I've just been thinking about the unwitting hurt that thoughtless young men can cause recently, but everything is so complicated. Bingley is a flake who makes a mistake with regards to Jane but he's also a genuinely lovely young man who makes it right in the end - he's still on his own journey through life which he will continue with Jane. Jane herself lets her desire to see the best in others cause her to see friendship where it isn't, but being deceived in a friend is not so uncommon, is it? And she's not stupid or weak. Heck, she endures her heartbreak being talked about openly by her mother in public for months silently and without rancour. And she does it all without ever resenting Bingley! Jane's the strongest character in the whole novel and an inspiration to the rest of us - FIGHT ME on this!

The other thing I really picked up on was what an important moment in Elizabeth's character development Charlotte's engagement is. It actually kind of breaks my heart - her best friend makes a life choice that she can't support but has to and nothing will ever be the same again between them. It's the first dent into Elizabeth's world view that forces her to see that people are different from her and can make different decisions and this is okay and not just something she can laugh at. It's so relatable in terms of life events - when a close friend marries and then when they have a baby, these things absolutely still do alter friendships. Elizabeth gets over it and even enjoys seeing Charlotte in Hunsford but we are frequently reminded by the narrator that the previous confidences they enjoyed will never be the same again. It's a really big moment for Elizabeth and really the first event in the novel to start to shake her foundations of her comfortable existence. The other two are Bingley's desertion of Jane and Wickham's decision to pursue Mary King over her. By the time she goes to Hunsford, she is prepared in a way for the final massive shock to the foundations of The World According to Lizzy Bennet, not that she knows it. Such is growing up.

And OMG Lady Catherine is SO vulgar and inappropriate! She is a direct parallel to Mrs. Bennet and the rest of the Bennets. Just as Elizabeth feels accute embarrassment at the Netherfield Ball, Mr. Darcy is feeling exactly the same at Rosings. Beautifully done. But their awareness of what is appropriate behaviour is something that unifies Darcy and Elizabeth even if Darcy massively fails to behave like a human around Elizabeth. Pride and Prejudice is such an expose and examination of "how to behave in social situations". There is nobody who doesn't come under scrutiny and pretty much every type of behaviour is gone over with a fine tooth comb.

Sometimes I feel almost ashamed when people ask me what my favourite novel is and I say "Pride and Prejudice" because it's such a damn cliche. I should say something heavier or more obscure or at least I should say it's Persuasion, the "thinking girl"'s favourite Austen. But P&P is so special to me on so many levels and you know what? It is a MASTERFULLY written book.

[number1greedlingfan]

Headcanons that are meaningless to everyone but me (or extremely niche inside jokes formed by my friend group)

Hawkeye finds pleasantries, mostly "hello"s and "goodbye"s, pointless and kind of annoying. She'll sometimes engage in them in person but never over the phone. She often hangs up while the other person is mid "bye".

Havoc's "tried and true" opener on dates is that he prefers rainy weather because he, quote, "loves to curl up by the window with a good book and some tea". This is not only a bold-faced lie, but it hasn't helped him get past the first date so it's not any more effective than his other lines.

Fuery pulls more women than Havoc does (not that there was any competition lmao) but he is somehow unaware of this.

Mustang's singular hobby that he does purely for fun is building model ships. His only social interaction is with his coworkers because he does not have any other friends.

Ed thinks Winry is cooped up in her shop all day and all night but that's literally only when he shows up because he DOES IT UNANNOUNCED!! Winry has a thriving social life both in Resembool and Rush Valley. She knows every single person in Resembool and keeps tabs on the neighbors. She's invited to dinners and group outings all the time. People mourned when she moved to RV. Within a month of working at Garfiel's, she'd already met most of the people on the street and she remembers most of their names.

Because of her interests, it's often assumed that Winry is a "not like other girls" type but she is the exact opposite. If you say a single misogynistic thing about other girls' interests (like astrology or pop music) on a first date she is getting up and leaving.

Ling is hypermobile and can bend his hands like this️ ⬇️ as well as do things like back bends and pulling his shoulders out of their sockets. When he was younger he would go up to literally anyone (family members, visiting officials, perfect strangers) and ask if they wanted to see him pull his shoulder out and then not wait for an answer.

Ling's favorite fruit is mango. When he was seven he refused to eat anything but that and had so many that he threw up at a family function. (Mangos were ruined for him for two years.)

Lan Fan does not get sick often but when she does It's Bad and she's taken out for a week or more. When she was younger and delirious with fever, she started distressedly mumbling that she was turning into a cookie. Nothing would convince her otherwise (Fu tried everything). In the end, they had to get Ling to help and he calmed her down in seconds by saying "there are no crumbs so I think you're probably okay".

This is a small one: Lan Fan is on the ace spectrum.

When Mei cooks for other people she makes it as cute as humanly possible. Everything that can have a smiley face or heart on it will. Side note, Al and Mei are 100% a couple that cooks together.

Mei is a little bit fujopilled. You understand.

While he seems shady as hell, Greed's rap sheet is actually pathetically small. The worst crime he's ever committed is, of course, the single instance of kidnapping that we saw on screen.

Greed doesn't understand electricity. He thinks it's powered by electric eels ("eelectricity") and has numerous drawings in his diaries theorizing on the mechanics of these machines. Ex: A generator that has an eel tank with a water wheel inside of it. The drawing is accented with large arrows and question marks and "HOW DOES IT WORK"s. That being said! He's not stupid in all academics. Give this guy some numbers and put it in a financial context and he can calculate anything.

Greed likes the "finer things" but he also has bad taste and sometimes these clash horribly. Is the furniture in his home expensive? Yes. Does any of it match in any conceivable way? Fuck no. Also that nice walnut hutch that cost 1.5K is used solely to display his novelty bong collection.

Heinkel and Darius only became close and discovered the other was gay because of the Camping Trip. So,

[matchaelette]

GIF from pinterest

when exhausted jungkook is equal to a cranky jungkook but you’re just a simple girl

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, both ash and jungkook are working very hard and they’re exhausted to the point where it feels like they might drop dead soon. kook gets frustrated because ash won’t pay him enough attention but soon she ends up pampering his majesty’s ass anyways. also, there’s a backdrop on ash’s life; she is a musician and a part of iu’s band.

genre: pure fluff.

warning: none. go crazy children

word count: 4.5k

notes: I know I know, like, a part of iu’s band? isn’t that a bit too much? nah it’s not. I have enough reality chasing me irl, let me have my fun here. also, I hope ya’ll are doing okay. a new year comes with a lot of expectations and responsibilities so don’t be too hard on yourselves <3 happy 2024 peeps :D

“what. do you want. jeon jungkook.”

“ooh she used the full name, have I been a bad boy?”, the words tumble down your boyfriend’s lips with a dramatic flare, followed by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, unfazed by the sheer force of your previous sentence, “what do you mean what do I want? attention and affection, of course.”

not that you’re counting, but what you assume to be the nineteenth sigh tonight, leaves your lips. your eyelids were so heavy that you doubted if even a fire in the building could wake you up. exhaustion tore at your limbs and you didn’t have the power to lift your eyelids to shoot a glare at your golden retriever boyfriend, let alone muster enough energy to face him and provide him... what did he say again? attention and affection.

you’ve been tirelessly working throughout the week, barely having time to eat or sleep. almost every day you’re coming back home at four in the morning, when jungkook is sound asleep, and leaving again in three hours, when he is yet to wake up. it’s the first time in quite a few days that you came home at a reasonable hour and were tangled in the bed with a very much awake jungkook. but as much as you want to entertain him, your body does not seem willing to cooperate.

you’re a musician, and boy when you pursued a music career, you never thought it could ever make you tired. music has been your love and your life since you could remember and a very fundamental part of your life. whether it was humming random strings of sounds while having your diaper changed as a baby (your parents’ word) or singing meaningless lyrics to any tune you heard when you started talking (again, your parents’ word), your love for music has always just grown. you’re now a full-blown musician, having the privilege to work with all the a-rated musicians of the world. you are pretty much a regular member of iu’s band— iu being the living legend of korea and the forever-long crush of jungkook’s life— but you still worked with other artists from time to time, sometimes as a producer, sometimes as a composer.

throughout your high school years, you developed a reputation as the person who would randomly start humming during examinations, writing lyrics on her exam papers, and always playing instruments or plainly singing in every single school function. and if that wasn’t a wake-up call, getting scouted as a musician through your personal instagram was certainly one. it happened right during the end of high school when you were preparing for uni, and the single event changed everything in your life. you were scouted by an agency called bighit, and they convinced you to audition, intriguing you enough to skip school one day and show up in a rusty building in the gangnam district of seoul with a guitar hanging on your shoulder. impressed by your skills, they signed you up as a trainee.

it was one of the best things that happened in your life.

ironically, it was also where you met your boyfriend for the first time.

saying your parents weren’t happy when you decided to completely backtrack from uni and focus solely on music would be an understatement. you were always an exceptional student— part of the reason your teachers would always overlook you humming in class or using your projects as a canvas for your musical colors— and were supposed to major in business studies as your parents’ wishes. while it was never something you hated— in fact, you always thought that you’d rather be a super successful businesswoman if you couldn’t be a musician— but having your first choice being handed to you on a silver platter, you'd be a fool not to take it. your parents were enraged, they cut you off from the family entirely, but you were nothing if not stubborn. determined to make it, alone if you have to, you've worked your ass off for all these years to get into the position you’re in now, a place where your name is gold-plated in the music industry.

but success was never truly your goal. your goal was to simply stay immersed in a world of music and you can’t help but take pride of how far all alone. but working like your life depended on it became sort of a habit, sometimes to the point where a singular musical note could make you groan. you don’t sing as much as you used to back in high school, instead, you use up all your time to compose music and play the guitars for iu.

said idol is supposed to be having a comeback very soon, somewhere your boyfriend’s bandmate was also going to star— kim taehyung— and so work has been extra draining lately, with everyone trying to master every single detail and point.

“kook, stoooop”, you whine, burying your face in the soft pillow, waterfalls of hair obscuring your vision as you make a feeble attempt to wriggle out of jungkook’s grasp. but he is relentless. he rolls his eyes and manhandles you back into his arms, causing you to let out a small yelp as your back presses against his chest.

jungkook, himself, was tired as hell. while you were coming back at four in the morning, he was coming back at three, working equally hard as you. jungkook is always driven by his passions and he never hesitates to work hard for it, but despite that fact, this week has been particularly challenging, especially with the pressure of working on his own solo album. the lack of food and sleep was almost getting to him, leaving him irritable to the point where he almost snapped at the choreographer. although he apologized quickly, he noticed that he was in the mood where people pick up fights for no reason. he decided to just come back home and get some rest before something else could provoke him, but when he discovered you were at home as well, he couldn’t help but get clingy. after all, you guys haven’t properly talked for weeks.

and he missed you.

“c’mon, I can’t even see your face”, jungkook props himself up on his elbow, his breath gently fanning your face.

“we’ve already established the fact i’m pretty. let me sleep, kook.”

“aren’t pretty faces meant to be looked at?”

jungkook furrows his brows when he gets no answer from you. he blinks furiously to keep his own exhaustion at bay and studies your face to see if you’ve already drifted off to sleep. your eyes are closed, and he can feel the steady rhythm of your heart inside the hoodie of his that you’re wearing. he can also sense you’re not asleep though. not yet anyway.

“babeee”, jungkook lets out a high-pitched whimper and immediately yelps when you elbow him in the ribs but he isn’t sure which one strikes a nerve, the elbow or the words that follow.

“dude, would you please let me sleep? I am tired as fuck and I have to wake up early”, you grit your teeth in clear annoyance, not even bothering to open your eyes, “unlike some people”

jungkook feels a twinge of guilt, but he can also feel a surge of a new emotion. anger? before he can fully comprehend what is going on, inconsiderate words escape his mouth.

“so am I. but you don't see me complaining all the time.”

your eyes fly open. before you can fully discern their meaning of jungkook’s words, he moves away from you, retreating completely to his side of the bed and putting as much space between your bodies as possible. you use your last fragments of remaining energy to prop yourself up into a half-seated position to face him, but jungkook has already turned his back on you.

“what is that supposed to mean?”

silence.

“jungkook, what the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“go to sleep, okay?”, his quiet voice makes you falter and you immediately understand that he is angry. though for what, you don’t quite understand.

“jungkook, i’m sleepy, okay? and—”

“then sleep! no one’s stopping you now.”

“but you’re mad at me for being tired! how is that fair? i’ve been working like crazy—”

“geez, sorry for being unfair, ash”, sarcasm drips from jungkook’s voice and you don’t like that in the slightest, “I also have to wake up early, earlier than you in fact, so please let me sleep.”

an uncomfortable silence follows his sentence.

“alright”, you sigh and drop it after staring at his back for a few seconds. you don’t want to get into an argument now, not when both of you are on the verge of collapsing, prone to say things you don’t mean at all. you’d rather sleep and deal with it in the morning when both of you are well rested and not running on two hours of sleep and a shit ton of caffeine.

it’s not always you get to see this side of jungkook. anyone who knows him knows that the boy is crafted from starry skies and honeyed galaxies alone, always smiling a bit too easily and lighting everyone around him as bright as the evening star.

however, every time you see a crack at his easy, carefree demeanor, you can’t help but feel a sense of helplessness within. jungkook doesn’t get irritated often and certainly not easily, but when he does, his behavior takes a different turn. he doesn’t shout or scream or take his anger out on inanimate objects as you tend to do. instead, he completely shuts himself out of the world. every curt answer feels like a form of silent treatment, every word spoken laces itself with sarcasm, always hitting where it hurts the most. even though he never takes his anger out on you, you don’t like seeing him like this.

if you knew he would react like this, you would have given a little more effort to remain awake in his company. jungkook may be childish but he rarely behaves like this. and you’re just a simple girl, hopelessly in love with the boy who has his back turned to you.

“goodnight”, you draw closer to him and drape an arm around his waist hesitantly. when he doesn’t stir or reply, a dejected sigh escapes your lips. nonetheless, you tenderly wrap the blanket around him and nestle your face at the nape of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh linen and mint.

despite the fatigue draping your limbs, despite jungkook starting to softly snore within minutes, it takes you an entire hour to fall asleep.

you let out yet another groan as memories from last night come flooding back into your mind. it has been like that all day, the memories coming and going as they pleased, striking you with a sense of disappointment every time they do. jungkook was already gone when you woke up in the morning and despite knowing he had an early schedule, you couldn't help but feel downhearted.

you immediately checked your phone back then, hoping to find a message from him but much to your disappointment, there was none. both you and jungkook had quite hectic schedules, but it became an unspoken agreement in the house to update each other about your days ever since you moved in together. jungkook would always leave little neon post-its on the fridge with messages— reminder to eat something before you get coffee!!! and call me after you wake up, let’s get lunch together??? — whenever he left the house before you were up and vice versa. soon, the post-its turned into text messages because it was always easier in the rush of the mornings. jungkook would always wake up to texts from you— before you get mad, I did kiss you before leaving but you wouldn’t budge— and he would instantly call you to check if your schedules aligned and if he could pick you up after work.

but having no text from jungkook this morning could mean only one thing.

he is still mad.

despite being agitated because of your lack of basic human activities, you pushed aside those emotions and called him immediately. you got more worried when jungkook didn’t pick the phone up because you knew he wasn’t one to hold petty grudges. you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed then, brushing and getting ready to face the day. now that you’ve had gained a few hours of rest, you realized how tired jungkook looked last night. you could almost hear the constant grumbles from his stomach that pointed out how hungry he was. But he kept saying that he didn’t have the energy to eat. you could see the swollen eyelids and the purple hue outlining it more clearly, how he walked unsteadily as if he was drunk.

jungkook called you back while you were on your way to work. you weren’t really surprised but it still dissipated some of your nerves. he explained that his phone was on silent and he didn’t see your call but his voice still sounded distant and his responses were short. he also mentioned that he might not come home tonight, hoping to squeeze in some extra practice hours.

he didn’t call you once for the rest of the day.

very un-jungkook of him.

and you were too busy to call him.

it is nearly midnight now. you find yourself inside your car, driving through the dimly lit streets of seoul. despite the hour, the city is bustling, alive with people and emotions. driving through the city always puts you at ease; you hated crowds but you loved observing people, the multitudes of emotions they go through every moment, making every one so much different than another but still intricately woven within love and life.

after the long day, you yearned for the warmth and comfort of your bed, considering skipping the shower part because that’s how drained you were. you didn’t eat anything all day, something that has become a routine now, save for the apple you grabbed while leaving the house in the morning. minus the seven-something cups of coffee.

yet you find yourself driving in the direction of the hybe studios.

you’re almost near the building when a sudden realization makes you click your tongue in annoyance. should have gotten some flowers. why did I not think of that before?

you park your car and make your way inside the extravagant building. the staff knew you well by now, both from your days as a trainee and your frequent visits to your boyfriend and his bandmates. you ascend to the top floor of the establishment, going straight toward one of the empty practice rooms jungkook loves to use whenever he is rehearsing on his own.

pushing the door open, you enter the room. the space is slightly dark, only illuminated with neon purple lights, ridiculously confirming your boyfriend’s presence to you. call it jungkook being jungkook, but your boyfriend hates harsh lights. you don’t doubt that he would happily reside in the darkness for the rest of his life if he was asked to.

you spot jungkook in the farthest corner of the room— hybe practice rooms are scarily huge— a blur of black sweats and bobbing hair, vigorously throwing hooks and uppercuts at the gray punching bag hanging in front of him. even from a distance you can see that he is completely absorbed in his own world, a side of him that you have come to know well over the years. this jungkook is full of energy and passion. this jungkook is the golden maknae of bts, putting his heart and soul into whatever he was working on, squeezing every last drop of capability, and surpassing every single one of his limits every minute. this is the boy who keeps on giving birth to beauty, elegance, and unparalleled talent.

you didn’t like to disrupt jungkook’s concentration when he was working so you decide to sit silently until he noticed your himself. however, concern washes over you when you see the lack of gloves in his hand. instead, his hands are wrapped with gauze and tape as he mercilessly throws jabs at the punching bag, and you can notice the blood seeping through the rips of the cloth around his knuckles.

“are you trying to piss me off on purpose?”, you hiss softly, walking towards him and putting your palm on his shoulder so as not to scare him. but jungkook yelps in shock anyways, bambi eyes wide and startled like a deer caught in front of headlights.

“ash?”

“why are you not wearing gloves?”, you take his hands into your own, flinching when you get a good look at it. his knuckles were visible through the torn cloth, red and angry, blood seeping through the gashes on his skin.

“sorry—”, jungkook throws you a sheepish glance, recovering from the initial shock, “—when did you come here? wait, why are you here?”

“to kick your ass”, you say, exasperated, “seriously jungkook, how hard is it to wear a glove? you just take the damn thing and squeeze your hand insi—”

“I did! but then it tore somehow”

you scowled.

“it’s true! look! I threw it on the ground when it ripped. it’s still there!”

“then don’t punch so hard!”

“but I have to train!”, jungkook pouted, hoping his cute facial expression would calm you down. you scowled more.

you huff, releasing his hands and making your way toward the line of closets in the back of the room. it’s where the first aid kits are usually kept. you know every practice room in the entire building has one or two of these because this is where most of the accidents happens. you can sense jungkook’s gaze following you but he remains mute.

getting what you need, you take a seat on the furnished floor and pat it, urging jungkook to do the same. he falls silent once again, any surprise from your unexpected arrival which urged him to talk normally wore off and the tension was back.

jungkook complies and sits down in front of you. he takes a good few seconds to stare at your outstretched palms before sighing in defeat and offering you his hands when he notices your enraged glare. He doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of your rage. and doesn’t matter he says, he would be lying if he said his hands didn’t throb from the pain.

you carefully remove the white gauges from his hands, wincing when more blood oozes out. looking at red cuts and bruises across his skin almost physically pains you, but jungkook stays completely silent, eyes drinking you in. he recalls being mad at you but he can’t quite recall the reason. it’s not because he can't remember now, especially with you here, tending to his wounds in such a delicate manner that you fear you would hurt him. as if something as gentle as your touch could ever cause him harm. not because you look like you were put on this earth to solely heal his hands. and not because you showed up here unannounced. because he genuinely can’t remember what made him so mad at you last night, literally out of thin air, and now he feels embarrassed at his own immaturity.

he just couldn’t figure out how to approach you after being a total jerk.

weird how humans tend to hurt the ones they love the most, almost always for no particular reason at all.

you finish your work wordlessly, putting band-aids around his knuckles and ointment on the cuts peppering his fingers. letting his hands fall onto his lap, you gather the bloodied materials from the floor and rise up to throw them in the waste paper box. jungkook follows your suit, standing up cluelessly.

“you’re gonna start throwing punches again?”

“hmm? uh no— I think I will practice the choreographies now”

“okay”, you sigh.

jungkook looks like hell, you realize. his messy hair is messier than usual, sticking out wildly at all angles, eyes droopy and rimmed with circles darker than you remember seeing last night. sweat glistened on his hunched figure tired from the physical exertion, soaking his sweatshirt.

you know you look just as worn out as him. you can feel it by the way he looks at you.

“uh so— are you gonna drive ho—”

“come with me.”

jungkook’s eyes widen as you wrap your arms around his torso, hiding your head on his chest. while a sweaty jungkook usually makes you giggle out a gross and maneuver far away, you hug him with gentle ardor, more so than usual.

you just want him to come home tonight.

“ash, sweetheart, i’m sweating”, jungkook tries to pry himself away from you but you just hold him tighter.

“don’t care. please come home.”

jungkook goes limp in your clutch for a few seconds before he’s softly hugging you back. of course, he would go home if you wanted him to, you didn’t need to ask him twice. who the heck is he to deny you? always a prisoner to your wishes, always prisoner to your love, and gladly so. how could he not? he rests his chin on your head and sways your body from side to side in a rhythm.

“okay”

“really?”

“really.”

the drive back home was short.

you drove, as jungkook was all out of it. he didn’t have the physical and mental coordination to walk down the building to the car, how the boy was gonna rehearse overnight, you had no idea.

“whoops, babe how were you gonna dance?” you supported his weight leaning down on you while you were walking, steading yourself before both of you fell on the ground, one arm wrapped around his torso, his figure hunched and head resting on your neck.

“I can walk. I am just choosing not to since you’re here”, he flashed you a grin with his eyes closed.

after arriving home, jungkook went straight to the shower and for a few seconds, you contemplated joining him. however, recalling how jungkook’s grumbling tummy throughout the whole ride, made you change your decision. he mentioned that he didn’t eat anything fulfilling all day. that is why you told him to freshen up and made a beeline towards the kitchen to make some instant ramen, not very healthy but quick and easy, and always gratifying.

so here you are now, serving ramen into two bowls with the leftover kimchi you guys had in the fridge. sleepiness makes your eyelids droop and you feel like prying them open with scotch tapes.

like tom, you snort to yourself, from tom and jerry.

man, you loved that cartoon during your childhood.

after all these years, you still don’t know if you’re team tom or team jerry.

hearing a faint clicking sound, you turn around and see jungkook approaching you, shirtless and clad in sweatpants. the shower had done marvels because he looks as attractive as he always does, with the water dripping down his damp hair onto the well-defined muscles in his chest. feeling a blush creep in, you quickly avert your eyes.

both of you are tired enough without resorting to er— any other activities for the night.

“what are you doing in the kitchen?” jungkook stares at you with confused doe eyes.

“putting food on the table like the dutiful girlfriend I am.”

“pretty sure that’s wife material”, jungkook whispers as he works his way into your arms, tugging your waist flushed with his.

“kook, you need to dry your hair properly! you’ll catch a cold”, you scold him softly, feeling greasy when you see him so fresh and glowy. you card a hand through his locks, feeling it to be more sopping than it seemed. you break free from his grasp to grab a towel from the washroom, ignoring the loud protests.

“sit”, you command, gesturing for jungkook to sit on one of the stools lining the kitchen island. when he complies, you gently massage his head with the towel, squeezing every last drop of remaining water from his hair. jungkook prefers to air dry his hair when he is at home, allowing it to get some rest from all the heat and styling he has to do on a regular basis, but he also religiously manages to forget at least soaking the water out.

he grabs you closer by pulling your waist. you stand between his thighs and continue massaging his scalp while he muffles his face on your chest, desperately seeking your warmth and comfort. a smile stretches across your face watching jungkook moan in satisfaction.

“how are the hands?”

“mmm good. need to put more band-aids”, his voice comes out hoarse being squished in your chest, “you didn’t need to cook. I know you are tired.”

“but i’m hungry too”

“oh. let’s eat then! it smells so fucking good!”

and jungkook’s sudden burst of enthusiasm prompts a hearty laugh from you, endeared to your core, just as you always find yourself enamored by his every action.

“what. do you want. jeon jungkook.”

jungkook’s soft laughter echoes inside the room in response to the aggression in your tone. he pulls you closer to himself, wrapping an arm tightly around your torso once your back is secured against his chest. after finishing your meal, jungkook volunteered to clean the dishes while we waited for you to take a shower. now that both of you are clean and full, you find yourselves tangled together in bed once again; your usual routine, you trying to sleep and jungkook trying to keep you awake.

“I want you to eat well. I want you to sleep well. you. I want you. always you”, he presses his face in your hair, taking in the aroma of wood and wild berries.

“and I am sorry”, he adds quietly.

you stir when you hear his words, turning around in his hold to face him. you know what he is apologizing for.

“well, you should be.”

“I really am.”

“i'm kidding, kook. you don’t need to be sorry. you were tired and—”

“but see, that’s the thing! every time I tell you that i’m tired and just want to sleep, you make damn sure I get some actual rest but I—”, he gestures at himself, looking at you with utmost concentration, “start acting like a spoiled child when I don’t get absolutely one hundred percent of your attention.”

“can't really disagree with that.”

“hey!”

“your words, not mine!”, you let out a squeal as jungkook tries to tickle you, holding him tighter in an attempt to make him stop, “love, that’s a part of you. and I adore that. that you feel comfortable enough to get mad at me for nothing. I don’t want you all smiley and cheery, without the bad things. I love you. and I want you as... you.”

“however annoying you may be”, you add as an afterthought.

jungkook scrunches his nose, “I am pretty annoying from time to time, aren’t I?”

“oh boy, you have no idea.”

“wow. am I imagining things or does everyone feel like you’re in a mood to constantly attack me tonight?”, he hugs you tighter if possible, shrugging, “my fault for loving you so much, I guess.”

“well, I am very lovable.”

“...oh boy, you have no idea.”

[moutainrusing]

sweeten up

First and foremost: Sirius was never serious. That was the glaringly obvious fact about him, even if his name was Sirius, he never took anything seriously. Of course, he could say he did anyway, for example, if someone were to ask:

“Are you serious?!”

Sirius could easily reply, hand clutching his pearls as he gasped, “Of course I’m Sirius! Are you trying to question my identity?!”

Really, he was always Sirius, and he was never serious.

To him, it always seemed like Remus was the most serious of all. It kind of annoyed him. Sure, they were friends. Remus was more James’s and Peter’s friend. Sirius didn’t feel like he and Remus connected. Because, first and foremost, Remus was too serious.

So serious, as if being a werewolf was the end of his life and if anyone found out he’d die, as if it were a secret he’d take to his grave, an oath he’d clutch to his chest. Remus spent his whole life studying, because he took grades as a stamp of approval that sealed the envelope of his fate, whether he’d get a job or end up homeless on the streets, maybe dead. To Remus, his only two options were being serious, or being dead. No in between. Sirius didn’t like that. Remus wouldn’t die. There were sides to him that were alive, animated, enthusiastic. Thrill-seeking. Sirius had seen them, flickers in the shadows beneath Remus’s eyes, shuttered out behind meaningless smiles, dancing across Remus’s face before his gaze became devoid of anything but forced calmness, mechanical motion. Remus went through life like a chore.

If that was what life was to Remus, maybe he was better off dead.

Sirius shouldn’t say things like that aloud. But he could think them. If someone wasn’t living, why would they bother existing? Remus made no impact, he was too cautious. Sirius needed him to do something. Act like his breathing was a blessing. Know his breathing was a blessing. It was. Remus had the power to be alive, and he was letting it die. With every one of his forced smiles, every time he gave something less than his all because he was scared of being too wild. Remus was already dying.

- - -

Okay, so maybe Sirius had lied. Sometimes, he did take things too seriously. For example, when his parents sent a letter along the lines of:

“You’re a disgrace and a failure and we’d be better off if you were dead. But as you are still legally considered our son here are some chocolate frogs. We love you. Unwillingly. It’s an obligation. Try not to get disowned. You could be useful. Try to prove yourself. Maintain the image that the Blacks are a loving family. Because we are, Sirius. We are.”

Letters such as above had Sirius slumping in his bed, not bothered to commit the laborious tasks of basic hygiene. They sliced the grin off his face with a smooth blade, replaced it with a sewn-smile that felt brittle and breakable, fraying at the seams. Sirius felt serious, as if every moment of his life mattered but he had made it count for nothing, misused and abused his time until it was frowning in the lines of his face, all his mistakes indented into his skin.

The thing was, they tried to love him. They did not really love him. They were therefore also failures.

In the bed across from him, Remus was curled into a book, also avoiding the trivial antics of James and Peter. Right now, Sirius and Remus were just too serious for child’s play like that. Sirius felt old, weather worn and beaten, as if he’d been battered by harsh winds and sprayed with mud, flung into bed by a tornado, sinking into his mattress like quicksand.

Remus glanced up from his book, meeting Sirius’s eye. He smiled slightly, not enough. Restraining himself. Sirius wanted to see all those crooked teeth. Stretched across Remus’s face in an inane grin. Sirius would like that.

Clearing his throat slightly, Remus reached into his bedside drawer, pulled out his own chocolate frog. From his own stash. Remus wasn’t rich. He chucked it at Sirius, tongue curling around the words, “Sweeten up.”

Sirius caught it, cradled in his hands. For some reason, it felt precious. He didn’t want to admit that. He didn’t want to thank Remus.

He felt called out, the audacity of Remus telling Sirius to sweeten up. Sirius was already sweet. He turned away from Remus, chocolate frog still held like a sacred offering.

When Sirius ate it, because eventually he scraped a little across his tooth, frog clutched between his fingers, the chocolate tasted sweeter than the ones his parents gave him. He was pretty sure they cast spells over any type of luxurious treat in order to reduce the fat and sugar levels, to make sure Sirius remained healthy; sweets can’t be too sweet.

Sirius fell asleep, and the sweetness clung to his tongue. When he woke up again, his mouth felt parched, and he actually got out of bed in order to drink water and brush his teeth. This was why sweets were good. Sirius glanced at Remus quickly. That was the way he said thank you. Subtle glances, the question why?

Why would Remus? Remus in all his seriousness. Remus, who was poor, presumably disliked Sirius for being his antithesis, who wasn’t obligated to help Sirius, to be kind to him. So why would he chuck Sirius a chocolate frog and notice him? Sirius was making a big deal out of nothing. It was just a chocolate frog. Sirius had never said thank you. His parents gave him chocolate frogs. Remus made them better. Why did Remus make them better? Remus in all his seriousness. Remus with his chocolate stash, the one for cheering people up, because he was serious about caring for people. Like a Healer at St. Mungos. Remus would be great with patients. He’d take everything they say to heart, look at them like they mattered, act like what he was doing was simply basic decency, as if it wasn’t worth something more than plain normalcy. Remus would be great with people. If he let himself.

If Remus were to sweeten up, lighten up, buoyancy in the heaviness on his shoulders, then he’d be a world-changer. Sirius just needed to peel him open, like the wrapper of a chocolate frog. Release him from his werewolf packaging, the one which he’d manufactured around himself, complete with the DO NOT TOUCH label, DANGEROUS SUBSTANCE. Remus wasn’t dangerous. Remus took himself too seriously. Really, the label he needed was REMUS LUPIN, who he was. Who he was, which was something Sirius wanted to open up, because Remus’s label was lying, false advertising. Remus was more than a werewolf, and it took a little chocolate frog for Sirius to know that.

What would it take for Remus to know that?

Sirius spat out his toothpaste, wiped his mouth, and when he left the bathroom, he steered towards Remus’s bed instead.

“Lumos,” Sirius cast. “Lighten up, Remus.”

The light shone over Remus’s pages, darkened in the evening light. “Straining is bad for your eyes,” Sirius hummed.

Remus looked at him, eyes glowing, shining, fiery amber crystals hidden in the depths of a dark cave, which Sirius would open up, push the rocks apart, find Remus buried within the fissure, fish him out, hook and line, and carry him, until Remus was shining in the daylight, rivalling the sun.

“Thank you,” Remus replied carefully, looking at Sirius curiously.

Sirius didn’t like it. “C’mon,” he grabbed Remus’s hand. “Let’s find James and Peter.”

“I—”

Sirius squeezed the hand he was holding, as gently as he could, with all the sweetness he could muster, the way a heart would squeeze in the chest when it was overflowing with emotion until it hurt. That was the way Sirius squeezed Remus’s hand. “Sweeten up,” he repeated, pulling Remus out of the dorm.

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Hii, I have a lil request for slasher & child!reader. It’s a little bit personal, sorry haha.

Do you think you could write something with a child reader who has anemia? It’s sometimes literally just called “lack of blood,” so you can get an idea of how crappy it is to have.

It makes it really hard to breathe and makes my heart beat abnormally faster compared to people who don’t have it, and lots of chest pain. It also causes extreme cases of fatigue and headaches, and I have fainted because of it before.

I feel like having anemia would be a big struggle for slashers, (what with having to constantly run, lift thing, being real active) so they’d def feel upset that their kid has it.

There’s a lot more stuff, but you get the idea. Sorry if this one’s a bit more personal

No, no. It's perfectly fine. I hope you're doing well, I'm sorry if I made the condition sound worse than it is. Apologies for my ignorance.

And take care of yourself, anon. 🏹❤‍🔥

Cw:

Relation: platonic.

Slashers in this: Michael, Jason, thomas, bubba (sorry I couldn't write for billy & stu and sinclair twins)

Slashers x anemic! child! reader

Michael

It didn't bother him that much, but it did worry him. He didn't particularly have to worry about running... Well you running because he'd prefer you stay at your parents' house when he does murder but if you don't have any.... Well, he would rather carry you to safety if you're having trouble anyways. He'll survive. With Michael, there's always a home but never a home to stay at though.

he doesn't like standing and observing you whenever he notices you're having trouble breathing and when you clutch your chest in pain. He doesn't know what to do and he wishes he does.

Do you need.. What were those things again? Inhalers? He witnessed a few people use it when their breathing was erratic and rough so he wonders if you need it too. But for now he'll rub your back and hope it helps to support you emotionally that you're not alone and he's here. Whatever you need him to get, tell him and he'll try his best. Supplements? Give him an hour. I think he knows a pharmacy somewhere that he can break into. And don't even try to refuse them, he won't have it.

Since you're a child he worries this might be too hard for you – and he hopes it won't be the end of the world for your life anytime soon.

You're tired? That's fine, sleep on the couch or floor. Anywhere, he doesn't care. Just not on him. (You can convince him if you try hard enough.) He doesn't care if you nap 3 times a day, sleeping is good for you and helps you grow. Or so he heard. He doesn't even sleep that much anyways – your deadly father figure Michael approves. What he doesn't approve of are the headaches you get, the more painful they seem the more frustrated he gets. God dammit, why is your life so difficult? Where are the painkillers again?

Okay so the real panic sets in the first time you passed out in front of him. Fuck, did you die?

He's shaking your body slightly and pressing his ear up your chest, letting out a silent sigh when he hears your faint heartbeat. He gently lifts your body and places it on the couch – he sits beside you, watching you over like a hawk. Michael can't believe it. Never in his life had he thought he'd look after and stress for someone this hard - especially not a child. You must be absolutely insane if you think he's the type to care for one and yet here he is, listening carefully for your breath to hitch and your eyelids to be open.

He sighs, why can't he just murder peacefully? He's questioning everything. But he'll get used to it eventually. Sometimes he acts like you're a burden on his shoulders and a source of meaningless grey hairs but that's not exactly how he feels. It's.. Different.

But never hesitate to trouble him, not even when he comes back after 2 all nighters.

Jason

He is always so scared that one day your body might give up and die. The thing he stresses really hard about is that he can't give you the supplements and things you need. He's in the middle of buttfuck nowhere in the woods but he does know where the end of the woods are and he's kind of willing to step into civilization if it gets really bad, he really doesn't want to see his kid in pain and do nothing about it. He's not going to Manhattan again though. Always extra painstaking when he takes care of you and makes sure you don't need to use your body as much.

Anytime someone enters the camp he's immediately shoving you somewhere safe and deals with whoever trespassed himself. Although he's in immense discomfort when you have your headaches and difficulty in breathing. He's begging for his mom for help in his mind what he can do to ease whatever pain you're growing through.

Although Jason doesn't need to eat, he knows you do. So he searches for fish in nearby lakes (if there are even any) and he gets nuts, whatever is rich in iron. He'll get em for you.

Secretly hopes that people do trespass into camp crystal Lake. Those who happen to carry iron vitamins and supplements that is. He feels extremely relieved after going through the bags of one of the victims he's beheaded and finding a bottle, happily handing it to you and if you don't want to consume it he's very gently shoving it down your throat. Nope, you're going to eat this and that's final. Mama pam says so.

Sighs and lays you down when your chest starts hurting and stays by your side. Why do you have to go through so much? He thinks as he rubs your hair and waits for it to go away so you both can carry on whatever you were doing. Because of this, he doesn't allow you to lift the wood that he's chopped. If you insist it's either he stays stubborn or he allows you to carry the thin ones one at a time. You don't have to help him, and while he appreciates the thought. He would rather you stay inside and be safe.

Unfortunately for him, he doesn't catch on that this act of overprotectiveness and treating you as if you were made of bubble might upset you. Tilting his head to the side slightly as he watches you sulk in the corner in both frustration and feeling of being heavily underestimated. He really doesn't mean any harm. A little confused but Jason's got the spirit.

Panicks really hard every time you faint, his mind always wanders to the worst possible case scenario and assumes you have died. Incredibly frustrated since he's technically dead and a lot of his senses don't work properly. He's losing his touch and things are getting a bit hard to hear. Ear pressed hard against your chest, hoping his eardrums will be met with the thrum of your heartbeat and his fingers checking for your pulse, waiting to feel the throb upon his skin.

Got used to you getting fatigued and actually encourages you to sleep. It's better than following him outside of the cabins and into the woods where you risk getting bear trapped. Strict, very strict.

Thomas

Thomas is already very grateful for his family but he's even more grateful for them right now cause he would have no idea what to do without them. It depends, whether you're blood related or illegally adopted he will get used to it eventually. This ain't the craziest the family has dealt with.

He brushes you off whenever you try to help him carry things, what if you get dizzy and get headaches again? No! He won't have it. He carries you in his arms and sits you down somewhere. You can sit on top of his shoulders if you'd like.

Gets especially anxious when there are people comin in. He knows you won't particularly be targeted nor would the family allow you to exert yourself, but if something goes wrong? You have to run, and then your breathing will get roughed and- he doesn't want to think about it. But it does stay on his mind a lot. He makes sure to reassure you however he can when Hoyt makes you feel like you're a hindrance to the family, he doesn't know what he's talking about, is what Thomas tries his best to tell you. 'He's just scared.' He thinks and pats your head.

Heard from mama mae that meat, dark green vegetables and nuts will help raise your iron. (Assuming that he has been somewhat educated on your condition.) And then from now he will pester you to consume those. You don't wanna eat the meat? Why not? But fine, eat your veggies and nuts then.

Iron supplements? What are those?

Your chances of getting them are pretty low, I'm not sure if there's a pharmacy or clinic nearby but fingers crossed Hoyt might get in that damn truck and drive to get them for you if he feels nice enough. Tommy's not allowed out into the public.

Frowns a little when he cuddles you in his lap for you to fall asleep and feels your hands are cold. Why are they so cold?, hell why are you so cold? It's not even winter yet. Oh but when winter does come he's smothering your body with lots of layers. Will add more layers if you fall sick. And no, that's not up for debate.

When you faint he'll first stare at your unconscious body in shock before picking you up and putting you down on the couch, he puts his hand in front of your nostrils and feels air hitting his fingers. With a relieved sigh he patiently waits for you to wake up. Not too alarmed.

It's a different story when you're in pain, his heart breaks a little when your chest hurts and your head aches. You want water? Give him a break, he's trying his best.

Bubba

Out of this list, he's the one to handle this the worst when one of your more serious side effects takes place. And it really doesn't help that his family kinda don't know what to do either. They can try to help but it probably won't work that much.

It's lowkey over for you.

It also depends. All he knows is that something is wrong with you; you get dizzy, your breathing gets all incorrect, your chest hurts and you (guessing because of the rougher environment) faint a few times too much to what he'd prefer. Absolutely clueless.

Although you do have more of a leverage if you have at least somewhat knowledge about your condition. (Reading books or you were adopted and knew it beforehand way back prior to when bubba killed your parents.) This way Bubba can learn and know what to expect, he's very much happy to learn about you and take care of you to the best of his abilities.

Quite sad actually that you can't properly take part in revving the chainsaw and chainsawing people. Though the times that you can are when the victim is tied down and helpless. It's up to you whether or not you want to partake in it, though you don't have much of a choice. The family's set on tradition and won't understand why if you don't want to; 'you WILL be killing people with this chainsaw! I'm sick of this phase of yours!' 'It's not a phase.'

Seeing you faint will almost send Bubba to tears, hell, maybe it did already. He's just shaking your body while whining and babbling incoherently. After the whole incident he'll rarely ever let you out of his sight, great, now he's dragging you everywhere.

There will be a lot of problems being in the Sawyer family. But at least you're still alive... Right?

[sh1-n0bu]

Omg hello fellow lumine main!

I don't know if you watched the recent Xiao teaser but i got inspired by it so if it's okay with you can you write an angsty scenario about this:

After fighting with the "evil" Xiao, Xiao feels extremely tired and after walking for a while he bumps into you in a deserted field he then confuses/ hallucinates as if you are his evil self so he starts choking you(?) tries to attack you(?) And no matter what you say your words doesn't reach his ears and he snaps out of it only when Zhongli calls his name when he happened to be passing by

Hope this is not too specific! Feel free to change any part that you don't like and it could end with whatever genre you want whether it's angst or angst with fluff!! Thank you and please ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<33

✿ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙖 ✿

characters: xiao x nb!reader

warnings: angst, slight spoilers to xiao’s backstory, hurt/no comfort, fighting, descriptions of blood and canon violence, confession, big ouchies, major character death

notes: just wanna add that the reader doesn’t have a vision! since you didn’t specify the reader’s gender, i went with the “you” pronouns thing. also hiii❗️fellow lumine main❗️(ps: i wanted it to be different but my mitski’s playlist hurt me)

karmic debt is something that all yakshas bear in their lifetime until their timely demise. it is a collection of their evil deeds, of slaying demons, of taking the life of a corrupted being. of tainting one’s hand with blood whether that blood was already tainted or not.

out of five yakshas that guarded liyue and kept the land of any evil, three had died. minds corrupted by their own karmic debts, hearts shattered by the ones they once used to call a family, bodies torn apart, leaving behind only ashes with nothing to bury and reminisce about in the future. while one had disappeared without a trace.

out of five, only one remains.

and that one would sooner or later fall into his own karmic debt as well. it was only a matter of time. however, there was a small glimmer of hope in the yaksha’s tainted heart. a small glimmer in the shape of you.

sweet, loving you in all your glory who first met the legend of a being when he protected you from a mitachurl. kind, gentle you who thanked him later at the wangshu inn with a plate of hand-made almond tofu with a small offering at the side. thoughtful you who kept appearing every once in a while at the balcony, talking out loud to him about your day, your latest travels and business trades, knowing full well he was listening.

passionate you who gleefully accepted him with open arms when he first decided to sit beside you to hear about your day. understanding you who kept your distance when he warned you of his karmic debt, respectful of his wishes.

and the idiotic clumsy you who would sometimes trip over on the way up the stairs. who would smile at him with the same smile, calling out his name with a scratched hand or forehead. who would brush it off as something small and mediocre.

but the yaksha hated that you would always say your injuries are mediocre and “nothing to worry about”.

of course he would worry. you were one of the few people in his life that he held dear in his heart. one of the few who accepted him, karmic debt, dirty hands, tainted heart and all. the only one… he ended up falling in love with.

“if one day, this karmic debt that binds my soul becomes too much and i no longer can tell the difference between friend or a foe, call upon mister zhongli or the traveler. they’ll get rid of me before i can harm anyone” was something that the lonely yaksha would remind you often.

“it’s fine. that won’t ever happen” you would console him, hands weaving a flower crown together from the qingxin flowers he picked up for you.

“because i’ll be there to knock some sense into you” was your sweet promise as you would place the flower crown atop his head with a smile.

he always found it meaningless that you would weave the flowers into something as useless as a flower crown. but he couldn’t bring himself to ever take it off or throw it away, even after the flowers have dried up and he would pick up the fallen petals, storing them in a glass. he loved how even in death, without nourishments, the petals would continue to keep their beauty.

perhaps that’s why he always brought you flower bouquets back. ones made from random flowers. sweet flowers, glaze lilies, qingxin, silk flowers — he always brings back a flower for you whenever you visit. and on certain days when he feels an odd emotion gripping his heart, unable to tear his gaze away from you as you look at the setting sun, his gloved hand would slowly reach out, tucking one of the flowers behind your ear.

“pretty…” the lonely immortal would whisper without notice. only when you glance at him with a smile, would the yaksha realize what he had done, turn beet red and teleport away. too shy to confront his feelings, too conflicted to stay beside you, too afraid of your mortality.

there are so many times when xiao fears for your mortality.

the times when he feels his karma gripping his heart. hand clutching his jade spear tight to the point he fears he would break the weapon. blurry figures in his sight, muffled voices in his ears, an annoying high pitched ringing in his head.

it was just supposed to be another night. another night of keeping liyue safe. another night of banishing demons and abyss mages, mitachurls, what nots.

and yet it drained him so greatly. when was the last time he had ever felt this exhausted? down right almost collapsing right then and there in the fields of liyue? muscles straining, dragging his feet, vision blurry — the yaksha was exhausted.

amidst the chaos of the voices screeching in his head, demanding more blood, more death and sacrifices, xiao finds himself staring back at a familiar mask. his own mask. himself. or what kind of a twisted joke of himself it was.

their speed was evenly matched. spear swings and thrusts sharp, aimed at his weakest parts, the same feeling of adrenaline pumping as he fights against his own self. with some sort of blind luck or fate, the yaksha manages to make his other self kneel. a single plummet of his jade spear to the heart was all it took for the illusion to disappear.

this was a tiring night. xiao just wanted to go back to wangshu inn and collapse in your arms. you always had a soothing presence that quelled the karma in him.

“xiao?” a voice sounds from behind him. turning back to look at the person who spoke the immortal’s name, he finds himself growing enraged. another look alike of himself.

this was getting tiring.

and yet when the yaksha slipped on his mask and attacked, something was weird. this illusion was slower, weaker, never attacking back and he would almost daresay, felt wrong to fight against.

it didn’t took long for the seasoned fighter to leave a nasty cut on the illusion’s side, almost plunging his spear through their ribcage. he’d just have to try a bit harder then.

xiao wanted nothing more than to go back to you. to feel your arms around him. to feel your hands run through his hair, rambling on about your day or just simply choosing to stay quiet. either way, the lonely immortal loved it. he wanted to go back to you. to your loving embrace. sweet smiles. little nods when he whispered about somethings he wanted.

xiao just wanted to be with you.

just your presence alone was enough for him. he would savor the warmth your skin excludes as he sits beside you on the balcony. cherish every little moment you would spend with him. treasure the small gifts and the almond tofu you would make for him.

and yet why was it that such a familiar hand was touching his own gloved one when he finally drove his jade spear through the illusion’s chest.

it was only then the illuminated bird noticed.

there was no second ‘illusion’. there was no need to fight against the voice that called out to him. for it was you. for it was the one person he cherished the most. for it was his beloved that was now bleeding out, blood tainting the tips of his spear, warm hand covering his own gloved one. warmth that was so quickly fading away.

his beloved… that he killed.

taking his spear out, xiao moved quickly to catch your falling body. the warmth that your hug gives him, the comfort he feels now being replaced by the warmth of your blood.

“no. no no no no, h-hang on. i’ll get you to liyue harbor” what was he saying? it was no use. he had already pierced your heart straight through, there was no hope for you. but xiao wanted there to be one. xiao wanted you to stay alive so he can confess to you. xiao wanted you to live, wanted to taste your hand made almond tofu again, wanted to put flowers in your hair.

xiao wanted to spend his tomorrows with you.

“don’t. we both know i won’t make it” your voice calls out. weak, hoarse, tired. you were bleeding. eyes dull, losing life, losing it’s shine. you were dying and it was all his fault.

“please… please don’t go” the yaksha didn’t knew he was crying until his tears landed on your face. even when bleeding out, even when dying, you still smiled. and by the archons, you were still beautiful even as you lay dying in his arms.

“please don’t go. i love you too much to let you go…” the yaksha sniffled, sobs coming out as he holds you in his arms.

it was just like how you two would lay on the rooftops of wangshu inn. watching the stars, the cloud move by, pointing out the shapes as you two enjoy each other’s presence.

except the warmth that came from your body was now the warmth of your blood gushing out, staining his clothes. the smile you used to give him now dead, stoic, almost like a puppet’s forced smile. the bright shine of life that was once in your perfect [color], dull like a matted blood.

“i wanted to spend my tomorrows with you…”

[gothteddiesdotcom]

and if you’re sitting there reading that and asking yourself “what can I do to make doms more comfortable and safe?” all I am asking, begging really, is for you to be fucking normal and stop letting your biases guide everything you do and fucking say. You can reblog all the support and awareness and education posts you want but if you are not modifying your behavior and correcting your own assumptions constantly then all your talk is meaningless. Stop assigning morality to specific demographics (yes, even that one). Stop making assumptions that every dom is horny and wants to play with you. Stop making assumptions that a dom flirting with you wants to play with you. Stop using titles for doms without asking them how they feel about it first. Stop assuming doms are always in the mood and using them as a quick stop to get off with. Act normal about being fucking rejected. You want people to feel safe telling you no? Then you have to be a grown up about being told no. And that means not crying about it, not throwing a fit about it, not gossiping about it, not vague posting to tumblr about it, not ending friendships over it, not trying to convince someone to change their mind over it? Like do you guys even hear yourselves sometimes? It’s scary how normalized it is to have almost no empathy for other groups if it’s a group like doms. Look at your internal biases. And I mean LOOK at them. When you post about doms who do you mean? When you make general assumptions about doms who are you thinking of? Is it truly a dom you’re thinking of or is it another group of people that you’re picturing that you associate with being doms? We notice. Ask yourself, are you just reinterpreting traditional gender roles to fit dom/sub social dynamics OUTSIDE of play and are too scared to examine that and why it’s happening??? I’m not saying you’re a bad person for wanting to be a stay at home free use fuck toy for your monog partner, I’m asking if you’re reinterpreting the hidden rules of social interactions for different genders and just saying that it’s a dom/sub thing. Communication and responsibility are fucking important in kink. And if you’re doing all this because you don’t want any responsibility for your actions at ALL and are instead attempting to place responsibility on doms for every single action in your relationship, SPECIFICALLY relating to your own agency in the relationship, YOU are a problem. I don’t care if you want to be a puppy doggy and want zero responsibilities in life and want your partner to control you. What I’m saying is YOU have to be responsible enough to say I WANT THIS and I DON’T WANT THIS and LET’S TRY THIS and I DIDN’T LIKE THIS. And even that’s not enough. Also try DO YOU WANT THIS and DID YOU ENJOY THIS and WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY THIS and IS THIS OKAY. Are you a safe person to interact with??? When you sexually engage a dom are you thinking about them??? Are you mindful of their comfort and their enjoyment??? Or do you just see them as an animate toy where their perverted nature is inherently innate and happens to be getting you off right now but will be the exact reason you cancel them three months from now when they say the wrong thing and you take it to the internet before you even try opening a line of communication and working together to figure out what happened and what they meant. If you want doms to be safe and feel safe you have to actually view them as people. And I don’t think a lot of people do that.

[causenessus]

present

part 0.3. HOY NO ESTARÉ

“que está pasando (what's going on) / ya no encuentro a los demás (i can't find the others anymore) te hice daño, me hiciste daño (i hurt you, you hurt me) hay un túnel largo (there is a long tunnel) y no se a donde voy (and I don't know where I'm going) / ya no tuve tiempo para decir adiós (i no longer had time to say goodbye)”

life should be about those domestic moments.

those small moments that aren’t really that small.

if you just focused on the present–what was right in front of you–nothing could be considered small. not the breaths you took continuously, one after the other, or a crosswalk sign that gives you the "go ahead" light to walk safely across a street and continue on with your day.

unfortunately, she didn’t have the luxury of enjoying those unappreciated moments.

for her, she lived to ruin others.

her job wasn’t the problem. it was the fact that she couldn't say that she was better off than those who crossed her. she ended her days coming home to a lonesome, tarnished life of her own. 

perhaps she was selfish to think she deserved better; this was the price for living in the darkness. it was a part of her that had been there since she was a child, the ever-winding shadows curling along her skin proof of their persistence.

a haunting reminder that even if she did ever find light in her life, her shadow was always behind her. 

but that night between her and chuuya after dazai had left proved different. that had been a small moment. the blank space at the end of a page of a book, once a chapter has ended but there was still room left for things to be said before the next part began. since then, showing up at each other’s doors late at night had become a common occurrence.

they talked about small things and big things. of things that they may have hesitated to say, but said anyway. and there was never any judgement, only small brushes of the hands, and looks that said more than words. 

it confused her. she couldn’t understand why she kept telling him things about her, whether they be of the past or just something in the moment that was bothering her. it was as if his gaze simply drew the words from her mouth the moment it landed on her and he was waiting for her to speak. she often ignored the meaningless negative emotions and annoyances she felt throughout the day in the event that it caused her to develop a sense of self-pity. yet, the way he listened to her made her feel as if they weren’t measly problems—as if maybe it was okay to sometimes admit something was bothering her.

but it was uncomfortable to be placed in such a foreign situation where she was not only sharing her thoughts but also being validated for them. despite how much she disliked the idea of trying out something new, though, she couldn't bear to pull away from the boy who never failed to show up at her doorstep the next night no matter what they had discussed on the previous one. it was an intangible feeling that underlay what she understood to be a feeling of safety she associated with him, allowing her to trust him with her emotions. there was so much she couldn't understand about what she felt she almost wanted to tear her heart out and be done with all these complex paradoxes called emotions—

“whaddya thinking about?” olive green eyes came into view, a boy’s face inches away from her own.

she swatted his face away, the ruminating mood she'd drifted into ruined, “don’t worry about it.”

he huffed, falling back into step next to her before she heard the faint sound of his teeth chattering. he crossed his arms around his body while turning his head to look at their surroundings, unable to stay focused on the task in front of them for longer than a second. “it’s cold, are we almost there?”

“it’s just up ahead. you’ll be fine as long as you don’t make snarky comments in front of the man we’re meeting, earnest,” she sighed, seeing her own breath appear in the cold air as she exhaled. working with earnest was like having a child of her own, which she didn’t say happily. she couldn’t tell if mori actually wanted her to train him or if he just needed a babysitter for the boy.

earnest was sweet, but as a new member who had come all the way from america, it was to be expected. he was reckless and naive, not quite yet understanding how the city of yokohama worked nor was he patient enough to wait to figure it out. he had worked for a criminal organization before, but his affiliation with them had ended with him in prison and then on the other side of the world. so maybe she couldn't be entirely angry at his immaturity; he simply didn't know any better, and perhaps that's why mori had placed him in her care. but that didn't mean she'd take pity on him just because he'd had a rough start—they all had.

they entered the building, shutting the door silently behind them. “they’re on the third floor,” he whispered from behind her.

“just as planned,” she responded, scanning their surroundings before taking another step forward. “nothing else?”

“nothing out of the ordinary so far,” he shook his head, eyes still closed with his palm pressed to the wall of the building. like her's along with many others, his ability had practically been made for criminal activities.

she lifted the silver briefcase in her hand higher, starting to climb up the flights of stairs that would bring them to the meeting spot. she hadn’t bothered to check what was inside (she sincerely hoped she wasn't wrong to trust that earnest had done the bare minimum of double checking the contents of the briefcase before showing up at her door like a puppy who'd just been told he was going for a walk— in which the only real difference in this situation was that he'd heard the word "job" instead of "walk" and it still elicited a reaction all the same) but whatever various objects were inside clinked quietly as they fell to one side of the case.

“this is so stupid,” she heard behind her, “exchanges are so–”

she hushed him, her free hand not holding the briefcase reaching back to where he was following close behind to swat at his face again. sometimes trade jobs were boring, yes, but sometimes they could get heated. his complaints could wait until after they had finished the transfer.

arriving at the third floor, only illuminated by the moonlight spilling through the windows on the side of the building, she waited for earnest to finish making it up the stairs before she turned the corner.

a table waited at the center of this hallway too, the blue shine of the moon outside framing it in a sort of spotlight. she placed the briefcase on the table with the handle and locks facing away from her, stepping back just as a stern-faced man stepped out from behind a wall near the table. his light brown hair reached just past his ears and was slicked back, framing an ordinary face. he was nothing special or crazy intimidating, he was most likely just a simple runner for his organization. what caught her off guard in the next moment was the accent he spoke with, saying something she didn't entirely catch. it was heavy and could barely be considered japanese, leaving her to wonder who'd let this poor man show up to an exchange with the port mafia all by himself when he could barely speak their language. but she couldn't say much with an american of her own standing a few feet away, so instead they nodded to each other and she waited half a beat before turning around. 

earnest continued to stand still, eyes on the man who had taken to opening the briefcase to examine what was inside. she brushed past him, giving him a look that told him to follow before walking back the way they came. 

he trailed behind her a few seconds later and they made their way down the first flight of stairs, not before he gave one last glance down the hallway they’d just came from. she looked back at him with a face of concern. “what’s the matter? you’re suddenly quiet and acting all paranoid. did you see a ghost?” it was a lighthearted tease, but she nonetheless paused at the beginning of the next flight of stairs to hear what he had to say.

“i… just thought i knew him,” earnest answered, no longer sounding bored or whiny.

she quirked a brow, “oh? from where?” she asked, turning back to face the last flight of stairs.

“hold on,” he grabbed her arm, placing his other hand on the wall and closing his eyes as he’d done when they’d first entered the building. “there’s someone waiting down there.” his eyes shot open, “we need to find another way out.”

for whom the bell tolls was an ability that allowed earnest to see the layout of any building he was in and single out the best places for ambushes within them. it was a double-edged sword, used both to his advantage and plotting where to sneak up on someone, and also to predict and detect if perhaps anyone was instead waiting to attack him from those same spots.

in the short time she had worked with earnest, it had proven quite useful. he’d been right every time he’d warned her or described a building, sometimes even predicting things that were more specific than she thought could be produced by his ability.  yet, she couldn’t help but question what he’d said, worried that perhaps his shakeup from the exchange minutes ago was influencing his decisions, “it’s just one person, why?”

he’d tugged her arm down a hallway to their left as if he knew this place like the back of his hand, yet they both knew it was his first time in here. but it was her’s, too, and all she could do was trust his guidance. “they’re planning to destroy the whole building– and everyone in it,” he answered, eyes wide and breathing uneven. his grip on her sleeve remaining tight, “there’s an open window this way, the fall won’t be detrimental, and i saw a manhole on the side of the building. we’ll take it–”

the hair stood up on the back of her neck as she felt a presence behind her. quickly pulling the pistol from a holster on the side of her hip, firing three shots in the direction of the feeling. 

earnest flinched at the sound, brows knit with raised anxiety and panic but her eyes were focused on the figure that stumbled out of the doorway where they’d been just been moments ago. while normally she would have stayed to take care of the assailant, she’d never seen earnest so scared and she could feel the unease, too. something wasn't normal about the situation. she should have noticed from the moment she'd saw the man who she'd left the briefcase with; his lack of speech and fluency gave it away; they had been fooled. whatever was in that briefcase hadn't mattered in the slightest. their true objective seemed to be taking the lives of her and the boy beside her.

she spun back around, this time being the one to grab onto earnest and pull him along as they started to run. the window he'd mentioned before was just ahead, the countless closed doors they passed becoming a blur as they sprinted down the hallway, trying to reach their exit. 

this was a building owned by the mafia– it’s why it had been chosen as the exchange point. how had nothing seemed to have been out of the ordinary if these people were somehow planning to destroy it? how had earnest not noticed anything from the start? the only reasonable explanation she could come up with was that it had to be an ability, and they needed to escape this building before even thinking of fighting back.

“[y/n]–”

“hold on,” she cut him off, hearing a shot from behind her, and the whirl of something pass by her ear, so close it grazed her cheek. she fired several more shots back in retaliation through gritted teeth, “we’re almost there.”

she let go of earnest’s hand to run forward, giving her time to check that nothing was waiting outside the window before she slipped out of it, earnest following quickly behind. she watched the window while earnest shakily stood back up from the fall. a dark figure look out the window down towards them, but they didn’t follow.

a hand tugged at her’s, “i think we should leave. it’s not a good idea to try to fight them,” earnest looked her straight in the eyes. he didn’t seem completely terrified anymore and she trusted his intuition after the trap he'd just saved both of them from.

“let’s go, then.”

earnest had been right to suggest for them to leave. the day after, the news blared with pictures of the building that looked alarmingly like the one they’d been in last night. in fact, it was the one they’d been in not even eight hours ago, and now it had vanished without a trace. there was no debris or ash left over; the building hadn’t been blown up or left behind any evidence of destruction, it'd simply disappeared. all the was left behind was the concrete base the property had been built upon as if the building had never existed in the first place. 

earnest found her in the morning, his skin pale and eyes bloodshot. “it’s the guild,” he stammered, “they’re…they’re here.”

she’d only heard of the american organization briefly, from reports and news articles she’d happen to glimpse by and from the stories earnest had told. it was the same group he’d originally come from, after all. “i believe you,” she spoke calmly, looking him in the eyes. “but why would they come here? what do we have that they can’t get in their own country?” she began to guide him down the hall away from her office. she had a feeling he already knew, but mori would want to hear earnest’s explanation if by some chance their boss hadn’t already predicted every outcome.

“it’s because of me, [y/n]-san. i– they framed me. they want this… book. and i helped them– and then they got me arrested once they were done with me. i–”

“earnest, calm down.” his head shot up at the sound his name coming from her mouth, and something in her clicked when she saw the look on his face. she stopped walking, and he followed suit, “don’t do it. you wouldn’t be able to handle them all on your own.” unlike yesterday, his eyes weren’t wide with fear for his safety nor were they lively and upbeat as they were normally. they were instead filled with anger and vengeance.

“they threw me into jail,” he tried to argue, “they came here knowing i was here, too. they’re here to finish what they started with me [y/n]-san. i won’t let them.”

“you won’t survive,” she shook her head. “if you didn’t want to fight even just one of them yesterday, how do you plan to take them all on? come on, we’re going to see mori-san. you’re not the only one with grudges, earnest. the guild tried to kill us and destroyed one of our buildings. the mafia won't let them get away with something like that. wait for a minute, see what both sides plan to do next, and you can fight when you’re more in control of your emotions.”

the fire that had sparked in his eyes seemed to slowly go out as he looked towards the floor. “you’re right,” he took a step back from her.

she hadn’t thought she was speaking harshly too him; he’d endured much worse than her chastising his recklessness this time around, yet she must have struck a nerve if he’d switched up this quickly. “earnest, please.”

“no…you’re right. I just need to think about this,” he said, refusing to look back at her. he was starting to remind her of someone she’d know years ago who’d been too desperate as well. he'd been too impatient to reach for the stars to wait for the right timing, and she knew how that story had ended. she had ended it. subconsciously, her nails were digging into her palms as her hands clenched into fists. she held herself back from saying anything else, knowing it wouldn't help. what he needed now was time. she needed to be patient, and to keep an eye out for him, to make sure he didn’t slip through her fingers the way he had all that time ago.

“think about it,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, and her eyes shut tight as if just continuing to stand there pained her. and it did, a little bit. “and please…just tell me if you go, okay?”

when she opened her eyes again, he was already gone.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

i'm so sorry i actually lowk don't like when ocs suddenly appear in x reader works I DO NOT CLAIM EARNEST HEMMINGWAY AS AN OC MAKING HIM A CHARACTER WAS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE BUT NO CANON CHARACTER IN BSD FIT THE ROLE I NEED HIM TO PLAY

never really thought there'd come a day where i was arguing about disowning an earnest hemmingway oc but here i am

don't come at me for anything regarding earnest hemmingway I don't know anything

also i'm so sorry if any lyrical translations are incorrect </3 I am trying my hardest between reddit posts and lyric websites to find correct translations for songs in languages I'm not fluent in but if anyone who knows better than me a better translation do not be afraid to yell at me and let me know :3

thank you for reading!! happy new year <3

taglist: @kameyyy @miiyas @saoirseyun @phoenix-eclipses @writingandmusing @strawberryuri @viovya (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[spikeface]

hiiii hello if you would ever like to rant about teen wolf s6a please do <3 i'm like five episodes in on my rewatch and i'm constantly oscillating between peeking at my phone like a proper zoomer and repeatedly asking myself where is theo my friend enemy theo.... i know he's here where is he...

Omg okay I will but you have to understand that this is the distillation of years in this fandom, the once loose coal of my irritation compressed into a diamond of haterism. There are parts of this season I love, and I've made peace with some of the stuff I complain about here. 

But we're not here for peace. :)

Never Say "Pineal Gland" Again. The Ghost Riders are fun as a plot device. People being kidnapped and forgotten, a mystical train station, that's fun! Teen Wolf loves monstrous, seemingly unknowable villains, and does great with them in two ways, both of which 6A fails at:

The first option is to get inside their heads. The alpha of season 1, the kanima, the darach, the nogitsune, the Dread Doctors—all are introduced as deeply alien creatures whose inner lives and personal connections to the main cast are slowly revealed. 6A seems like it's going down that route, because the crew spends a lot of time trying to figure out and talk to the Ghost Riders, but there's no payoff: they just want to hunt forever and that's that. No personal history with anyone, no connections beyond a willingness to mind control Parrish and a bit of nervous shuffling around Lydia.

Which might still be fine, because the second option with characters like these is to make them window dressing for a charismatic villain, a la the oni with the nogitsune or the berserkers with Kate. This framework would be great for 6A if not for the fact that the villain in this case is Garrett "Brain-Eating Nazi Lion Wolf" Douglas. 

Douglas does not get enough hate. I get that he's so forgettable, what else is there to say besides "blech," but we can do better. Teen Wolf has such fun villains: they're dramatic and camp, while also intimate and personal. They have deep connections with the main crew and almost always have a sympathetic side to them. Even the nogitsune, the most alien of the main villains, has an almost plaintive moment where it reminds Noshiko that it's only doing what it was created to, what she summoned it for.

Nothing about Douglas is challenging or charismatic or sympathetic or aesthetically appealing or well acted. Davis had a bad habit of hiring wooden blonde hunks as far back as the mechanic of season 2, and now there's one as a main villain. Douglas's closest connection is to Theo—their scene in the shed is easily Douglas's most engaging, though that doesn't say much—but their connection is superficial. How would Douglas even know who Theo was if he spent those years floating unconscious in a vat? 

His final showdown is deeply unsatisfying. By the time Scott faces him, they've barely interacted so far. What does it mean for Scott to challenge him? What does he mean to Scott? How has Scott grown to be able to face him? Why does Douglas want this power anyway? Why would this Nazi be telling a Mexican-American that he'd be a fine Hitler youth? What the fuck is happening here? 

In the end, Peter rightly points out that a brain-eating Nazi is such a low bar to clear that taking a stand against him is almost meaningless. Douglas is a mockery of the complex, charismatic, intimate, high-stakes villains of previous seasons. Damnatio memoriae is too good for him; we need to remember how bad he sucks.

If Only We Knew Someone With Lightning Powers. Dropping Arden Cho unceremoniously was gross. Following that with a season of lightning villains is gross. Having Kira's only legacy be a sword that is then given away and broken, after everything she sacrificed for it, is just foul.

Would It Kill You To Let Them Go To Prom? Teen Wolf is only sporadically interested in high school life. Sometimes, it's part of the show's appealing silliness, but 6a's indifference just gets to me. This is the final semester of senior year for Scott and co., but we get absolutely nothing. Stiles misses that final semester and apparently, so do we! There's no classes, barely any lacrosse, and definitely no prom or graduation or college acceptance letters, nothing that acknowledges this season as a rite of passage. Any hints to the characters' future are condensed into a few lines at the end. C'mon, man.

It goes beyond the expectations of a teen show. Davis is so indifferent to his characters that in the next season, he makes all the characters who should be juniors into seniors, just to add on a flimsy narrative about things ending. It's lazy. 6A, to me, also really brings out how little Davis has invested in the world of Beacon Hills. Beyond Coach, there are so few consistent background characters. The high school class, lacrosse team, hospital, and sheriff's department are all prime opportunities for recurring background characters, but the show only bothers with a few (e.g. Brett&Lori, Sydney, Danny until they dropped him without even telling the actor). Nathan, Gwen, and Phoebe are all new characters, rather than people who have existed in the background before this, and after this season, they disappear again. There's very little sense of the world of either the high school or the town in general, and it stands out in a season where the whole town is being targeted.

The Newest Werewolf. Hayden was a minor character in season 5, but still had a lot going on: a close relationship with her sister strained by the supernatural; having to work a shitty job to afford the medications for her life-threatening condition; being targeted by the Doctors; being pursued by a boy she's not sure if she likes; trying to flirt when she's naturally competitive and sarcastic; DYING; being revived by Theo and then exploited by him; fighting the Demon Wolf's attempts to get in her head; deciding to help her friends; walking a fine line to survive the Beast when she's kidnapped by him; discovering Tracy's body. Her life is rich, and ends with a groundbreaking moment where she's the first person onscreen that becomes a werewolf with fully informed consent.

In 6A, she's flattened into Liam's love interest. Almost all of her scenes are with him, and her decisions are almost entirely about him. Many of her lines are about reassuring him. The exception is her dynamic with Gwen, which is much more engaging, and to me only shows how much more they could have done with Hayden if they just let her cook. Why is Liam the only one to get scenes alone with Theo? Surely she and Theo would have stuff to say to each other. Or what about her relationship with Scott? Why is Liam the only beta to have an arc with him? Where's her relationship with her sister??

The Wailing Woman. This should have been such a good season for Lydia. The groundwork is all there! Banshees have a special power over the Ghost Riders, and to placate them, the Ghost Riders create a facsimile of someone the banshee has lost.

Hmm, whom has Lydia lost recently? Whose presence might give her a vested interest in ignoring evidence of the Wild Hunt? 

Allison would have been perfect as the deceptive product of the Wild Hunt, and would have matched the framework the show established far better than Claudia. Part of the reason the Hunt falls apart is because Lydia is instantly suspicious of Claudia, and has no emotional investment in her. With Allison, Lydia would get to say goodbye to her in a way that matches the season being set in the final semester of high school. 

This would also have built on season 5 in fruitful ways. Lydia's power makes her a target in season 5, but she has almost no agency over her power. She's driven to blow Valack's head off without any control over it. 6A could be about Lydia realizing that this fake Allison has been created for her because the Wild Hunt is afraid of her power, but only if she chooses to use it.

And with respect to Allison, Lydia has more grieving to do. She's been struggling to process her death since it happened. She spends all of season 4 trying to find a way to help people as a response to Allison's death, but then is locked in a basement for the finale. In season 5, she has to be told by Stiles about Allison's role in defeating the Beast. Lydia deserves a season in which she can properly grieve Allison. She's literally the wailing woman! Let her wail!

As a final note, I'll add that I was frustrated with the way Stydia was done in this season. I dislike it strongly but waffled on including it because I've never been a big Stydia shipper, and so I worry that this criticism will seem motivated by my disinterest in the ship, rather than my frustration with its execution. My issue, though, is not Stydia itself but how little the show explored Lydia's subjectivity. 

Imho 6a substitutes Lydia remembering Stiles for her liking him, and prioritizes exploring his feelings over hers. It's clear from the first episode that Stiles is still in love with her, even if he's accepted they'll never be a romantic couple—which is one of my favorite things about Stiles, and a great part of O'Brien's portrayal. But when it comes to Lydia liking Stiles, the show focuses on how she's the one to remember him. But that's also, apparently, because she's a banshee? They focus on that at the expense of her personal feelings for him, and when the scene is most explicitly about their connection—in the memory landscape sequence of "Memory Found"—the focus is on Stiles' feelings for her. It just didn't seem like it was about Lydia in a meaningful way. The previous season, she'd been into Parrish, which is a pairing I despise and don't want to see more of, but the fact remains it was important to Lydia. The lack of exploration of how Lydia had ended it or moved on from it felt like more dismissal of her experiences. Stydia seemed like it was ultimately about making sure the audience knew Stiles is important, at the expense of a real exploration of their dynamic, which I discuss more below.

You Don't Have To Stop But Could You. So, okay, stay with me on this one. I loved that Theo returned, and thought they did some great things with him, BUT that's not why we're gathered here today. Despite enjoying a lot about Theo's dreamscape sequence, I was really frustrated by the way it framed Tara and what its impact was clearly intended to be.

I really loved the first scenes of Theo's return: he's dirty, angry, confused, and biting. He looks exhausted with his own bullshit, but instantly attacks Liam and Hayden and then threatens to kill everyone, and lies by omission about Douglas (and his own powers?), reflexively playing his cards close to the vest. He's looking out for himself and averse to personal risk. I thought they did a good job of presenting a Theo who has the potential to change, but hasn't yet. He's not really ready to see Scott and Malia again, and reverts to flippancy. 

We also get a scene in “Ghosted” of how deeply Theo hurt Malia. She hallucinates his betrayal in connection with her guilt about her own family; both of them are still deep wounds for her. It makes sense that she would lose control at the sight of Theo suddenly showing up in Scott's living room with a little "you aren't still upset about the whole shooting thing, are you?"

But then the episode ends!

And the next one starts with the Tara dreamscape.

Again, I don't want to sound like I disliked this sequence full stop. I've written meta about its relationship with Scott's dreamscape sequence and what it says about Theo, but I remain frustrated with how the basic impact is about generating sympathy for Theo. Tara is the victim the viewer knows least (vs Josh or Tracy or Scott), her death the most ambiguous (we only see Theo watching in what could be a daze, like the one pre-resurrection Tracy was in), and her only role in this sequence is to hurt Theo. She doesn't have any subjectivity beyond that: she's not Theo's sister, betrayed by her little brother's violence towards her, ready to explain her point of view. She's a gory ghost who barely reacts to Theo, a walking prop.

Theo, meanwhile, is there to be pitiable. When he was pulled under, he was powerful, and attacking everyone, and wearing shoes. Now he wanders barefoot through the hospital, and at the sight of Tara, he just runs. Beyond some frustration with the door, there's none of the vicious anger he showed in season 5. 

To be clear, it's not that I think Theo shouldn't be pitied or doesn't have this vulnerability, and Cody Christian does a stellar job with this scene, which is also beautifully atmospheric. But in terms of the impact of the scene on the viewer, it's there to create pity for Theo at the expense of grappling with any of the violence he did. It frustrates me because the sequence easily could have addressed his violence while still making him look sympathetic.

Theo was trapped in and perpetuated a cycle of violence. The viewers don't know the full truth about Tara, but we do with Scott, Josh, and Tracy. Theo killed them. What's more, we know all three tried to have a connection with him: Josh followed him post-resurrection despite the fact that Theo had been the one to kill him the first time; Scott wanted Theo in his pack, trusted him, and tried to be there for him; and Tracy was in love with him, trying to help him, without judgement, even when he was at his lowest. It would have been much more meaningful to have Theo face them instead of Tara, or at least in addition to her. 

It also would have been more meaningful to have Theo reckon with his capacity to do violence, rather than his fear of suffering it. We all know Theo is scared of being hurt; Theo knows most of all. He's even honest about it: "I don't want to be one of the bodies, it's that simple." What he has more trouble with is confronting how he perpetuates a cycle of violence, or even that he's in one. The dream sequence as it is does have Theo confront the idea of an endless, unchanging cycle, but it would have been much more effective to have that cycle be about the violence Theo did.

Think about how it would have looked if, once Tara dragged Theo down, Theo went on to reenact any of the violence he did, over and over and over. He could push Tara off the bridge over and over, but it'd be even more impactful to have him kill Josh over and over. He already killed him twice, but now he has to do it forever.

Scott stands there, barely on his feet, betrayed and weary, and says, "Now you have to kill me yourself." 

And Theo does, over and over. 

Tracy tells him, over and over, "You're hurt. You need time to heal." 

And Theo kills her for it, over and over. 

You'd get the same progression towards despair, but now it would be much more about Theo confronting what he did. It would still be a sympathetic depiction of a lost kid, shaped and trapped by brutal forces, while addressing his own choices, and why Malia might be so upset to see him.

As it stands, the sequence undermines Theo's history and Malia's reasonable reaction to him. We get her flashback/hallucination, Theo's inflammatory return, but then an episode break, followed by an extended sequence in which Theo is nothing but helpless and pitiable, finally followed by Malia's rage. Her reaction is divorced from the catalysts of the previous episode, and the scene of her anger even contains a callback to the dreamscape ("you don't have to stop"). I've made my peace with it, but it remains frustrating as a choice from Davis, who wrote this episode.

Malia Middle Name Tate.* Again, there's a lot I love about what they do with Malia in 6A, but now is not the time for love. So much of Malia's screentime is about Stiles and Peter at her expense. Those are both huge relationships for Malia, but they're not explored on her terms. 

The last we saw of her and Stiles, they'd broken up over a complicated situation. Stiles ends things at a self-destructive moment, as Malia tells him she would accept him even if he did kill Donovan. In some ways, I think Stiles is punishing her for this acceptance out of self-loathing, but it's also about the fact that Malia's acceptance is clearly tied to her own desire to kill the Desert Wolf. She accepts what might be Stiles' violence because she wants him to accept that she plans to kill Corinne, and Stiles isn't cool with that. The two never speak about it again, though, even though Malia subsequently doesn't kill Corinne. By season 6, the two obviously have baggage, as seen in their clash over the senior portrait. 

Once Stiles is gone, we see that he's still her anchor. I thought this was an interesting choice, because Scott and Allison's breakup was what forced Scott to be his own anchor. It would have been interesting to see that for Malia, or for her to decide that she still wants Stiles to be her anchor as a friend, or any sort of arc where she processes the breakup or her own feelings or makes decisions about Stiles for herself. Instead, the anchor concept seems to exist to remind the viewer how important Stiles is in general: he's Malia's anchor! Look how lost she is without him! Stiles simply must be rescued from the Wild Hunt! Malia isn't the one to break through the veil, however, and after he's back, there's still no sense of what this means for Malia. Her subjectivity re: Stiles is just ignored. After he comes back, she doesn’t even get a scene to greet him.

It's even worse with her "arc" with Peter. The last we see of those two is in the finale of season 4, when Peter betrays her. After going out of his way to get close to her, he literally tosses her aside and tries to kill her friends. Season 5 begins with Malia confirming that she's Malia Tate, not Malia Hale. She then forgets Peter until he returns from the Wild Hunt, when she goes to take his pain and is suddenly struck with the memory of his betrayal. That's the entirety of their relationship. 

Meanwhile, Peter is busy carving the biggest revenge spiral of his life in Eichen, suggesting he hasn't changed much from the end of season 4, before he's swept away by the Wild Hunt. I didn't dislike his scenes with Stiles at the train station, but to the extent that it's about his relationship with Malia, it cuts out Malia. Stiles' contempt for how alone Peter is as a result of his actions is good, as is his desperate plea for Peter to help his daughter, if no one else—but Malia sees none of this. She goes to Peter after his return only because he seems marginally less horrible than Theo, and still doesn't trust him. And why would she? Why would the viewer? We saw how big that revenge spiral was. 

Peter does go on to sacrifice himself for Malia, but these moments are always about Peter and what he wants, and they lead to one of the most abhorrent moments of the show. The fact that Malia is forced to call him "dad" despite obviously not wanting to is just gross. It's all about what Peter wants, and honestly, why would he even want this? It's meaningless because it's forced, and it's especially foul that Lydia is written to be the one telling Malia to do this, given Peter's history with her. I hate it!!

Meanwhile, where is Henry, the father she chose? Was he kidnapped by the Wild Hunt? Did she ever tell him she's a werecoyote, or about the Desert Wolf? 6A won't tell us. We see in "Ghosted" that her mother and sister's death still haunts her, but does the season do anything with that? No.

The last grump I'll add re: Malia's treatment is how little she gets with Theo. I've already talked about how I disliked how her anger at Theo is framed, and it was especially frustrating that it wasn't followed up with anything beyond an angry quip in the finale. Liam gets a series of scenes (good ones!) where he works through his anger at Theo, and it's incredibly frustrating that Malia, after having a much more intimate dynamic with him in season 5, gets so little. I despise the writers' choice to ignore them.

*This is a tiny thing but in the birth certificate prop for Malia in season 4, you can see that her name is written as Baby Malia. So. Technically. Malia is her middle name. Baby: a beautiful name for a baby.

Mieczysław. You knew this was coming. My frustration with how Stiles was handled this season is about the ways in which it's done at the expense of other characters, and even of Stiles himself.

The premise of 6a was to work around O'Brien's absence by making it a plot point. Stiles becomes the focus of the season, but theoretically, characters could have space to work through their relationships with him, and potentially plenty more for dynamics with other characters. 

But in practice, the writers clutter the season with repeated empty claims about Stiles' importance that stifle exploration of Stiles' relationships. Yes, he's Malia's anchor, but what does that mean now, after season 5, and how does it change over the course of the season? Yes, he's Scott's best friend, but again, what does that mean now? How does the season help them grow and develop? A lot of screentime is given to the sheriff, who gets long soliloquies about Stiles' importance, but there's no sense of development in their relationship or even any context. We don't, for instance, get any sense of what it means for the sheriff to have forgotten his own son, or how this revelation relates to things like refusing to believe him about the supernatural in 3a. On top of all of that, the sheriff's consistent presence and the primacy of his relationship with Stiles only emphasizes how marginalized every other parent-child relationship is in 6a: Scott&Melissa, Lydia&Natalie, Malia&Henry, Liam&Dr. Geyer, and Hayden&Valerie get almost nothing. I wonder if Noshiko has any thoughts on the importance of your child being remembered.

Some of the references to Stiles are poignant—the Jeep, for instance—but their impression overall is that the writers thought that Stiles could be replaced with cardboard cutouts. We get a parade of props, disconnected anecdotes and lore, the useless introduction of Elias (never seen before or after and gives them no new information<3), and of course, my worstie, Claudia.

Claudia's presence is a reference to Stiles, but not meaningfully about him; Stiles only finds her at the very end, and instantly rejects her. The biggest arc re: Claudia is the sheriff's, and while I'm not, like, against the idea of him grieving Claudia, it's done at the expense of Lydia's arc. To the extent that Lydia focuses on Claudia, the show seems to be trying to suggest that Stiles is important to her, but the message is undermined by the cheap cipher. Is she thinking about Stiles because he's important to her, or because there's a fake lady in his house right now? Is her relationship to him about her feelings for him, or her role as a banshee?

And again, all of this is at the expense of something like Lydia's grief for Allison.

If we needed to pad Stiles’ absence with proxies for him, why not at least give us characters who explore his dynamic with the pack? Why not, say, a flashback scene of when baby him met baby Lydia? We have actors for both their younger counterparts. Or, better yet, why not scenes between Stiles and Scott as little kids? Again, we have the actors, and it would allow for more exploration of their relationships. It’d be especially meaningful for Sciles, given their anxieties this season, but I have more thoughts on that below.

The Alpha of Beacon Hills. The extent to which Scott is shut out of arcs and relationships is bananas. There are things I like (Scott&Liam, Scott&Lydia&Malia as besties), but we're here for the parts that frustrated me, which were numerous:

His future and dreams. This builds on my frustration with Davis's general disinterest in the characters' lives, which I discussed above, but it was an unresolved plot point for Scott last season and gets worse this season. Season 5 (last semester) made Scott's future more tenuous than ever. His dream is UC Davis's prestigious vet science program, and he's working his ass off to get into it: he's got school, extracurriculars, his job, and the constant life-or-death chaos of people trying to kill him or wreak havoc he's told he's duty-bound to stop. Season 5 Scott seems despairingly resigned to things always getting worse, but also throws himself into things like AP Bio, despite his friends' lack of faith in him (hated that scene) and his teacher's negging. Then, of course, Theo and the Dread Doctors show up, and the last we hear is that Scott has missed a deadline for a scholarship. In 6a, he's excelling at his psych elective (AP Psych?), but is still stressed about how much class he's missed.

Then we get nothing until the very end of the season, when Stiles asks in passing: "Real question is, how did you get into UC Davis?" Why is this such a tiny moment? Why is Stiles so uncharacteristically snide about this achievement, when he's been one of Scott's biggest cheerleaders, and this season is meant to be a Sciles season? Wtf?

Scira. Not one word about Scott dealing with Kira's absence. Not one word!! Everyone jail forever!

Scott&Peter. This could have been such a juicy arc. Scott's last interaction with Peter was the season 4 showdown, but Scott still has hope for Peter—a hope he's committed to even when it causes friction with his best friend. Peter's return and his tentative interest in connecting with his daughter would have been a great basis for exploring what it means for Scott to have this hope, or just an exploration of Scott and Peter in general. Peter is Scott's first supernatural villain and his own supernatural origin story, and Scott forgets him. The show gives us a beautifully devastating scene where Scott goes to help a seriously injured man and, in taking his pain, discovers that this was the man who caused him some of his own worst pain! Scream!

But then… nothing? Scott and Peter barely have interactions, never mind a meaningful dynamic. It could have been so powerful. Such a waste.

Scott&Theo. Some of this was really good! The moment when Scott walks into his house and suddenly sees the kid who murdered him standing in his living room, seemingly have once again convinced Liam to believe him! I loved it! We get a very rare moment of Scott being at the edge of his rope, ready to snap, and we can see Theo's shock. The last time he saw Scott, Scott was angry but also desperate to get away, shaking when he got close to him, staring at him with big sad eyes. But now things have changed! You can see it hit Theo. That's so good, and there are elements of the Sceo arc in this season that I adore.

But after that dynamic return, Scott and Theo split up, and we don't get any of the charged conversations and confrontations that Liam and Theo get—why not? It would have been so good!

What moments we do get prioritize Theo's perspective. In the finale showdown with Douglas, for example, he mocks Scott that a lone wolf never survives. At that point, Theo makes his entrance to declare: "He's not alone. He's got a pack."

This is so significant! It directly recalls the murder, when Theo trapped Scott alone and told him he didn't have a pack. Beyond that, Theo's risking his life in a seemingly impossible fight, just to back up Scott, without even claiming he's part of the pack, and in facing Douglas, he's confronting a demon from his own past.

But that's the point. This moment is mostly about Theo. We barely get Scott's reaction, beyond the shock of Theo's arrival, and then the tone changes with Malia and Peter's arrival. We don't get Scott's perspective on that moment, or Theo at this point, or anything else with them. Blech.

Scott&Melissa. I could go on about how their dynamic was dropped about halfway through season 2, but I'm gonna try to keep it to 6a here so please know I'm exhibiting great restraint! Anyway, they get so little. There's that devastating scene in "Ghosted" when Scott hallucinates that his mother's been murdered and doesn't yet realize it. So haunting, and potentially so resonant to their relationship: does he worry that being a constantly targeted werewolf has doomed her? That he can't protect her? That he's already lost her in some sense? How does it tie in to the fact that she's then taken by the Wild Hunt, and he's seemingly doomed to lose her, that he's lost her already? We barely linger on that moment.

We see him teach her to use a weapon, but the moment's gravity is ignored for the joke of her electrocuting her son. Melissa's arc with Chris is half-played for laughs, even though it represents a significant move on her part to become more involved. Why now? What does it mean for her? For that matter, what does it mean for her to date the man who once treated her son like a rabid dog? Does she even know about that? Does her son have any feelings about their relationship? We don't know. 

Scott&Stiles. Omg, ok, where to begin. This should have been the Sciles season, and its faults had nothing to do with the acting—the love and loss was palpable for Posey and O'Brien, and I think that gives their arc the poignancy people love about this season. They act their hearts out around some really awful writing.

The writing starts off well. It seems like the season is going to address some of the fallout and unresolved communication issues of season 5. Stiles, who's still petrified of losing everyone, is obsessed with being "needed," while Scott, who's been shackled to a nightmare since he was bitten, is desperate to no longer be required to fight. This recalls a lot of the tension of 5x01, which was never really addressed, and it's a great theme for the final semester of senior year.

The two also struggle to articulate how much they mean to each other, which seems like a lingering issue from s5. By the end of 5b, they'd affirmed that they were on the same page, in the same pack, and needed each other, but hadn't articulated their anxieties about losing each other. A season in which they're separated is the perfect way to explore it, and at first, it seems like they're going to. Scott uses his psych class to guess at how Stiles' anxieties are manifesting, as if it's been on his mind. He asks nervously if Stiles wants to split up (to look for clues), and seems relieved when Stiles refuses, as if the question is about something deeper.

Stiles, for his part, answers with meaningful intensity. He's clearly trying to express that he doesn't want to lose Scott, in the same way that his obsession with being "needed" is about not wanting to lose people, and being convinced that a crisis is the only way to hold on to them. Scott, meanwhile, sees crises as what get between him and his connections to people—they're what take people away from him, and him away from his life with them. This is a great theme to explore for Sciles, because the answer to both issues is the fact that their friendship has always been bigger than supernatural crises—older than Scott being bitten, bigger than the Wild Hunt. Scott could assure Stiles that he's never going to lose him—not because Scott needs his help, but because he wants his friendship. He'll never draw away even if it means tearing apart the Wild Hunt. Stiles, for his part, could assure Scott that no matter how many crises there are, how often Scott is forced to be the true alpha, he'll always be Stiles' friend first: "You'll always be human to me." Both significant statements after s5!

At the very least, the season seems like it's going to make these two articulate how much they mean to each other. In one of my favorite moments of the season, Stiles realizes he's going to be taken and tries to talk to Scott. O'Brien's acting is so good here, because you can see that Stiles is beyond trying to explain what the problem is. He just wants to tell Scott something like goodbye, how much Scott means to him—but he can't. There's no way he's saying goodbye, and his love for Scott is too big to articulate.

And Posey's reaction is soooo good. You can see Scott take in that Stiles is clearly struggling with something, and that this struggle is significant in the same way as the one from the previous season. He won't push Stiles to talk right now, and wants Stiles to know he isn't drawing away: "Tell me later." At the same time, he's holding Stiles to actually come talk to him, instead of stewing like he did in s5: tell me later.

But then Stiles is gone! Scream!

And then, once Stiles is gone, Scott struggles with how to articulate how much Stiles means through the hole his absence creates. All he can say is that it feels like he's missing a limb, and when it comes time to remember Stiles in "Memory Found," he gets so overwhelmed with how much Stiles means to him that he almost dies. 

All of this suggests that the payoff for this struggle is them finally articulating what they mean to each other--in the most basic way! They're traumatized eighteen year old guys, no one is expecting speeches. Just something about how their friendship answers some of their most existential worries: "I still got you."

But instead we get:

SCOTT: They still need us. STILES: They'll always need us. And, you know, I... I need you. You know that. SCOTT: I need you, too. I'm gonna miss you. STILES: No, really, I need you, though. Uh... I lost my license in the Hunt, so you have to drive.

Why is Davis so allergic to meaningful expressions of love in the context of characters leaving? So many characters disappear with no goodbyes (Jackson, Isaac, Danny), or only the briefest one (Kira, Derek). O'Brien and Posey do their best with this scene—both of them seem near tears—but the writing's joke-y tone works against them at every turn. It's Stiles' final scene before the finale, and the capstone to Scott's greatest relationship in the season and arguably his greatest in the show, and it could have been so much stronger if Davis weren't an infuriating mix of apathetic and cowardly.

This concludes this episode of Spikeface’s Sundry 6A Snipes! Thank you for letting me rant<3. 

[theshinazugawaslut]

Sanemi is definitely the type of person that falls in love once and that's it

You can't tell me that, with the amount of walls the man has built, he would open them more than once

you start dating him and that's it, you're locked for life

I will always be on this train. No matter what AU or verse you put him, I think he'll always remain the same.

It's why you'll see me doing first love!reader or childhood friend!reader or wife!reader or usually virgin!Sanemi fics the most.

Sanemi's a really big family man (obviously) — I'm also incredibly family-oriented myself (my parents, my two little sisters, and my little brother are my whole life, like, quite literally). I don't think Sanemi necassarily cares about friends a lot, like he's not against the idea of them, but he'd rather hang around Genya or his mum or even his youngest brother (I'm the same).

So I think for him, the idea of being with someone is very special to him, so once he falls in love, that's it. Love is sacred for him. He's chasing you to the ends of earth, loving you till you're his and past that. "Till death do us part-" Nah, Sanemi's with you even in the afterlife, he's your husband/lover forever.

He's very guarded, like you said, so if you manage to peel back those layers, he's yours forever. I think he's guarded in every sense, in any AU, he keeps himself locked up for only his loved ones to see and sometimes he'll hide from them, too.

I think intimacy would be very, very sacred for him, too. He's definitely not the type to have hook-ups or one-night-stands or meaningless sex with no emotion, I just can't see that in him. Hell, you're his first everything: first love, first kiss, first hand-holding, first blush, first butterflies in his stomach. So when he loves you, he loves you. He'll let you take off every piece of clothing like you took off the layers of his heart and made him warm, so warm.

He's a one-woman man only and he takes pride in the fact, he's yours, utterly yours. He's a downbad simp and he's a-okay with that.

And you better agree with me, too.

[seramilla]

We need more of the vampire au like what were Vaggie's parents like cuz from the comments they were shitty but how shitty. Also Carmilla being Lady Dimitrescu is super true. Sorry for the ramble but I genuinely just wanna ask for hurt-comfort maybe all four are together and Vaggie shares something about her shitty parents then gets comfort.

Vaggie wouldn't normally have run out into the wilderness on her own. Not in the middle of winter. Not at night, when all manner of ghouls and monsters could meet her on the midnight mountain road, and do such unspeakable, maniacal horrors to her. However, at the time, Vaggie thought that fate better than the alternative.

Her entire life, she knew her parents would eventually marry her off to some noble's son. That fact was all she'd known since the day she was born, and her parents never let her forget it. As soon as she was to turn 18, she'd be shipped off to marry some stranger across the sea, whom she'd never met, and had no idea what sort of person they'd be. Would they abuse her? Would they beat her? Vaggie never wanted her life to be a bargaining chip.

So the night before her 18th birthday, she'd snuck out. And suddenly found herself being rescued by a fucking vampire of all people. She'd never told Carmilla the real reason she'd been out there that night, nearly frozen to death in the snow. It's been...how many years now? Dozens? Life as an immortal vampire makes the passage of time rather meaningless. Still, she and her adopted sisters thought it would be fun to tell stories of their lives as humans one night. All of her history had just....spilled out of her. She must have needed to get it off her chest. She feels better about it now.

Vaggie also hadn't intended on crying at the telling. But it's like, now that the truth is laid bare, all those emotions of her human self come rushing back. She buries her face in her hands, trying not to appear like a weakling in front of these powerful women. Weakness is one thing Carmilla usually doesn't tolerate...so it's a surprise when Odette of all people puts her arm around her, and Vaggie lays her head on the blond's shoulder.

"It's okay, Vags," Odette says, just letting Vaggie cry into her shoulder. "You can let it out sometimes. It's good for the soul."

"Yeah!" Clara says, punching Vaggie's shoulder lightly. Very lightly. It's more like an affectionate bump. "We all had shitty lives before coming here. We got your back, girl!"

Vaggie looks over at Carmilla, making sure it's okay. In front of her victims, Carmilla is a ruthless, unforgiving killer; one who takes no prisoners and brooks no quarter. But with her girls, once in a while...some of that softness that she rarely shows shines through. Just a little. Enough to make Vaggie feel wanted.

"Come here, mi amor," she says nonchalantly, holding open her wide arms for Vaggie. She smirks. "I only do this like once a decade, so you'd better take advantage while you can."

Vaggie falls into Carmilla's hug. She is thankful for the family that she found, and thinks They can all fucking die in a fire for all I care, about the one she gave up.