#more and more often it seems like they don’t have anything to say and i just. feel like a bother

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra VII

Read Neighbors here | ~1.8k words

From me: surprise! This has been in my drafts since I finished the original storyline

Warnings: none

Summary: It's the first s'mores fire of the summer. She and Harry are in love with their little life. And Rory hates lying.

“Hey lad,” Harry said. They were sitting on the couch watching the latest Disney movie that Rory had been asking to watch. Harry paused it and Rory looked at Harry curiously. He wondered if he forgot to put his shoes away or a different chore that Mumma asked before she left to see his Auntie. “D’you remember when y’went to the hospital cause y’were sick... and we ate pancakes the next morning?”

“I remember. Mumma made chocolate milk,” he nodded.

“Right,” Harry chuckled. The real highlight of that morning it seemed. “Do y’remember me asking if I could date, Mummy?”

He thought for a moment and nodded. For Rory, that was a weird question when it was asked. But he didn’t think too much of it in itself because he was little. Also, Harry was his best friend, so he didn’t really mind because it just meant he got to play with Harry more often. “Yeah, I remember.”

Harry smiled, took a deep breath. “Do y’think you’d be okay with me marrying Mummy?”

“What’s that? Like have Christmas with Mumma?” his little brow puckered together. “We already do that Harry, silly.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. Rory was the cutest thing in the entire world. “That’s merry with an e, lad. I said marry with an a. D’you know what marry means?”

He shook his head. “I hearded it once in a movie.”

Harry smiled and looked at his hands a moment before he looked up at the now six-year-old. “I ask Mummy if she wants t’marry me and if she says yes, I have t’give Mummy a ring t’put on her finger. And then we would have a big party.”

“I like parties,” Rory smiled impishly nodding his head.

Harry laughed quietly again and nodded. “Me too. All of our friends and family would come and... well I’d be Mummy’s husband and she’d be my wife.”

Rory knew those words from kindergarten. His teacher had a husband. “Wouldn’t you be my dad, then?”

Swallowing nervously, Harry nodded. He was wondering if Rory would think about that. “Well, yeah, kind of.”

“I thought you already were,” Rory shrugged casually.

Harry chuckled. He could have cried if he wasn’t trying so hard to keep it together. “Well thanks, lad. I kind of think so too. This would make it a bit more real.”

“Would you and Mumma have another baby?”

“Maybe,” Harry smiled. He certainly hoped so.

“I think Mumma would like a girl,” he told Harry. “So then she would have someone to play with like I play with you.”

Harry smiled. “So I can marry her?”

“Does this mean you have to kiss more?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Probably.”

“I still don’t like kissing,” he grumbled.

“I know, lad. We won’t kiss that much in front of you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “You can marry her. Can we finish the movie?”

Harry pulled Rory into his arms and gave him a huge hug and kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Rory,” Harry said knowingly.

“I love you too, Harry,” he giggled.

*

“Mumma, do we have s’mores stuff?” Rory asked.

“Hmm... let me go look,” she said. “I’ll get some drinks, too. Do you want anything in particular, baby?” She asked looking at Harry.

Harry’s heart warmed at her kindness as always. “M’fine, kitten, thank you.”

“Careful around the fire, boys,” she said as she headed back for the house to look for supplies and drinks. Rory was sitting patiently by the fire while Harry kept an eye on him and the flames. Glancing toward the gate leading out toward the front he saw a single hand wave over top and then a thumbs up.

“Hey lad, d’you remember our conversation from a couple weeks ago? When I asked you if I could marry Mummy?”

He nodded watching the flames. “We’ll have a party, right?”

Harry chuckled. “Yes,” he nodded. “Would y’want t’help me ask Mummy?” He wondered.

He shrugged. “Sure!” He wasn’t doing anything at the moment. Mumma and Harry always said he was a really good helper too.

“Good,” Harry grinned. “M’gonna ask her when she comes back out. D’you think y’can give her this?” He asked, handing him a card from the back of his chair’s pocket compartment. He nodded. “Tell her y’made it at school and y’want to give it to her now,” he winked.

“That’s lying, Harry,” Rory pouted and shook his head. “Mumma doesn’t like lying.”

Shoot. Harry forgot that Rory was the sweetest little boy in the world. “You’re right. S’a little fib, I promise she’ll forgive you. This is the one time.” He wrinkled his eyebrows together and pursed his lips. Rory really wanted to help Harry. But he did not like the idea of lying to Mumma. She would get really mad. “I promise this one is okay,” Harry said again.

Rory sighed and nodded. “Okay... just this once though.”

Harry nodded and crossed over his heart. “Just this once.”

“Alright boys,” she said returning with her arms full, silencing Harry’s prep work. “I have the goods. Are we ready for the first s’mores fire of the summer?” She said wrinkling her nose so cutely as she settled the stuff on the nearby patio table. Harry glanced at the gate once more and then back to her.

“Here, love,” Harry said moving to her side and pressing a hand on her lower back. “Let me,” he smiled. “You sit,” he said pressing a kiss on the side of her head so gently she wondered what that was all about. It was just s’mores. And she liked s’mores. She was good at making them and didn’t mind in the slightest. But it was nice as always for Harry to just do things for her after so many years of having to do everything on her own. Even when he did little things like scooping Rory up from his car seat or carrying the groceries in, it just made everything so much easier for her.

She thought about the month and a half she tried avoiding Harry. It was by far the stupidest thing she had ever done, and she wondered often what would have happened if she never got over her silly fears. But fortunately, she didn’t have to worry long, because Harry was right there, making s’mores for her and Rory like he always did.

“Mumma, I made this in school,” Rory said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. Rory looked at Harry impishly as he handed the envelope to his mum. Good thing this would be the only lie. He was a little worse for wear on the delivery.

“For me?” She smiled curiously and took the envelope in her fingers. She slid open the top.

“Uh-huh,” Rory giggled sheepishly.

Harry glanced at the gate again and then held his breath as she pulled the card from the envelope. “What’s it say, Mumma?” Rory giggled and if she hadn’t already been reading the words on the card, she would have realized Rory had no part in this little scheme.

She turned suddenly after her eyes scanned the card once and she looked at Harry with wild eyes. “Harry?” She asked nervously.

“Harry said I could lie,” Rory said quickly seeing her discomfort and was worried he would get in trouble. He didn’t like it when Mumma was mad at him. Mumma was the best and didn’t ask Rory to do anything except to not lie. “Just this once,” he promised.

“That’s okay, love bug,” she said softly barely looking at him as she did. Relieved that he wasn’t going to upset Mumma, Rory sat back in his chair and waited for Harry to do whatever it was that he wanted to do.

For once, she ignored Rory. Her eyes stayed on Harry as she felt her heart nearly beat out of her ribs. “What does it say, beautiful?” Harry smiled. His eyes were so gentle.

“It says ‘Life is s’more fun with you, will you spend the rest of it with me?’” She read carefully.

Harry bit his lip. “It is s’more fun with you,” he repeated, and he moved in front of her chair and knelt between the fire and her. “Will you marry me?” It was amazing Harry could be so hopelessly in love with her and have her still be so surprised that she was deserving of love that was so all encompassing, Harry sometimes wondered how he could stay upright.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly and her eyes darted to Rory so briefly, but Harry still caught it.

Harry chuckled. “Yes, really, you silly, sweet thing,” he rolled his eyes. “M’horribly in love with you and would like t’spend the rest of our lives together,” he repeated. “Please marry me?” He repeated.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, just say yes!” Her sister’s voice distinctly called from the front gate.

“You brought my sister here?” She asked with a teary giggle.

“Auntie?!” Rory shouted and ran for the gate.

“Um... I brought everyone... I really anticipated you saying ‘yes’ a lot quicker than this,” he chuckled awkwardly. Rory opened the gate, and the entourage of people Harry invited came through the gate. Her eyes lifted to look at them so briefly she barely saw who was in attendance. Her eyes returned to Harry knelt before her waiting expectantly for her answer. “I’ll beg if you want,” he said softly with a grin.

“Mumma, look! Grandma’s here!”

She smiled and waved to her mom standing beside Anne and Gemma who were watching with such happy smiles. “You really want to marry me?” She asked softly. As if no one was in the backyard except her and Harry.

“Very badly,” he nodded, and he pulled the box from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he smiled gently. The diamond glittered in the sun so beautifully. Harry was wonderful. He always was and this was no exception. But she closed the box quickly as she answered.

“I’d marry you without it,” she whispered.

He chuckled, shook his head at her. “So that’s a yes?” Harry had never felt so happy. He didn’t think she would say no, but he knew she could convince herself she didn’t deserve happiness if he gave her enough time.

“God, yes,” she nodded and giggled excitedly. She leaned forward as Harry moved toward her as well and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

“You said no kissing!” Rory called.

She laughed against his lips, ignoring her son’s protest and continued kissing Harry. “I’ll love you forever,” she promised.

Harry grinned, nodded, and kissed her again as he mumbled against her lips. “And then some.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

neighbors taglist: @mopeymousey @vmpellie

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 + 𝗏𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 ; "𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇."

It’s day three of bed rest, and Soap’s already climbed up the walls of his room and back down again. Injured or not, he’s never been one to sit still, and being restricted to the base with “no hard jobs, no missions”—as the medic had stressed—has left him itching for something to do. Restless, he decides to wander, eventually finding himself at the library-slash-records room, a quiet corner of base he’s never thought to visit before.

He thumbs through a book on the nearest shelf, flipping pages more out of boredom than actual interest, when a voice behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin.

“Good choice,” you say casually, glancing over his shoulder at the book in his hands. “I read that one when I was a teenager.”

Soap whips around, wide-eyed and ready to defend himself before he registers you standing there, a bemused smile on your face. It’s not often anyone manages to sneak up on him, especially after working alongside Ghost—but here you are, quiet as a shadow.

“Christ, you gave me a fright!” He laughs, trying to shake off his surprise. “You a ghost yourself, or just a natural sneak?”

“Neither,” you reply with a shrug. “I just work here. Records department.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a hint of scepticism. “Records, aye? Right, sure. So… what squad d’you belong to, then?”

You laugh, not seeming to mind his incredulity. “No squad. No task force, either. Just a regular base staff member. I make sure all your physical files stay organised, is all.”

“Well, I didn't expect to find a hidden gem like you in here,” he says, putting on his usual flirty grin, expecting some kind of blush or maybe even a shy look.

But you just give another amused smile. “I’m not a gem, just the records keeper. I also stock the books,” you add, gesturing around. “Figured a small library might be good for those interested. We don’t have much, but it’s a nice change of pace for some people.”

The flirting sails right over your head, and Soap’s grin falters ever so slightly before he recovers. “Ah, so you're the one to thank for this wee slice of quiet paradise on base, huh?”

You nod, a touch of pride slipping through as you straighten a few already-tidy books. “It’s simple, but I like to keep things in order here for whoever wants to pick up something to read.”

Soap tries another grin, leaning against a shelf, his tone softening just a bit. “Well, reckon I’ll be a regular if it means more chats like this. Seems like a fair deal, yeah?”

But you only hum thoughtfully, eyes scanning the shelf beside him, clearly cataloguing if anything’s out of place. Soap finds himself smirking, both amused and oddly challenged by how thoroughly you’ve ignored his attempts to charm you. He realises with a quiet laugh that this just might be the break he needed.

. . .

In the quiet of his quarters, Soap lounges on his bunk with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to his mum and sister talk about his childhood. It had started with the usual check-in—hearing how he was healing, how things were on base—and soon drifted into familiar family banter.

His sister, Cait, laughs as she recalls his ‘miraculous’ ability to get hurt every other day growing up. “Remember when you broke both your arms jumping off that shed roof, John?” she teases, barely stifling her laughter. “Mum had to practically wrap you in bubble wrap.”

“Aye, aye, laugh it up,” Soap mutters, though he’s grinning. “Was tryin’ to perfect my landing, is all.”

His mum’s voice chimes in with a fond chuckle, “Perfect it you did, son. Broke both arms and had us all in stitches—not just ‘cause of the casts, but because you couldn’t stop fidgeting.”

“Oh, I remember,” he groans, recalling the itch of the casts and the boredom of sitting still for weeks. “I was goin’ mad with nothing to do!”

“That’s why I read to you,” his mum adds, the warmth in her voice audible even over the line. “You were always restless, even with two arms in casts.”

Soap’s grin turns a bit softer. “I remember that… just not the book itself. Somethin’ about a fox and a forest?”

His mum hums thoughtfully. “It was a sweet story, but I can’t recall the title. Do you, Cait?”

Cait only chuckles, clearly drawing a blank. “Oh, I remember the fuss he made, but the book? Not a chance.”

Soap shakes his head, feeling a little pang of nostalgia. “Wouldn’t mind findin’ it again someday. Reminds me of home.”

A few days later, Soap strides through the hallway, his arm still snug in a sling but his energy undeterred. He greets everyone he passes, effortlessly drawing smiles and laughter from a few soldiers standing by the vending machines. A corporal waves, and Soap flashes him a quick grin, offering a joking salute with his free hand. 

But today, he’s not here to soak up the attention. His steps have purpose, carrying him straight back to the quiet sanctuary of the records room. When he steps inside, the calm hits him like a breath of fresh air. His eyes land on you instantly, tucked in the back of the room, your head bent over something on the desk.

You’re focused, scribbling notes or reading from a thick stack of papers, and for a moment, Soap just watches. There’s something about the way the light catches on your face, the peaceful concentration you exude. He doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until his cheeks ache slightly. He adjusts his posture and clears his throat, strolling over casually, pretending not to notice the way his pulse picks up just a bit.

“Hey, there,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet like a soft ripple on a still pond. You glance up, blinking at the interruption, and he swears there’s a flicker of recognition in your gaze that makes his chest tighten.

“Back again?” you tease lightly, setting your pen down. “Getting into trouble already?”

“Nah, just takin’ it easy,” he says, his tone breezy. “Needed a break from bein’ so popular, y’know? The fans are relentless.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

He shifts slightly, leaning his good arm against the edge of the desk. “Actually, I was hopin’ you might be able to help me with somethin’. Feels a bit daft, but here goes.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling the weight of how silly this might sound. “There’s this book. From when I was a kid. My Ma read it to me when I broke both arms once—don’t ask,” he adds quickly, grinning sheepishly. “But I can’t remember the title. Just bits of it.”

That piques your interest. You sit up a little straighter, curiosity lighting up your features. “What do you remember about it?” you ask, your tone genuinely warm.

Soap exhales, relieved you haven’t laughed him off, and starts piecing it together. “Right, so it was about this fox. A scrappy wee thing, always gettin’ into trouble. Lived in a forest, sneakin’ around like it owned the place. There was… a badger, I think? Big, grumpy fella, always tellin’ the fox to stop bein’ reckless. But the fox didn’t listen—bit of a troublemaker, that one.”

You nod, your attention fixed on him, and it spurs him on. “One part I remember clear as day—there was a trap. The fox got its paw caught, and I thought it was done for. Had my heart in my throat. My Ma kept tellin’ me it’d be fine, but I was sweatin’ over it.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as if to brush off the emotion. “Then there was somethin’ about the forest gettin’ destroyed, so the fox had to leave. Find a new home, y’know?”

You lean forward slightly, completely drawn in, and it makes his pulse quicken. “That sounds… really sweet, actually. And a little sad.”

“Aye, it was,” he says, his voice softer now. “Hit me like a brick back then. Think I might’ve cried—don’t tell anyone that,” he adds quickly, wagging a finger with mock severity.

Your smile widens. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But… you’re describing it so vividly. I might know it. Hang on.” You tap your chin thoughtfully, sorting through your mental catalog of titles. Soap watches you closely, his expression softening as you mentally sift through the possibilities. After a moment, you shake your head, regret flashing in your eyes. “I think I know the book, but I don’t have it here. Sorry.”

Soap raises his brows, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a memory like a steel trap, lass. How d’you even keep track of all that?”

You wave him off modestly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nothing, really. I just like books. Spend enough time with them, and you start remembering the little details.”

“Still,” you say, your tone tinged with determination. “I’ll keep an eye out. If it crosses my path, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Soap’s grin widens, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes it hard to look away. “Aye, I’ll hold you to that.” His voice softens, and for a moment, there’s a quiet warmth between you that neither of you rush to fill.

“Thanks,” he says finally, the sincerity in his tone catching you slightly off guard. “You’re good company, y’know that?”

Before you can reply, he pushes off the desk with his good arm, the playful edge returning to his expression as he gives you a wink. “Don’t let me distract you too much, aye? I’ll see myself out.”

You manage a small laugh, watching as he makes his way toward the door, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in his wake. But just as he steps into the hallway, he pauses, glancing back through the open door.

For a brief second, his gaze softens, the memory of the fox, his Ma’s soothing voice, and the quiet comfort of your little nook weaving together to warm a part of him he hadn’t realised needed it. With a nod to himself, he turns away, the thought of returning already forming in the back of his mind.

. . .

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual hum of conversation and clatter of trays. Soap, now out of his sling and feeling like himself again, sat among Gaz, Ghost, and a few others from the base, his laughter loud and infectious as they swapped stories and teased one another. His attention was fully on Gaz’s exaggerated recounting of a drill mishap when Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the din.

“Oi, Johnny. Little mouse headed this way.”

Soap blinked, confused, until Ghost gave a subtle nod toward the figure approaching from behind. Soap twisted around, and his breath hitched the moment he spotted you.

Springing to his feet far too quickly, Soap’s knee hit the table with a loud clang, trays rattling dangerously. The others shouted half-hearted complaints, but Soap didn’t care. All his attention was on you, standing there with a paper bag in hand, a shy smile gracing your lips.

“I—uh—hi,” Soap stammered, suddenly unsure of himself as you held the bag out toward him.

“I found it,” you said simply, your tone giddy. “Thought you might like to have it.”

He stared at the bag, then at you, before carefully taking it from your hands. His fingers brushed yours briefly, and he swore he felt a spark. Peeking inside, his jaw dropped. There it was—the book. The cover was pristine, like it had just been pulled from a bookstore shelf.

“You didn’t…” he began, but words failed him. His gaze flicked between the book and your face, awe written plainly across his features.

You chuckled softly, patting the hand that held the book. “It’s no big deal. Enjoy it, yeah?”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Soap frozen in place. He watched you go, only snapping out of his trance when Gaz whistled low under his breath. Soap turned back to the table, clutching the bag as if it held a treasure.

Seated back at the table, the book resting carefully in his lap, he barely touched his food, his usual chatter replaced by a soft, distracted smile. He flipped the book over in his hands, running his thumb along the edges of the paper bag, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Someone’s got a fan,” Gaz teased, grinning.

“Shut it,” Soap muttered, his cheeks flushing.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. One of the younger men at the table, a mechanic who had joined the base recently, leaned forward, asking him about you with a smirk edged with something he didn’t like, at all.

Soap’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. Ghost, always the observer, grumbled lowly. “Leave it, lad,” he warned, his voice a quiet rumble. The mechanic wisely dropped the subject.

As the conversation shifted back to base gossip, Soap’s focus stayed on the book in his hands. He traced the edges of the paper bag absentmindedly, his mind replaying the moment you’d handed it to him and the warmth of your hand on his. His smile widened, soft and genuine, as he looked the book over again, the edges of the paper bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

Ghost glanced at Soap briefly, noting the faraway look in his eyes. With a barely audible snort, he shook his head and returned to his meal, leaving the smitten Scotsman to his thoughts.

. . .

Soap spent the better part of the next day scouring every corner of the base, peeking into offices, workshops, and even the records room during normal hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each empty space only added to his frustration.

“Sneaky little mouse," he muttered under his breath with an undeniable smile, hands on his hips.

His gripping earned a chuckle from Gaz, who leaned back in his chair and exchanged a knowing look with Ghost. “Maybe you’re just not lookin’ in the right places, mate,” Gaz teased, popping a peanut into his mouth.

Ghost, however, offered a rare bit of practical advice. “Try the rec room. Late hours.” His tone was low, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes I go there when I can’t sleep. Tea’s decent, and I watch matches on my phone. Could be she’s got the same idea.”

Soap perked up at the suggestion, nodding gratefully. “Aye, worth a shot. Thanks, mate!"

Later that evening, Soap made his way to the rec room. The base was quieter, the halls dimly lit, and the faint hum of a vending machine filled the otherwise empty space. As he approached the rec room, the soft clink of a kettle caught his attention. Peering in, he spotted you by the small kitchenette, the warm glow of the stove’s light illuminating your face as you poured hot water into a mug.

For a moment, he hesitated. His usual bravado faltered as he took in the calm scene, unsure how to approach without disturbing the peaceful air you carried with you. But then, squaring his shoulders, he stepped inside.

“Didn’t think I’d find you 'ere,” he said, his voice low but carrying a playful lilt.

You glanced over your shoulder, surprised but smiling softly when you saw him. “Evening, Sergeant. Tea, late-night stroll, or both?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, maybe. Been lookin’ for you, actually. You’ve got a knack for disappearin’, y’know.”

You turned back to the stove, shaking your head lightly as you reached for another mug. “You found me now, didn’t you? Want some tea?”

“Aye, thanks.” Soap approached, watching as you handed him the steaming mug. He cradled it, savoring the warmth in his hands. “Listen, about the book…”

You waved him off, cutting him off before he could continue. “It’s nothing, really. I should be the one thanking you. You’ve shown interest in the books and my little corner. It means a lot to have someone notice.”

Soap blinked, caught off guard by your words. Before you could turn back around to retrieve your own mug, he reached out, catching your hand. His fingers curled around yours gently, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles.

The contact was warm, steady, and startlingly tender.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “It wasn’t nothin’. You went out of your way for me, and… it means more than I can say.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat when he lifted your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm, his expression earnest as he looked up at you, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes.

For once, you were the one left speechless, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of his sincerity settled over you. Soap released your hand gently, his fingers lingering for just a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice a near whisper.

You swallowed, your cheeks feeling uncharacteristically warm. “You’re welcome, Sergeant,” you managed, offering him a soft smile.

“Stay a while?” he asked, nodding toward the small table tucked into the corner.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you nodded, moving to sit down. He followed, his mug cradled in his hands as he eased into the chair across from you. The quiet hum of the room settled over you both, broken only by the soft clink of his mug against the table as he set it down.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt warm, almost fragile, like something new and precious was taking root between you.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” he said, his tone low and easy.

“For what?” you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“Doin’ things that catch a man off guard,” he replied, his blue eyes glinting with something playful yet sincere. “Like huntin’ down a book I barely remembered just to give me a piece of my past back.”

You waved him off modestly, though the compliment made your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. "It's...just a book."

“To you, maybe,” he countered, his voice soft. “To me, it’s somethin’ more. And so’s this.”

He gestured vaguely, encompassing the quiet space you now shared, the table between you feeling more like a bridge than a barrier.

You lowered your gaze to your mug, the steam curling upward as you processed his words. There was a warmth in his voice, an openness you hadn’t expected but found yourself leaning into.

When you finally looked up, Soap was watching you, his gaze steady and filled with something unspoken. You held his eyes, the corners of your lips curving into a smile that matched his.

“This is nice,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Aye,” he agreed, his voice low. “It is.”

And as the two of you sat there, sipping tea and sharing quiet smiles, the space between you seemed to shrink, the glow of the moment wrapping around you both like a promise of something more to come.

banner credit

[confiaenanaa]

Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.

needed - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?

warnings: cursing, drinking

A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!

-Fuck you! 

-Oh, piss off!

Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 

…

He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.

He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 

That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 

-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 

-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 

-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!

- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!

- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!

-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!

-Fuck you!

-Oh, piss off!

-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 

-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 

-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.

-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!

Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.

But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.

Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 

Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 

She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 

She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 

When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 

She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a ���fuck the world” kind of mood.

She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 

The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 

She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.

“hello?”

“babyyy??”

“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”

She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 

…

The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 

As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 

Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 

-Wait, look, I gotcha something.

He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.

-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.

Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 

A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.

-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 

He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.

Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.

[luvyeni]

MÉNAGE À TROIS ,, 钟辰乐 & 박지성

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jisung walks in on you and chenle having sex … and you both don’t mind ヾ

boyfriend!钟辰乐・ FEM!reader ・ ‎ 박지성 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎2.4k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . threesome, unprotected sex, oral ( M ), mxm themes, mxf themes, no real dom or sub themes, jisung could be seen as a sub, alludes to poly relationship

request. hello!! could you maybe write some smut where chenle is fucking yn and all of a sudden jisung enters their apartment and yn is like “i don’t care keep going” and eventually jisung finds them both and is invited to join

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i finished it , i hope you like it 🫶🏾✨

you didn’t even hear the door close; chenle on the other hand was always hyper aware of everything, even when he was balls deep inside you. “oh-oh fuck baby, fuck.” he struggled to get the words out. “fuck the door just opened , jisung is home.” he said in between moans. “fuck be quiet so he won’t hear.”

you and chenle started out as friends; along with jisung — you three were a threesome who eventually moved in together. about a year into moving in together you and chenle entered a relationship, but you two never left jisung out; you guys did everything together still, but he still gave you two private time. “he’s gonna hear.”

you wrapped your legs around the man’s waist , keeping him from pulling out. “fuck i don’t care , keep going.” you moaned. “let him hear , don’t stop fucking me please.” you could feel the man above you twitching inside you. “fuck you want him to hear?” chenle said. he knew about the little infatuation you held with the younger boy, he knew you’d never cheat on him, but hearing you say this made him wonder how many times have you moaned a little bit too loud just for the boys amusement. “fucking slut.”

he grabbed your legs, almost folding them in half. “you want him to hear me fucking you?” he groaned. “give him some material to jerk off to?” him saying that affected himself more than you, the thought of his best friend stroking his cock to the thought of you two fucking. “sh-shit.” he cursed , you smirked. “se-seems like you want him to hear you as well.” that earned a slap to your cunt. “fucking slut shut up, gonna cum in this pussy , let him hear you cum.”

jisung on the other hand, he was unaware — his headphones shielding him from the outside noises. he was supposed to be working tonight, but his shift was cut short and all his other friends were busy so he was forced to come home. he didn’t mind being home, he loved it there, but he couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel sometimes. often left out of plans and having to make plans so you two can have private time. no you two never forced him to do that , but he could just tell when you wanted to be alone as a couple, and you did always try to include him in everything but you two were a couple and he didn’t just want to be there on obligation.

so maybe it was all in his head, but that was him. was he jealous of you two? no, he was happy his two bestest friends found love in each other — maybe he wished he could find something like that… or be a part of the original.

jisung never really struggled with his sexuality; he always knew he liked girls, that was a fact. but he also felt that small attraction to the same sex, there’s only so many times he can pop a boner at the gym sauna when looking at a naked guy before you just came to terms with it and jisung had.

did he find you both attractive? yes he was; but, out of respect for the both of you and your friendships he didn’t say anything… even if he did sometimes hear you two going at it — biting down on his shirt as he fisted his cock to the sounds of both of you moaning. the post nut clarity always left him disgusted with himself, unable to look both of you in his eye the next morning feeling like a pervert.

he was always successful in never walking in on you both; that would have been so awkward, especially if you both happened to lower your eyes and notice his hard on, but he was soon about to mess up that streak all because of those stupid noise blocking headphones you bought out of guilt. “chenle fuck im gonna cum!”

chenle was still plowing into you. “cum slut.” the knots in your stomach tightening, gripping the sheets. “fuck im gonna cum too.” both of you moaning, ready to cum. “oh fuck!” the door came swinging open, right as you both hit your highs. “shit chenle im cumming!”

jisung stood there, he couldn’t hear what just happened— but the visual he was given, your eyes rolling and his other male counterparts head rolling back, he could tell what just happened… and he was mortified. “oh my god, i'm so sorry.”

the two of you didn’t even notice him, until he said something. chenle smirked down at you hearing the boy's voice, his head turning around to face his friend. “i see those headphones work.” he said. “unless you wanted to walk in just as we were cumming together.”

he snatched the headphones off his head. “no-no i swear i didn’t hear anything and the door was open so i thought– chenle leave him alone.” you ran your fingers through your hair. “what? he’s the one still standing there watching like a perv while im still inside you.” you boyfriend said. “yeah and your cock is harder than before with this knowledge, so his company doesn’t seem to bother you.”

jisung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “i-im sorry, i swear i’ll leave you alone, i have these.” he nervously held the headphones, praying to whoever above you both didn’t notice his hard on. “why just so you can go in your room and jerk off , only to ignore us the next morning?” that made his cock twitch. “n-no im- jesus chen , spare him at least if you’re not gonna give him head.” the younger boy's eyes widened. “huh?”

“do you want me to suck you off?” chenle asked ever so nonchalantly, jisung was speechless. “of course he does, he’s been standing there with a hard on for a minute.” you smirked, eyes traveling down to his pants, he tried to cover it up. “i-i don’t know what to say.” he couldn’t tell if you two were playing with him. “well if he’s good at sucking dick like he is at eating pussy, i’d say yes.” you tapped chenle, signaling him to pull out.

you got up from the bed; making your way over to the boy; he felt like he was in a dream, he walked in on his friends fucking, now his fully nude best friend was guiding him to the bed were he was about to get head from his other friend. “sit down.” you pushed him down against the bed.

chenle sat back on his legs, watching you unbuckle another man’s pants; his eyes traveled to his friends cock popping out from his jeans; he’d seen it in his sweats, and he accidentally walked in on him numerous times, but it looked much bigger when he was hard. “think you can fit him in your mouth?” you asked your boyfriend, that made jisung groan. “this coming from mrs.i can’t give a blow job to save my life.” you scoffed. “remember that when you’re begging me to give you head… again.”

you two put your playful banter aside for the boy who still was pale as a ghost. “don’t be nervous.” you kissed his neck. “we’ll take care of you.” you sucked little hickeys down his neck. “don’t we always?” you bit down gently on his ear. “ye-yeah.” jisung stuttered. “you look like you’re about to cum already.” chenle wrapped his hands around the younger boy's cock. “fu-fuck.” he moaned as he began to stroke him, jisung prayed he didn’t cum soon. “are you really that sensitive?”

chenle pushed the boys legs open further, bring his lips down to his cock blowing in the boys tip making his hips buck. “fuck please.” jisung whimpered. “fuck.” his head was thrown back as his friend lowered his head down on his cock. “oh my god.” you smirked. “feel good?” jisung nodded.

chenle bobbed his head up and down on jisungs length, the tip of his friends cock kissing the back of his throat. “come here.” you grabbed the boys cheeks. “so cute.” you brought his lips against yours, taking his hands, bringing it down to your boobs; down your stomach and in between your legs. he moaned against your mouth feeling your wetness on his fingers, he often thought about doing this while he jerked himself off.

you pulled away he moaned as chenle sucked harder on his cock. “fu-fuck you’re so wet.” he moved his fingers up and down your slit. “fu-fuck ji.” you moaned. “put them in.” he pushed his slender finger past your hole. “shit.” you moaned as he curled his finger inside you. “you’re fucking good at that, gonna make me cum.”

jisung could already feel his orgasm approaching as well. “ch-chenle.” the older boy's cock jumped hearing the boy moan his name like that, it encouraged him to go faster. “oh wait fuck!” he groaned, he tried to stop the boy but you were currently riding his fingers and his other just wouldn’t cut it. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed just as the younger boy's head tipped back as his orgasm took over. “fuck!”

chenle pulled off the boy's cock, just in time because the boy was shooting sticky cum from his cock almost immediately, he jerked the boy off pulling more cum from him. “fuck look at both of you.” chenle said, his voice a little sore. “so fucked up, im glad you two got what you wanted im still fucking hard.”

jisung pulled his fingers out of you, your orgasm dripping down his hand. “don’t let it go to waste, taste it.” chenle ordered, jisung brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping his lips around. “taste like fucking candy doesn’t she?” he hummed. “next time you can taste it straight from the source.” chenle said. “right now i need to fuck or be fucked by either one of you.”

“how about you both fuck me this time and then next time we switch?” this was the second time jisung had heard next time and he wasn’t mad at it — he doesn’t think he’d be able to fuck anyone after this experience again. “of course you say that always ready to be fucked.” chenle scoffed. “ji lay down and you in his lap then, you wanna be fuck by both of us? fine.” chenle slapped your ass watching you climb on top of the boy. “look how wet you made her ji, fucking dripping on your cock.”

chenle wrapped his hand around jisungs cock once again, holding it as you sunk down on it. “oh fuck.” jisung let out a whimper like moan. “shes fucking tight ain’t she?” jisung nodded. “so-so fucking tight.” you moaned out feeling chenles finger enter your hole. “about to stretch this pussy past her limits.” he groaned, stroking his cock. “show jisung how good this messy cunt is.”

he removed his finger, replacing it with his cock. “chenle!” you screamed, feeling him pushing his cock inside you. “shit.” jisung moved, feeling his friend's cock brushing against his, both of them trapped together in the wonder that is your cunt, squeezing them like a vice. “my god this feels good.” you moaned, moving your hips yourself. “look at you, so impatient -fuck- such a damn slut.”

he slapped your ass; watching it recoil. “re-really putting on a show for our boy here aren’t you.” you smiled down at the younger boy moaning. “fu-fuck yeah, how will i get him stay.”

jisung moaned, hearing you boy talk about him like that. “yeah that’s your -fuck- that’s your goal, fucking him so good he stays?” you nodded, chenle grabbed your hips. “well then let me help put in some work, give him an even better reason.” he began to speed up, jisung hips bucked unintentionally , the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock, paired with his friend's cock rubbing against his. “sh-shit i love this so much.” jisung groaned. “so fucking much.”

the room was smoldering hot; sweat dripping down from each of you, your skin slapping against each other — all three of you moaning. you were the first one to cum , your body shaking as you came with a loud porn like scream. “shit.” chenle moaned our feeling your cunt convulse around him. “fuck im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum inside you.” he moaned, cock twitch as spurts of white shot inside you.

jisung was last to cum, you held his face in your hand. “im gonna cum.” he said. “i-i need to pull out.” he groaned. “no don't, please don't pull out.” jisung looked to chenle , who was still inside you. “fu-fuck you heard her, she wants to be used as a cum dump, then do what she wants…” chenle said. “cum inside her.”

that’s all jisung needed before he was cumming. “oh fuck!” he moaned, cumming. your eyes were fucked out as you laid against the boys chest. “we fucked her dumb ji , she gets real mushy afterwards.” chenle pulled out, watching the cum spill from your cunt. “sh-shut up.”

“get up.” chenle playfully slapped your ass. “chenle stop.” jisung found a small bit of comfort in how playful you two were afterwards, it wasn’t awkward at all. “jisung just twitched inside me.” you teased the younger boy. “did seeing him do that make you feel something?” his face turned an even deeper red. “you’re gonna have to stop being so timid if you want to continue this.” chenle said.

“this?” he said, he never thought it would go further than maybe once or twice — three times if he prayed hard enough. “you think i would’ve put your cock in my mouth if i didn’t plan on having you do the same to me eventually?” you chuckled seeing the boy's face. “chenle you have to lean slowly into that , not everyone likes giving head.”

“ji ji , let’s go shower.” you stood up, holding your hand out. “you want to shower with me?” you nodded. “chenle hates showering with me.” the older boy rolled his eyes. “because you keep the water temperature at hell, so no i don’t like seeing my skin steaming as it cooks me from the inside.” he grumbled. “both of you go shower and i’ll change the sheets , and order some food.”

jisung took your hand and you guided him to the bathroom. “come.” you called him over once you reached the bathroom. “if you can be quiet then i’ll show that chenle is just being a dick when he said i can’t give head , i just like to withhold it from him to piss him off.” jisung felt like he was in heaven.

chenle on the other hand was still grumbling as he fixed the bedsheets. “this is crazy.” he said to himself. “I found two people who hate giving head , but love getting head.”

he still couldn’t help but smile though…

©️LUVYENI

[itsabouttimex2]

For fun how about rating Wukong ship from lmk and give your opinion why?

SWK Ship Ratings

(Scores rank from -10 at the lowest, and 10 at the highest)

Shadowpeach

Name Rating: 5/10. Basic, but rolls off the tongue. Started the trend of Sun Wukong having extremely basic ship names- more on that below.

Canon Rating: 0/10. Whatever they had in the past, Macaque simply treats Wukong far too awfully to really justify the two of them ever getting together. Even the attempts at reconciliation feel more like extremely forced ship baiting, given how it goes from one of the two being marginally kinder to the other than usual, then immediately dropping it for more sniping. (Past!Shadowpeach receives 5/10.)

Fanon Rating: -10/10. I’ve spoken at length about this, but fans love to distort Wukong into a drooling abuser so stupid he can’t breath through his nose, usually while turning Macaque into a Possession Sue who only serves to be the author’s simpering self-insert who is the most perfect little baby of all time who has never ever done anything wrong at all even once. If there is an attempt to be “nuanced” or “unbiased” it manifest as “Sun Wukong “killed” (re: defended himself against) Macaque so he’s worse.” It’s an awful, extremely pervasive dynamic that rots any fandom enjoyment I could have had for this couple.

Personal Enjoyment: 6/10. Getting to write Macaque as the legitimately awful person that he is takes off the edge of seeing constant “uwu sadboi” Macaque content. Still, I rarely touch anyone else’s Shadowpeach content because of this.

Peachlotus

Name Rating: 2/10. As you’ll see, most ship names involving Sun Wukong are, uh… extremely lazy. Just one of the other character’s traits with “peach” slapped before/after it. Fandom really dropped the ball with most of these. This one is especially clunky, at least on my tongue.

(See, Macaque gets stuff like Lunartides, Inkypages, Shadowpeach, etc- all very cool.. We need to diversify the nouns is what I’m saying. Coulda been something like “GingerRoot” cause orange fur + plant boy. “FlowerBuds” for the platonic name for peaches + lotuses. Do you guys see what I’m saying. It can’t just be raw peaches all the way down.)

Canon Rating: 2/10. Ne Zha also doesn’t treat Wukong too kindly, interacting with him mostly through insults and physical attacks. He does seem to have some understanding of the king, though, which gives him a slight boost over Macaque.

Fanon Rating: 1/10. It barely exists, and what little does exist is essentially just “Ne Zha is mad at Wukong over what the fuck ever, so they’re fighting” and little more. There’s a lot of potential for bonding over immortality and awful pasts or being commandeered by domineering authority figures, which I wish was used more often.

Personal Enjoyment: 2/10. I don’t see the dynamic, personally. Again, Ne Zha’s only interactions with him are only ever vitriolic or exasperated in nature, which doesn’t leave stable footing for a relationship to stand. Maybe I’ll make a chatbot for them one day and see if I come around to it.

“Freepeaches”

Name Rating: -5/10. This shit is exactly what I’m talking about with the lazily slapping “peach” onto whatever and going on. “Free” has no meaning between Wukong and Tang- it’s just a holdover from a more popular ship. Tang only mooches food from Pigsy. That’s one of the biggest elements of their dynamic. Sure, Tang likes free stuff (food, rides, physical labor), but when does he ever get that from Wukong? It just makes no sense.

AND IF IT HAD TO HAVE THE FRUIT, TANGYPEACHES WAS RIGHT THERE

Canon Rating: 6/10. Tang literally drew himself and the Monkey King together inside a heart. He adores Wukong, thought maybe not for who he truly is- and the two don’t any interaction in terms of Tang realizing his autistic parasocial special interest idol is a lonely old sage who misses his friends, which cripples what was a pretty cute dynamic. I think Tang coming down from his hero worship and being just a genuine friend to SWK would be cute, definitely.

Fanon Rating: 9/10. Pretty enjoyable! Freepeaches is one of the few dynamics where Sun Wukong isn’t constantly turned into a punching bag/villain to be beaten around for the amusement of the audience, and the two are often portrayed as legitimately healthy together- I especially enjoy how Tang is portrayed as needing to move past his hero worship for the two to have a healthy relationship. It’s cute.

Personal Enjoyment: 6/10. Never addressing the resemblance to Sanzang or having them interact in regards to this while the circlet is back on Wukong’s head feels like a massively missed opportunity, honestly. I think Sun Wukong’s personal feelings have been left to the wayside for far too long in canon, and getting to a point where almost every fucking character represses their feelings is lazy and boring.

Peachbuns

Name Rating: 4/10. Again. Just “peach” slapped onto an adjective or noun. It’s frustratingly boring. This one sounds delicious and both components are related to food at least, which fits Pigsy’s background… but it also sounds like something a horny dude would ask for pics of in your DMs.

Canon Rating: 1/10. Pigsy isn’t willing to take any of Wukong’s shit, so he serves as a pretty great “bullshit barrier” that provides a legitimately strict opposing force to Wukong, but there’s little else to even their relationship out. He’s never kind or supportive or worried- if the two interact, it’s always through the lens of “Pigsy is mad/suspicious”. There’s never any real bonding or growth between them at all.

Fanon Rating: 4/10. This ship barely exists, and when it does it’s Sun Wukong being lectured through life by a big strong man- not a dynamic I’m a fan of. However, it is surprisingly kind to Wukong in terms of empathizing with his struggles. Again, I wish there was less of “Pigsy teaches Wukong basic life skills” because it falls right back into the revolting fanon that is “SWK is a big dumb fuck who can’t read or cook or take care of himself without a husband to wipe his ass.”

Personal Enjoyment: 2/10. I just don’t click with it. Pigsy doesn’t like Wukong, doesn’t trust him, and doesn’t interact with him outside of that.

Moonstone

Name Rating: 10/10. This is what I like! Moonstone is not only a very real (and very beautiful) mineral, but it ties to both of them equally! You don’t see Wukong’s status as a stone-born demon be referenced often, so this is a refreshing change of pace from the constant “peach” names.

Canon Rating: 7/10. Chang’e is a lovely woman who is simultaneously not be willing put up with Sun Wukong’s bullshit while still legitimately respecting and admiring him. It makes for a nice duality in their relationship that most of his dynamics don’t provide.

Fanon Rating: 10/10. The working dynamic is so fucking good to start with that I’ve never once seen fanon drop the ball. Never. This ship is always so fucking sweet and honest with Chang’e calling out Wukong for his bullshit while never pushing it to the “Shit on Sun Wukong Show” levels that the fandom loves so much- she takes no shit, but does no harm. She’s supportive and acknowledges his traumas and fears. Wukong does his best for her. Moonstone shippers get an A+ and extra recess time.

Personal Enjoyment: 7/10. I just… I really like this one, dammit. There’s not a lot to go off of, but seeing fanworks that do not primarily treat SWK like living trash/baby the hell out of him is nice.

Lionpeach

Name Rating: 3/10. Again. Very boring and generic. I’ve seen Fuzzypeach which is a little cuter, at least. Still, it’s all the same “peach”+noun format.

Canon Rating: 3/10. The devotion Azure bears to Sun Wukong seems like it would bear a higher marking, but it’s shallow and flimsy. Azure never understood Wukong, never wanted what was best for him, never cared about his safety or happiness. Azure projects his beliefs and wants onto the people around him, blinding the big fella to shortcomings on their parts, and is delusional enough to never look inwards. Still, I can legitimately see

Fanon Rating: 0/10. It’s just smut. That’s it. When it isn’t it’s just “Ooooh! Azure is jealous of Macaque! Tee-hee, sorry Azure!” and that’s it. I’ve never actually seen any non-sexual, Azure-focused Lionpeach.

Personal Enjoyment: 5/10. It’s a fun enough dynamic to explore, especially with how unhealthy it is. I’ll probably make a bot of this too one day. Maybe a “yandere dads” type. Or a mutual Primal Moon bot.

Celestialchaos

Name Rating: 10/10. Another not peach-based name is a win in my book!

Canon Rating: 6/10. Xiangliu is civil enough to Wukong (about as much as everyone else), but the mention of them having once been friends is what got my attention. Shrouded past + + potential reincarnation shenanigans + decently civil behavior = a very happy writer. It’s so little but it makes my brain itch.

Fanon Rating: 0/10. It doesn’t even exist babes ;( I’m scrounging for water in the lonely plains of a desert y’all. I’m a lonely little cactus and Celestialchaos is my annual three-inch rain.

Personal Enjoyment: 10/10. C’mon now. You all were expecting this. I love this ship. I’ve already made four chatbots. I love Xiangliu as a wild little freak who desperately tries to push Wukong away from other people and sad lonely Wukong finding refuge in a freaky toxic snake. Especially I like the idea of Xiangliu pitting himself against Macaque and going after Sun Wukong just to cause a little trouble, only to actually catch feelings and start pursuing him in earnest. I like “I want you at your worst so I can prove that I still love you even then” Xiangliu and “You love me at all?” Wukong.

I really like this ship.

End Result

(Scores ranging from -40 to +40)

Shadowpeach= 1/40

(Past!Shadowpeach would around 20)

Lotuspeach= 7/40

Freepeaches= 16/40

Peachbuns= 11/40

Moonstone= 34/40

Lionpeach= 11/40

Celestialchaos= 26/40

[halfwayhearted]

Hi girl i love your work sm,

would you be able to do one with marc bernal and he’s really touchy with the reader and he’s just obsessed with her and has to be near her all the time

tysm xxx

For Lovers — Marc Bernal.

Pairing: Marc Bernal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Marc won’t leave you alone, you don’t really mind.

Word Count: 700+

Disclaimer/s — Just tooth-rotting fluff, uh. Freak yeah.

A/N: Thank you so much!!! I love you and I loved this request. BOOOOM SHAKALAKA. YES GAAAAWD. I’M SICK.

The night was going smoothly. You’d invited Marc over for a night in, something you two often liked to do. With him having to practice and travel, you would take whatever time with him you could get.

Lifting your head up and off his chest, you’re met with a disappointed groan. “What’s wrong now?”

“You’re moving. Why’re you moving?” He asked.

“You’re not bored?” Your tone was confused. All you guys were doing was watching movies. How was he not at all bored? “Let’s make some food?”

Food. Okay, he could eat. “Yeah, let’s do that.” And with that, he reluctantly releases his hold on you and moves to stand, his hands not wanting to be off you for long. When he helps you to your feet, his hand rests on the small of your back for whatever reason. This was your house; he didn’t necessarily need to guide you, well, anywhere.

Once you both enter your kitchen, you open your refrigerator and glance at whatever ingredients you spot first, hoping that the second you lay your eyes on something, a recommendation will pop into your mind. That’s what you always did.

Thankfully, it does! It’s simple, but it could work. “So! How does a quesadilla sound? Is that good?”

“Mhm,” Marc hums, his gaze trained on yours like he was following your every move. It makes you nervous. You know you should be used to it by now, although you don’t think you ever could be.

Taking out everything needed, you switch on the stove, your body turning to face him while you wait for it to heat up. “What’s next on our list? We could start a show and only watch it when we’re together. I have a bunch that we could start.”

The boy tilts his head. “Yeah? Tell me about them, then we can choose,” he says, leaning against the counter. Again with the eye contact. Oh… okay.

“Well—” you found yourself unable to even start under the intensity of his gaze, and you swallow. “Can you, uh, can you grab the cheese for me?”

He doesn’t answer you, but he follows through with your request. That’s when you start to speak. “Oh, wait! We can watch ‘Outer Banks’! Have you heard of it? About the treasure and all that?”

Yes, he has. You seem excited to talk about it, so he finds himself shaking his head no. Setting the cheese down next to the stove, he’s already by your side, his hand finding yours on the countertop, fingers drawing shapes. The first being a heart. Then, he flickers his gaze to yours, watching how you talk about how the show has been on your ‘must watch’ list for a year, you just never had the chance to go through with it.

“Marc? Are you even listening to me?” You laugh.

That’s when he blinks. How long have you been finished explaining? “Yeah. Yes. Let’s watch.”

“Perfect! Just give me, like, ten minutes. You can go sit down if you want. What drink would you want? Look in the fridge and let me know, ‘Kay?”

“I’ll wait. I can wait for you,” he shrugs. “Tell me more about the show. Or is that all you know?”

“That’s all I know. We can talk theories about it?”

The sound of his laugh is like music to your ears, tugging the corners of your lips into a soft smile. You don’t know why he’s laughing. “How can we talk theories if neither of us have watched it?”

Your eyebrows pull together at that, and suddenly you’re frowning. “Fine. Let’s talk predictions?”

“Let’s talk predictions. How about you start," Marc suggests. Of course, he’d want you to start. You just never really know why. Not that you were complaining or anything, though.

To him, it was just so he could hear your voice. Yes, he listened. He always listened. The fact that he could listen to you ramble on and on for probably hours and still be able to repeat and ask questions made you want to do nothing but tell him how deeply in love with him you were.

And he’d want nothing more than to do the same.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @sakashq ! ౨ৎ

[chimimon]

Your Words

Astarion x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive, like more so than I have previously written, I think… jealously, biting, and it ends pretty abruptly because I don’t plan on posting smut here, so sorry about that y’all. If I missed any tags let me know! Please! Like fr send an ask my way and let chi know!!

& what I have to say is… This game has me in a chokehold. Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a headlock. Like unimaginably so. I’m hyper fixated all over again but this time a stupid fruity vampire calls me beautiful and asks to bite my neck and I asjdjwwsjidkekwakksdnb :) oh, and trigger warning for Halsin mention. <- E.P.

No eyeful sufficed; it was not enough to simply imagine being intertwined when the sudden ache began a week or so ago while Astarion had been playing with a blade. It was one of those things he did often enough to be called routine, ordinary, or unsurprising. What did not happen as often or routinely was how keen your attention had been on such fixed activities. A dozen times over you had traced his veins, memorizing when they were most defined on his knuckles, his forearms and whether it led to the toss of his knife or not. Worse than that, his sleeves were rolled up and around the two-minute mark he noticed your hypnotic gaze. 

Curious, Astarion decided to see for just how long he could keep your attention as he made a show of stretching his fingers afterwards, adjusting his sleeves, rolling his wrists and shoulders before sitting onto the floor with his head in his hands to watch the fire from his tent. Only then did he turn his attention to you with a raised brow and all-knowing smirk. It was obvious you were unaware of your staring as you quickly turned away. 

But it felt as though every ten minutes you would find something new about him to gawk at, and Astarion read you all too well. In frozen observation you hardly blinked in between shallow breathes. The deeper into thought you dove, the more your shoulders sunk, and the more your shoulders sunk, so dropped your eyelids. 

The attention was reminiscent of your behavior at the Tiefling party. After he made his tipsy proposal, he carefully studied just how aware you were of the events to come in every interaction you had before the night ended. How restless you seemed when you lied coyly on your rolled bed. Or just how often you touched your face and neck as you met him in your shared hidden place. Astarion loved how clearly he took up your mind, how blatant it was. He reveled in your tunneled attention and patiently waited for you to give him the word, or a signal of sorts, feeling that it would be nice to have you initiate intimacy as he was secure in your thoughtfully lustful desire. 

But no move was made. 

Tonight, it seemed Gale had no issue making conversation with you from across the campfire as you two were loudly going over alchemy notes from a journal Astarion picked up just for you. You began to pull out leaves and branches from a pouch in your lap, holding them to fire for light as Gale leaned in studiously. It didn’t mean anything, Astarion was sure of it, but if he thought that if he was newly recruited or hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought you and Gale were a thing within this flame lit scene which burned into Astarion mind as he replayed the last six days. 

It was as though you were scared to be near Astarion, to get close to him, to talk to him, but with him alone. Watching him the way animals watch prey, but without any stalk in your stride, without a wiggle or means to pounce. Just heavy glances and light sighs. Karlach had snapped you out of this state a couple of times as it was in her nature to melt you into an easy, giggling mess. Wyll found something that reminded him of some grand adventure while walking a trail and you two seemed to bond over the found item, making Astarion snort. Shadowheart had also decided to warm up in your company and grew intent with whatever you had to say. The way she looked at you seemed far too soft and sticky for friendship and her demeanor buzzed inside of Astarion’s memory. 

But the straw that broke the camel's back was Halsin. Despite you currently seated across Astarion, now handing over some mugwort to Gale, he could no longer ignore having overheard Halsin’s request to keep you company, and how inconsiderately close he was to Astarion’s tent moments ago. By then Astarion was just waiting for you to stop by to talk about it, unsure and indifferent to whether you wanted his permission to canoodle with Halsin. But when you b-lined to the campfire, a suspicious creeping feeling pushed him onto his feet to be seated on the log in front of you. Since he became aware of your careful watch, he noticed how keenly you avoided him and began to wonder if you watched him the way rabbits watch dogs; to run. 

Gale would not stop talking, so Astarion took it upon himself to quietly appear beside him, peering over his shoulder with a tilted stare at you. When your eyes met and widened, Gale slowly, and unknowingly turned to Astarion before he could be cartoonishly and audibly spooked by the elven vampire's sudden appearance. Gale took it as a sign to leave and politely excused himself from your company. Those blood-soaked eyes followed Gale until he was hidden behind a couple bushes toward his tent. 

Astarion seemed to be squinting, his eyes moving from yours, down to your mouth, before landing on your lap. You scrunched your nose when his gaze returned and he rolled his eyes before letting out an annoyed, airy laugh. “My love, should I be concerned?” 

You were obviously uncomfortable with your lap sewn shut, and your posture too taut. “Concerned? About what?” Your brows furrowed before opening. Every muscle melted as you tilted your head, mirroring him. "I mean, I haven’t taken Halsin on any offer to play hunter and bear.” 

He leaned back, deepening his stare, annoyed at your stiff disposition when that stupid wizard got to have you malleable and full of conversation. 

You nervously smiled and averted your eyes. “You know I would ask if I ever wanted to-” 

“Would...” He interrupted. “Of course, you knew I overheard his little, steamy proposal. But that’s not why I’m hurt.” 

It was written all over your face that you were replaying the conversation with Halsin, trying to figure out where you may have gone wrong or if you sounded too open to the opportunity. Asatrion continued when you began to chew on your bottom lip. “Darling, you hardly look me in the eye anymore.” His chest deflated as he huffed out another whiny plume of air. “I mean, before I at least knew that you could talk to me about, well, all of this.” 

All of this swiftly caught your attention. 

“Astarion.” You calmly said, ignoring the ache you pressed between your thighs as you ran your hands over your lap. “What do you mean by ‘this’?” You could swear your heart was beating loud enough to let everyone in camp know that Astarion was the item of your mind consuming lechery. Gods, you could knead dough with how hard your palms pressed into your thighs in some feeble attempt to calm a carnal throb. 

“This.” He whined with his hands apart, referring to you two. “Don’t be coy. You’ve been keeping an awfully close eye on me, and more than that you’ve kept your distance.”  

“Oh.” You whispered, ripping away the steady eye contact. 

“Oh? What do you mean oh-?” 

“Astarion.” You stood up, awkwardly fidgeting your feet before you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes. “Astarion can I... I can, um.” 

Everything stiff and cold was interrupted with nervous stretching, like you were forcing yourself to warm up in his presence, and he was unsure if he should be bothered or relieved by it. 

With mean sarcasm he said, “Your words, darling." 

“Don’t- I mean.” You softly snapped, making him nervous. “Could we um… can we maybe speak somewhere private?” 

Astarion shrugged, lifted off the log before motioning that you lead the way. When the way led to his tent, he got anxious. To him the conversation could go a couple of ways. One of them being you were too nervous to ask to be with Halsin, and that despite him willing to grant his permission, given his current mood, it would be reluctant permission to say the least. The other way was that you were unsure how to tell Astarion you couldn’t do it anymore. It meaning to be with him, and for that he couldn’t blame you, at least not honestly. The fear of you abandoning him after one good night, in what felt forever ago, grew as you motioned him to sit across from you, both of you on your knees as he watched you struggle once again to look at him in the eye. 

He could practically hear it in your inhale, see it in your clenched fists over your knees, and in your eye contact as you finally faced him. 

In your mind, everything felt intimate, close, hot even. You could feel your fingernails dig into your palms and you were sure you’d bleed if you balled your fists further. “I’m not sure how to word this without...” 

He held in a vain breath, slowly nodding while you searched for the words. 

“This is so stupid.” You grimaced, bring a knuckle to your teeth. “Astarion can I just-” 

“You can see him.” He said with feigned relief. 

“Who?” Your hands relaxed. 

“Halsin.” 

“What? No, wait.” Your whole body melted as you tried so hard to read the man in front of you. “What the hells are you talking about?”  “You don’t have to be so embarrassed, I mean,” Astarion leaned back, sighing more dramatically as he had already come to terms with surrendering you over to him. “I mean who would I be to keep you-” 

“Stop.” You held out your hands, shaking them with the same vigor used to shake your head. “Good hells Astarion, no.” You laughed, finally feeling ready to be open about your needs. 

Astarion shot back up with a raised brow, tilting his head again as he drummed on his lap. “Okay, well now I really don’t know what you want to talk about.” 

The growing silence was easy to bear in the sight of your smile, shy and bashful, making him a little hopeful that this was going to be an easier conversation. 

“Great because I’m going to sound stupid.” You sheepishly smiled. 

“As if I just didn’t.” He sucked in his teeth. “Come on darling, spit it out.” 

“Not if you’re going to ask me to spit it out.” 

“My sweet.” The snap in his tone caused you to really look at his face, and he looked anxious. His brows were together and lifted, he may as well have been pouting but you were finally noticing it. “If it’s distance you want, I can provide.” He looked down past your head before his eyes trailed around his space. “I mean you don’t have to go as far as to fighting battles as far from me as humanly possible.” 

“Oh, good gods no.” You leaned down to catch his gaze once more. “Wait no that’s not what this is.” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” 

“I’m just feeling very…” you flicked your hands in the air like you were pushing away the anxiety. “I’ve been feeling rather needy lately.” 

“Needy?” 

“I don’t want to spell it out.” 

“I think I need you to.” 

“Damn it, Astarion.” It was clear he was going to quietly wait, as he was also sitting in front of your exit. “Needy, needy meaning… aroused... I’ve been very horny, lately.” With both hands on your face, you hunched over. “I’m sorry,” was muffled into your palms before your hands slid down to see his reaction. 

Astarion had a bashful but at ease smile on his face. He let out a sharp laugh until he finally really looked at you. You were gripping your thighs, your eyes dilated and round. The animal like stare and careful distance kind of made sense. “And I thought I scared you away, sweetheart.” 

“Quite the opposite.” You whispered, unable to maintain eye contact “So, if you’ll excuse me-” 

 Astarion hummed as he dropped in. His hands planted themselves on either side of your lap, his nose inches away from yours. “And if I won’t?” 

Paralyzed, you held your breath and could feel your resolve snapping. “Astarion, I just… I said… are you sure?” He coyly rolled his eyes, pretending to think about it. “I can be patient.” You breathed, leaning back before he quickly scooted in, catching your chin in his hand before you could retreat. 

“Oh, don’t go running away again. Not when I want you.” He was studying your eyes and lips. You seemed so lost in his tent. “Not when I need you.” 

“You’ve had me, and I promise I can wait.” You whispered. “Please don’t tease me.” The quiet begging pulled at his chest and his desire. 

Then Astarion smiled wickedly. “Don’t think I can’t smell the arousal from less than a foot in front of my nose.” Quickly he snatched your wrist. If your hand were a rabbit, and your wrist its neck, he nuzzled his cheek against its head, playfully biting the neck of the rabbit before you could try to pull away. “And I don’t care to tease pretty things like you,” poisonous desire spilled from his mouth as he asked, “But when you say needy, what exactly to you require of me?” 

Mindlessly you shook your head as you feebly fought to take your hand back. 

“Your words, darling.” 

“Astarion, please this is-” 

“Embarrassing?” He purred. 

You held your breath as he faced your palm, from the corner of he could feel the heat in your face emit on his as he sighed again. “This couldn’t be nearly as embarrassing as the competition I have, my love.” A shit eating grin plastered onto his face as confusion appeared on yours. “You know... when your hand gets more of affection than I do.” 

Humiliated and hot. You were completely humiliated and hot as he waited for you to respond. 

“I mean your I’m sure your fingers can only do so much for so long in my place.” 

Past embarrassment you felt it necessary to say “Astarion, you know that I need you beyond anything you can do for me.” 

“So, you have been touching yourself, naughty girl,” he kissed your middle and ring finger without breaking eye contact. 

“I- Astarion I wouldn’t have,” you balled up your hand in which his thumb smoothed it open again. With little force you pushed forward to cup his face with him still latched in your wrist. “I just- gods I just worry you wouldn’t say no if you didn’t want to just because I’m asking.” 

“I do say no, & I have.” His hold loosened as he pulled back, taking in the soft concern on your face before the thought of that hand between your thighs flashed in his mind. Astarion’s eyes lids dropped, your kind concern caused him to be hard with arousal while his ruby eyes glistened. “Must I worry you won’t ask even if I’ll honestly say yes?” 

Your bottom lip was white between your teeth, so he reached out to hold your jaw, his fingers pressing in as you went doe-eyed and dazed. He was so close to your lips, so he whispered on your mouth. “Go on, my sweetheart. Ask.” 

“Astarion…” his breath tickled your bottom lip as your stomach dropped. 

“Yes, darling?”  

“Please…” you voice trailed off as the humiliation of it all set in. 

“Please what?” Astarion lifted you up as he lifted on his knees, looming over you as he brushed your hair behind one ear with his free hand. “I don’t think I know what want.” 

With all the excitement this brought, you quietly asked. “I want you to please kiss me. Please kiss me, Astarion.” And without a second lost, he pulled you into his hungry kiss, cupping your face with both hands as he pushed into you. 

© 2024 chimimon

[spidrgirl]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅

RANDOM MILES MORALES HEADCANONS:

Masterlist: here ➼

Pairing: Miles Morales x fem friend he has a crush on! ᥫ᭡

Synopsis: headcanons of Miles and a girl he's friends with, but also has a teeny tiny crush on.

Genre: fluff/friends to lovers (lol, can you tell that this is my fav trope 😜?)

Word count: idk

Authors note: I made these headcanons with a fem! Reader in mind, but I think most of these are gender neutral.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅

➳ Miles texts you throughout the day, even about the smallest details, needing to feel connected even when you're apart. When you don’t respond immediately, he starts second-guessing himself, checking his messages over to see if he said something wrong, worrying you might be upset with him.

➳ Every time you two part, he lingers, hands fidgeting or glancing back at you with a soft look. Sometimes, he even comes up with the smallest excuses—"I forgot to tell you something" or "Do you need help carrying anything?"—just so he can stay a little longer.

➳ Physical touch is everything to him. Even the lightest brush of your hand is enough to set his heart racing. He quietly aches for you to touch him more, but he's too nervous to ask, scared of seeming too needy or crossing a line.

➳ No matter what he's doing, if you call or text, Miles immediately stops and responds. He could be in the middle of training or just trying to relax, but your messages are his priority. You can't help but remember that one time when he was texting you back while mid-mission, and it just proves how much he needs to feel close to you.

➳ After a late-night patrol, he often lies awake, replaying the last time you were together in his mind. He wishes he could talk to you, even if it’s just in comfortable silence. Sometimes he even imagines what it’d be like if you were there, lying next to him, sharing everything he’s been holding inside.

➳ Sitting in silence next to you on lazy afternoons is one of his favorite things. He’s content just being near you, but the urge to confess his feelings bubbles up more strongly in these quiet moments. He bites his tongue, afraid that telling you might change what you have.

➳ When you’re talking, he holds your gaze, completely captivated. Even in casual conversation, the way you look at him grounds him. It’s like he's the only one you’re seeing in that moment, and he feels an overwhelming warmth from it.

➳ Miles checks in with you constantly. Even if it’s a small “you good?” or “need anything?” he wants to know you're okay and feels a sense of purpose in being there for you.

➳ He loves catching subtle traces of your scent on his clothes after you've been together—it makes him feel closer to you when you're not around, like he's carrying a part of you with him.

➳ If you’re watching a movie or sitting together, he’ll lean in closer than necessary, just to be in your space. There’s a comfort he finds in those moments that he can’t quite put into words.

➳ Miles remembers even the smallest kind words you say to him, and they replay in his mind like a cherished memory. When he's feeling low, he holds onto those words, letting them remind him of his worth in your eyes.

➳ Every accidental touch—your hand brushing his, your shoulder against his—he holds onto them, wishing they’d last just a little longer. Sometimes, he leaves his hand where it is, silently hoping you'll reach out again.

➳ As much as he admires your strength and independence, there's a part of him that yearns for you to need him, even if just a little. It’s not that he wants to change you, but being the one you rely on, even briefly, fills him with a quiet pride.

➳ He's always seeking your validation, not only because he values your opinion, but because your approval brings him a sense of security. He might even agree with things he doesn’t totally believe in, just to feel more connected to you.

➳ Even though he tries to play it cool when you call or text, his heart races. He'll act casual, but deep down, your attention is everything to him.

➳ Sitting close to you feels like it's never enough. He wants more time with you, more connection, but he’s scared of coming on too strong and pushing you away.

➳ He loves those rare, late-night conversations that go on until the early hours. When they end, he’s left with a quiet longing, wishing he could hold onto those moments forever.

➳ Sometimes, without realizing it, Miles can be a little overbearing in his need to help you. He’ll offer to carry your things, walk you home, or do tasks you didn’t ask for, just to feel useful to you.

➳ His biggest fear is that one day you’ll move on, and he’ll just be a memory in your life. It’s a thought that keeps him awake some nights, silently hoping he’ll always have a place in your world.

➳ If he senses you’re upset or distant, he tries even harder to be there for you, even if it’s just in small ways, like sending a meme or giving you a small gift. He wants to remind you that he's still around.

➳ Miles asks you questions about your day, your thoughts, your feelings—he just wants to know you better and to feel closer to you.

➳ Arguments or disagreements with you make him uneasy. He’ll often apologize first, even when he’s unsure of what he did wrong, just to make sure things are okay between you.

➳ If he notices you’re upset, he goes into “protector” mode, wanting to fix the situation and be the one to make things better, even if it’s beyond his control.

➳ If a day goes by without seeing you, he’ll often send you a random meme or a quick message, just to re-establish contact and let you know he’s thinking about you.

➳ He subtly frames conversations in ways that might lead to you complimenting him or showing him affection. He craves your reassurance but tries not to make it too obvious.

➳ When you’re together, he unconsciously leans into your space—his knee brushing yours, his arm near you. He might not ask for more, but his body language shows just how much he wants you close.

➳ If you start talking about someone else, especially another guy, he’ll find a way to steer the conversation back to the two of you, needing your attention on him, if only for a moment.

➳ There are times he feels so vulnerable around you that he wants to confess everything, but he holds back, afraid of losing what you already have. Instead, he stays quiet, holding onto those feelings in silence.

[solplease]

i've been very excited to post this but here are my ocs haha!! meet lune, cecilia, nox, and aster!

close ups, more info, and a more detailed relationship chart under the cut! this is gonna be a long post haha. there's also some more info about rowan!

cecilia's twin (he's the older twin) ((by two minutes. lol))

the type to go “here to here, i’ll buy it all”

he's got a temper

possessive, devoted, and jealous yandere

people think he's a tad bit insane (and he's self aware mostly,,)

gets into fights often

“want me to kill that guy for you?” (he’s serious btw)

he’s not nice lmao, but to you he is (in his own special way of course..!)

kind of like a cat who will proudly leave dead rats and leaves on your doorstep as a gift bc it thinks you can’t hunt for yourself

hates nox LMFAO

difficult to approach at first but once you get close he won’t ever let you go.

extroverted

LOUD. someone shut him up, this mf does NOT stop yapping bro

annoying as hell and he doesn’t know that lmao

if he absolutely has to, he’ll behave. but it's... odd

constantly needs to be doing something or he’ll get bored lol

has a bit of a sweet tooth (typical)

Bastard (not literally)

played the piano when he was younger with his sister, but he hated playing it

bad terms with his family except for cecilia

huge rebellious streak

shockingly will not kidnap you! everyone already knows you’re his, and he’s yours. and he won’t let anyone get in between you two. yay..!

hates it when you don’t pay attention to him (will absolutely start sulking too)

he’s impulsive but he’s not completely reckless

you probs shouldn’t trust him too much though he has good (????) intentions lol

seems silly (debatable really) but he’s dangerous.

half of the things he says sound like jokes but trust me, he means it. he’d do anything and everything for you, don’t forget!

shockingly pouty and whiny, only in front of you though

him and cecilia have matching bracelets from when they were younger which they both wear to this day

he’s oblivious as fuck, and an idiot

lune's twin (she's younger)

normal (somewhat) ((not really))

sweet and friendly

really likes giving gifts to people she cares about

jumps to conclusion and freaks out easily, but she’s subtle about it

constantly stressed (lune is her brother, so… i get it)

introverted (runs on a social battery)

says things without thinking sometimes

people pleaser

awkward as hell tbh, but it’s really not obvious because she’s good at putting on a front 

kinda has the ”””””princely””””” persona (i didnt know how to describe that better lmao

has abandonment issues

girlfail tbh

hardworking

shes really protective of her loved ones

likes cute things

has issues with her family but still talks to them (lune does NOT)

on really good terms with lune, they’re very close (even though he’s a huge troublemaker that stresses the shit out of her) ((if he fucks around too much she’ll give him a good smack))

packs a good punch

SENSITIVE…

potential yandere? still not too sure if i’ll make her a fully fledged yan but she def has some of the traits lol

her and lune have matching bracelets from when they were younger! (she wears it everyday!)

she doesn’t mean to put on a front it just kinda happens automatically lmao

could kill someone... probably wouldnt tho

used to play the piano with lune, she still plays it now too (as a hobby)

cunning and annoying

def the type to kidnap you

oddly sweet (???)

but also ominous as hell

docile with the one he loves

isolating and manipulative yandere

dislikes lune

nice but you can tell he’s putting up a wall (with strangers and friends)

introverted

wouldn’t put stalking past him tbh

he’s the type that wants to know everything about you.

he has a tough time interacting with others. he feels awkward in social situations

the type to go to a party and spend the whole time petting the cat in the corner (he would not go to the party in the first place tho lmao)

he’s not misunderstood tho, he just can’t socialize and doesn’t really want to

grabs the end of your shirt in an awkward situation (its kinda cute)

takes time to open up, but when he falls for you, his love is so strong, it’s almost overwhelming. so just accept him, alright?

shittiest sleep schedule known to man, like srsly, what is bro doing

this man’s brain probs short circuits every 5 minutes LMFAO go to bed you idiot

really good with his words, very convincing

loves cats

hidden piercings

careful and patient

is really good at taking care of others (but he would only wanna take care of you) you’ll let him, won’t you?

startles easily lol

elf oc

ditzy and kind (to you)

bit of a mean streak (not to you!) 

wants to appear princely in front of you

kinda stupid (a farce but not completely lol)

has a bit of a temper, but nothing too bad

clingy and cunning yandere

two faced

struggles with empathy (he tries, he’s not human, what’s he supposed to do!)

extroverted (?)

he’s really lonely

when he met you for the first time he was absolutely fascinated as he’s never interacted with a human being before!

BLUNT. he’s not used to convos… just give him some time!

at first it was simple curiosity, but that curiosity turned into something… deeper

he was completely alone before this, but now you’re here, and you’re going to stay, right? 

is obsessed with the idea of you staying here with him forever, so why do you keep talking about going home? can’t you stay here? 

but then you bring up the idea of him coming with you, well why didn’t you say that earlier! he's happy to come with you

It takes him some time to grasp certain concepts so please be patient with him, he’s not used to humans

he’s paranoid and hostile to other humans. it’s not fair, he wants all of your attention, so why is everyone trying to take you from him? he doesn’t like that everyone is getting in his way… 

he’s terrified of bugs. will scream incredibly loudly if he sees one lol

he pulled you through a mirror, that’s how you ended up in his land

so if you wanna go back, just ask and he’ll take you! 

gives you jewelry, expensive jewelry. (maybe he’s slipped on a ring before. haha. jk… unless..?)

prefers to stay inside your place because he really doesn’t like people who aren’t you lmao

don’t stray too far from him, okay? he’s always waiting for you

rowan (who i don't have a new drawing of rn </3 sorry!):

he absolutely hates not being a priority, so please don’t ignore him. please? he just wants you to love him.

clingy, devoted, and obsessive yandere

if you don’t reciprocate he might (unknowingly) try to guilt you into liking him back. will appear like a kicked puppy to really sell it (but it’s not an act lol he’s just like this)

at least his intentions are pure! (?????????) but is that better..?

if when (it will happen) you two end up together, he’ll give you the world if you’d asked for it

used to cut his own hair! :D (not great at it tho tbh)

very attentive and will work hard to keep you happy! just don’t forget that you’ll love only each other for the rest of your life. please don’t leave.

has tripped over nothing, will definitely happen again

here's the shitty relationship chart that i rushed </3 its very ugly im sorry HAHA

i really want to clarify that NONE of them will ever hurt you physically on purpose (they might have to pay up for emotional damages tho. they have your best interest in mind ig)

also i would say that they all share some traits like being clingy, devoted, possessive, obsessive, jealous, protective, and loyal. but if i specifically wrote it, it's probs just a bit more intense... just a bit,,, haha...

[frodopotter7]

The memories of Edwin Payne

(Or an interactive fanfiction)

Note: I had the headcanon that Edwin‘s notebook contains all his personal writing including the writings from his life as an Edwardian boy. So I wrote those entries in his notebook. Now this book is obviously all of Edwin‘s personal thoughts and I thought it would be fun to do a collaboration. So if you are a writer yourself or creative in any other way, feel free to use this entries as a starting point for another fanfiction. For example Charles finding the notebook and reading it or Crystal reading it or anything else. The only rule that I set is that you clearly mark my text and tag me, because first of all it was a lot of effort to write it and secondly I want to see what cool things you came up with. And if you don’t want to creatively interact with this fanfiction, then you can obviously just enjoy it by reading it.

Summary: Edwin Payne‘s most treasured item is his notebook, because it contains so much private information that no one else knows about him. Not even Charles. Including the struggles of a posh, gay, autistic Edwardian boy and his times before hell, in hell and shortly after hell.

Triggers: bullying, implied suicide, dolls

Shipping: Payneland, but you could also include other shipping in your part

The song that I thought of while writing:

One of Edwin’s most treasured objects was definitely his notebook. He had it all the time and he used it for every case they had. It meant a lot to him, since it was with him when he died. It was with him in hell and it was with him in his detective career. The reason why he never gave it to anyone, not even Charles, was that it had been with him even as a child. Well, back then he had several notebooks, but as he died every personal writing of his got transferred into it. The notebook always had enough pages and was still not getting thicker and his pen was always full of ink. And still even though it contained so many different notes, Edwin navigated through it without any problems. It was his own writing after all. His family sigil was carved into the black front cover and the word ‘Payne’ was written underneath it.

If anyone would open it and tried to start from the beginning, he would be greeted with Edwin’s signature under the printed words. ‘Family member:’ After that the handwriting would be harder to read. Scribbly, crossed out spelling mistakes and spilled ink from a little boy, who was writing for the first time. If you manage to identify the words it would read:

1905

Greetings,

my name is Edwin Payne. I am the only child of the family Payne. My father says, that mother wanted more children, but just failed every other time. You probably have heard about my family’s name. The family with the best lawyers of England. When I’m grown up, I will be a lawyer too. Lawyers are like detectives says my father. I like that. I like detectives.

My nanny told me to interact more with others. Why would I need to talk if there is no one to talk to anyways? My parents are often absent and my nanny is just not understanding me. My father says that I am too slow for my age. My motion skills too clumsy. My spoken words only contain information from detective books and I cannot properly respond to people yet. I know a lot of novels by heart though. Others just don’t seem to like talking about crimes as much as I do. Father sometimes lets me have a look in his older cases. They are interesting.

We visited a doctor again today, because of my slow development. We visit him quite often. Actually since I can remember. I don’t feel sick. He says there is nothing wrong with me. Still I know that something is wrong. I overreacted at loud noises. A lot of things stress me out.

1906

I haven’t writing about Cordelia Primrose Surname-von-Hovercraft. She is annoying, loud and a restless soul. She runs around the house and breaks rules just to get the attention. She is a bit younger than me, but that doesn’t justify her actions. I don’t like her. Although sometimes she be helpful. Like the time she stole the biscuit jar and gave me one of the special biscuits. They had to expel one of her nannies for this. But Cordelia had plenty nannies anyways. No one stays long with her. I had my nanny since I was born. I don’t like changes. Cordelia sometimes scares me with ghost stories. She says she would see them and that my fortune says that I will die a painful and early death. I don’t believe in this unscientific nonsense.

I take piano lessons now. It’s is fun. My mother seems to enjoy it. It is somehow the only way to get her attention for me.

Additionally to my regular private lessons I go to school now. Simon obviously needs to be in my class as well. I don’t like him. He bores me and he is too clingy. And sometimes he says mean things to me.

I had an outburst in class. Everything was just so loud and I was frustrated. The teacher hit my finger with the ruler and send me in the naughty corner. I don’t see why I get punished, when the other boys are clearly the distraction. Overall I am a good student. So it will probably not affect my grades.

My favorite subject is Latin and literature. I love books and translating old languages. It is like solving a code or a riddle. I don’t like maths, since it is all just numbers and no words.

1907

I had another outburst in class after Simon tried to touch me. He kept tapping my arm and I don’t like that. The teacher called a nurse, but I was too overwhelmed to respond to any of her questions to my health. I wanted to go home and I told her that again and again, but she didn’t understand. They called a priest. He said something in Latin. I think, it must have been biblical words. I tried to focus on translating them, but there was so much panic around me that I barely focused on anything. But I managed to calm myself after what felt like hours due to exhaustion.

My parents had a talk with the priest. He says that I am possessed by a demon. So now he straps me to a table and mumbled something in Latin again and again once a month or whatever I have an outburst. The robes around my wrist hurt. I am afraid. It is scary to know that there is something inside of me.

1908

I hate being possessed. Although I start to doubt that I have been in the first place. I did some research in the library and the real demonology books aren’t describing my symptoms. Even Cordelia, who usually always tells spooky stories, agrees with me. She said, if I was possessed she would have been the first one to know. She is a mystery to me.

1909

Today I saw a nice looking man across the street. I told my nanny that he looks like a basket full of oranges. My father uses that term a lot when he talks about young women, so I thought it is just a term to use if you think someone looks nice. She gasped and hit me lightly with the newspaper. It didn’t hurt but I didn’t understand what I was doing wrong. She told me that a man cannot say that to another man. I guess the saying is reserved for women then.

1910

I started to mask my uncomfortable feelings in public. It is difficult, but it helps. My parents and the priest both think that I am healed.

1911

I got called a Mary Ann for the first time. I asked my nanny and she started to mumble to herself how she must have failed. I told her that she did a really great job, since I would consider myself very well behaved and educated. She ignored me and told me to not tell my parents. How should I tell them if they are never there in the first place?

I did some research again, which mainly was asking Simon. I know, getting down on his level is a hard sacrifice. He told me that a Mary Ann is a boy who behaves like a girl and isn’t manly enough so they love other men. I thought about that for a long time. What is it about me that makes me a Mary Ann?

The writing in the book started to get better and appeared way more elegant. You could find little drawings here and there. Edwin was quite a good and realistic artist. Drawings of flowers, buildings, his nanny, his mother or Sherlock Holmes.

1912

Mother is constantly coughing loudly. It is irritating. Not even cocaine will help. They don’t let me in her room. They fear I would catch it too. Not that I was ever close to her before.

Mother is in a special hospital now. She took the train far away in a hospital in the mountains. No one ever returns from there. I know it. Everyone does. I will not see her again.

Mother died of tuberculosis. I miss her, I guess. I don’t know what I miss. It is a change. I hate changes.

1913

Father is sending me to a boarding school for boys. He says it’s for my education. I know, he just wants to get ride of me.

I hate the new school. Simon is here and people are still calling me a Mary Ann. Simon started to join them. I guess he sees it as a new opportunity to mock me.

I take fencing lessons now. It is nice, since it is not required any sort of touch with other boys. Nothing that I can be blamed for.

1914

I found a hideout in the school attic. It is a great place to read in peace.

The world has started a war. It worries me. They tell us that we are save in the school. But in the end all you can do is pray.

I came back home on Christmas. My nanny was gone. Father said they would be no need for her any longer, since I am in school now anyway. He looked like he knew something, but wasn’t going to tell me.

1915

The next page had some blood drops on its pages.

I want to go home. I want to be back in my room with my detective books. I want to be healed from this darkness inside of me. My nose is bleeding from another attack by the other boys. They started to get more violent now. Simon isn’t joining them, but he watches.

I came home on Christmas, but it wasn’t my home anymore. Just a house. My father didn’t speak a word. I asked him, if it was about the war and he looked up towards me. I could feel his cold gaze from across the table. He took out a letter and slammed it on the table. It was from my headteacher. I was confused. I am class best and the best behaved student in class? The only reason why I get to stand in the naughty corner is if I got caught reading in my comics or books. In my defense I am usually already finished with the exercises if I read in class. What could possibly be a problem with me? The letter was about the other boys calling me Mary Ann. And that they didn’t wanted a boy like that in their school. That I should stop whatever was wrong with me. My father told me in his absent voice, that he was not having a son like that either. He had exchanged letters with the headmaster for quite some time now and I didn’t seem to get better. I asked him that I had no idea. He interrupted me as always. Told me that the only way to make me a man would be to send me to war. I started to cry and he continued holding a speech about heroism and that his generation had understood this so much better than mine. I am too young for war, he knows that too. He told me that the only thing rescuing my life is my good grades. He sees potential in me as a lawyer. He has talked to the Surnames-von-Hovercrafts they agreed that I should marry their daughter as soon as possible. I mean I knew that I would be married to Cordelia one day, but not already when I turn 16. That’s only some months away.

As the train brought me back to the boarding school and as I saw my father standing in the doorway of the house with his usual expressionless face, I knew that this was the last time I would see him and that he wished to rather have no son than me. I just knew it.

1916

Simon stole my hat. I wouldn’t mention this minor form of his bullying, if it hadn’t been a special hat. My mother and I bought it, when her disease hadn’t been noticeable. It was too large back then, but it suits me now. Or rather suited. I don’t think I will see it again as Simon comes up with the best ways to either destroy or hide it. I cried about it. Childhood is over, but honestly I don’t think it ever started in the first place at least not for me.

The numbness is spreading inside my body. I think about the military and the forced marriage daily. I am too young for this. I cannot even properly cope in a classroom. How am I supposed to cope in the war? My hands are to soft. My brain is too precious. Please, spear me. They won’t. It is just a question of time.

I went to the lake today. It is spring and still fairly cold, but I went inside non the less. It was cold. Ice cold. I went under water and yelled out some poetic nonsense. I thought about staying under water. Turning into Ophelia. But I reminded myself, that this is something a coward would do. A Mary Ann. I would proof everyone’s suspicions as correct. Scared to live. Scared to die. I got out of the water. My gaze landed on my clothes and the letter. My father had written me that the marriage would be held in some days, since I am 16 now. I ripped the paper in half and tossed it into the ocean. Letting the water destroy the writing on the paper. Of course this would make nothing undone. I would still need to marry. I would still need to go into the military. I would still need to die. I am frightened. The other boys seem unbothered. They laugh and play like the world isn’t ending around us. Well, their world is probably not ending anyways. They will live. Their parents are rich after all. They have the privilege. I would have had this privilege as well, but they took it from me by putting this name on me. I took it from myself with my impure thoughts.

Cordelia sent me a telegram that just read that I would need to be careful as death was approaching me in the worst way. I hate her for that. As if I wouldn’t know that. As if I wouldn’t know that I needed to go into the army soon. Not a single word about our forced wedding. I thought we had always agreed to both be against it. But then again she isn’t even trying to love me. Not that I would try. Not anymore. I tried when I was younger, because I was told to. But Cordelia has just no idea how to react appropriately to a gentleman. Her behavior makes it hard to believe that she is from such a high rank.

I saw Simon with a weird book today. He told me it is from his brother and that it is about demons. I told him that this was total nonsense and that he should get a grip on reality. He didn’t spoke to me again after that. Weird for someone who is as annoying as him. I am going to put my notebook in the pocket of my sleeping clothes tonight just to make sure Simon cannot steal it. I have a bad feeling in my stomach. My heart is aching for absolutely no reasons. I am afraid as I try to sleep tonight and the worst thing is that it is irrational. I am going to die alone, this is all my head produces right now.

?

Now every page was covered with blood at the side of the pages and sometimes even on the writing itself. There were no drawings to be found anymore. Just drawings for the escape plan and hierarchy of hell.

I don’t know if my dates are correct. I don’t know how time works in here. I don’t even know how long I am able to write without this thing waking up. This thing with the many doll heads. This spider like creature that kills me every time I move or make a sound. I sometimes wonder what happened to the other boys.

I try to change my perspective. It is hard when you are in so much pain. My brain learned to be sharper now. I can think and act quicker. I need to see this as one of my old detective games or as the times that I had to run away from my bullies. Everything is achievable with logic. Although I would say after being in hell for such a long time that might be a delusional optimism.

1988

I think I made it out fairly well. I am still uncontrollably shaky when I hear any noises. I fear that this demon might comeback to get me. I am back in the old school attic where they strapped me down on the table and sacrificed me. I learned a lot from hell and from the books in the attic. Like the basic ghost rules or that my death and the death of my bullies were labeled an act of god. I compared hell to the war a lot. After all I would say that hell was definitely the worse death. Much longer torture than war would have been. In the war you die just one death after all. But maybe a Mary Ann like me would have ended up there anyway.

I finally was brave enough to get out of the attic. I figured out that the year is 1988 from a newspaper that one of the teachers was reading. 72 years of torture. I wonder how often I was torn apart in this time. But I shouldn’t think about that. That reminds me of the pain and of the times when I tried to count my own corpses. The school hasn’t changed a lot. The teachers are less violent, but still rather strict. They have more lower class people here now. I can see it by the ways they behave and by the clothes they wear. That is especially confusing for me. So rude, so explicit, so freely. It is not a boarding school anymore. Luckily that gives me the freedom to have my peace after dark.

I started to watch a specific boy. I am not a stalker. At least I wouldn’t use this therm for a ghost. He is just interesting for my scientific research about this time. The boy has a darker skin. Some children in this school have this skin and get picked on, but somehow he isn’t the one who gets pick on. He wears very interesting clothes. Especially the golden earring. Something I would just see a woman wear, but it fits him so much better than it could ever fit a woman. His clothing is mostly black, though I would say that the red shirt he once worn fits him best. His lips have always a smile on them and he cracks loud jokes. But I see the sadness in his eyes. I recognize my own sadness in his eyes. His name is Charles Rowland. I heard the teacher yell it at him. A little trouble maker in class. He seems to never be able to focus. Maybe he is also possessed like I was when I was a young boy. But after experiencing hell, I doubt that the priest back then had any idea what a demon was really like.

The following page is filled with a very realistic drawing of Charles, who is smiling so iconically and his eyes seem to be filled with emptiness and some smaller doodles of Charles playing Cricket or talking to others.

Charles Rowland. His name repeats itself in my brain. I am not obsessive. He is just the best way of distraction I can find in this school. Distraction from the fear of hell. The fear of death coming back for me. Analysis and observation keep me away from those horrible thoughts. I have less panicle outbursts since I started my observation of this boy. Although when I am alone at night in the school attic I often start to cry in silence and my breathing races again.

Charlie. That is what his friends call him. It doesn’t suit him. Charles is his name. Not Charlie. I don’t like his friends. They are rude. They remind me of the boys in my old life. I wonder why I like Charles then. Maybe because he points out obvious misbehavior of the group even if they mock him.

The most interesting time is when Charles thinks that he is alone. That is mostly in the dressing room, when he gets ready for Cricket. As a short notion he is a fabulous cricket player, but he always waits till the other boys have changed and are out of the room. He pretends to struggle with his shoes or shorts. Even if that sometimes means that it is getting really dark outside. His smiles fades completely then. I saw the scars on his body. I feel bad for even looking at him in that state. Seeing a boy my age without a shirt is clearly inappropriate and it triggers the Mary Ann inside of me, but sometimes my detective senses is taking over too much. Especially after I saw all the scars and bruises. You don’t need to be that clever to understand that his family probably his father beats him. Although beating may be a too mild verb for those scars. I appreciate the absence of my father when I see him. My father and teachers used to beat me as well. With a ruler or the flat hand though not as much as my classmates. And after being through hell, that all seems like nothing in comparison. But even in my time no father would have mistreated their sons like that. I speak from a higher class, maybe it had been different in the lower class, but they were happy if their sons made it through childhood without a disease or scars so they could work properly. Although maybe they did this with the child workers. Is Charles secretly a child worker? Is there still child labour? Why would someone bruise their son like that if their son could provide a great income for the family? Or how many things was Charles doing something seriously wrong?

1989

His friends talked about me last night. They had cricket practice until the sun had settled and on the way back home I heard them talking about a school ghost. The janitor must have heard my weeping last night. My hysteria yesterday was indeed a lot. Too much to handle for myself. I think I was shaking till dawn. This vivid fear must have crossed over into the living world. They told Charles, that this had scared the janitor and he quitted. Then they told him of Mary Ann who was sacrificed 1916 and killed all the boys that night. Charles questioned this logically, since it was an all boys school, so there probably was never a girl. I certainly appreciate his thinking, but this just triggered a lot in me. Being called a Mary Ann even after all this years. Being remembered only as a Mary Ann. Being blamed as the murderer. Those boys clearly had no idea of what the term Mary Ann actually meant, but it just triggered me so badly that I started to panic again. My panic must have bursted through the worlds again, because the boys suddenly turned white and ran home. Charles stayed a little longer. Looking in my direction. I know he couldn’t see me, but maybe he could sense my panic more than the other boys could. Again we are much a like if you observe closely. After this strange second of him just starting into nothing and me starting back, he ran away as well.

I need to leave this place. But I am too scared. Too scared of the outside world. Too scared of the changes.

I wanted to leave today, be brave enough. But I heard Charles ‘friends’ talking bad about him behind his back. How weird he behaved. They had no idea about his scars. Then again if I would be his friend, which is rather unlikely, I wouldn’t confront him. I know how horrible I panic if someone says the word Mary Ann, I imagine that it is a similar situation for him with his scars. I stayed. I don’t know why. Again irrational fears.

I wish I would have left. I saw Charles defending a boy who got bullied by his so called friends. I felt tears in my eyes, because this was the kind of protection I had wished for when I was alive. I definitely feel too many emotions at the moment or maybe it just feels like more emotions because I was mostly numb in hell. The younger boy could escape with only a few bruises, but his friends still were in this blood lust. In this moment of still wanting the fun even though there was nothing funny about the action in the first place. I have seen those faces before. The faces of murders who only realize their actions when it is too late. They stoned him in the cold water. The water of the lake in which I once thought about killing myself a long time ago. I wanted to help. I wanted to stop them, but I had no idea what I could do. I am too new in this ghostly body. I tried desperately, but I ended up only pausing them by holding them back for a short time. It gave Charles time to ran away to the school building. He hid in the attic. I wanted to help him. The least I could do was by giving him a light. He was in a state where a floating light probably was his least problem. It turned out that he could see me and that was the moment I knew it was too late for him anyway. It was a strange sensation to properly speak again. I had never spoken in hell and in my ghost form I had only weeped. Hearing my own voice was odd. I was shortly surprised that I still knew how to use my voice. Reading to him from one of my old comics in the attic calmed him and gave me the opportunity to adapt a bit to talking for a longer period of time. He stayed with me, which honestly stresses me out a lot. I am not made to be a friend. I have been isolated for too long to be a good friend. I have been in hell for so long that I am probably a horrible person myself. I haven’t talked in so long. I am just adapting to just have conversations, how should I teach him to be a ghost, if I haven’t figured it out myself? Even if that all would not be the case and even if we would not be from different times, still I never have been good with other people. I never had friends. The only person a bit close to me was Cordelia and she was always more a sister for me. And still he chooses a stranger his own afterlife. From my observations I would blame his intentional behavior. He sees something and does something without thinking long. Although this decision might be too big for only this explanation.

I really can’t understand why Charles is choosing me over his afterlife. I just read to him once and gave him a lantern. He barely knows me and now he follows me everywhere. I showed him some ghost tricks and somehow I can really impress him by everything I say or do. But he made me smile for the first time in my life. So I am impressed by him as well. Whenever I read in this book, I just tell him that I like to keep record of things. That I would plan were we can go next as we no longer can stay in the school and waking around without plan is never good for too long. It is partly a lie I really am making a plan. But I do this in my head rather than writing it down, but it is an excuse for not letting him see my private writing. I tell him that it is rather boring planning and he believes me. I feel bad for lying to him, but if he would know about my past he surely would leave me and I would be all alone again.

We mirror traveled together to London. Charles felt a bit sick after it. He seems to still need to adapt to his ghost body. I was a bit overwhelmed with his sudden mood shift. I have been too selfish all my life and in my death so much that I don’t know how to help. He didn’t notice or he just didn’t say anything. But we had to mirror travel, it was too dangerous in the school after Charles died. Besides Charles is a talented and athletic boy, he will get the grip of it. In addition death could have caught me in the attic. I didn’t tell him why I am on the run. Not yet. I fear that once I tell him that I was in hell, he will think I am evil. Maybe that is true. Maybe I am just doomed. I feel like it was my fault that he died. I watched him so long with this incorrect feelings of mine. Maybe this cursed him like in a Greek tragedy. For now I just want to make sure that Charles is not alone. I had been alone for too long to know how dreadful it can get and he is much more social than I am.

We visited his family in London. A real rural area. His mother was crying over the loss of her son. His father just seemed to see it as a natural thing to happen to those who aren’t careful enough. I made a mental note to haunt this man every year to Charles’ death day without telling Charles. The school, once again, swept the problem under the carpet and made it appear like an accident. How can someone possibly stone himself while being in the water and then run in an attic? No clever detective would see that as the solution. I said that out loud and it turned out that Charles and I both share a passion for detective stories. That was something to make him smile. But he started to cry again as he saw how desperate his mother and sister were. He hugged me, which was a lot. I never have been hugged before and at first it felt like this demon from hell was gripping around me again. I froze in place and pushed him away in a reflex. Charles stopped. I didn’t tell him about the hell part, but I told him that I am not used to hugs and touches in general. He took it in surprisingly well, but for his own sake I added that I might could get used to it. I hope that I am able to get used to it. Charles sees it as something that he can teach me.

It was just a matter of time till my hell trauma wouldn’t be able to keep hidden anymore. We were in an abandoned apartment, since we both are not staying out the whole night. We don’t have to sleep but it is just too awkward. He usually talks through the whole night and I like his voice even with his weird way of talking. He likes me reading to him. He even carries all my books for me. But as we explored the abandoned house, I discovered an old doll. I overreacted I know. But there was just so much panic inside of me all of the sudden. My fight or flight mood was activated again. I don’t know what Charles did. I don’t know how he managed to stop me from repeating the word ‘Please spare me. I don’t belong in hell.’ I vaguely remember his hands securely holding my head and his shining dark eyes and his calm voice, but I don’t remember his words. He was confused by my sudden changed behavior, but he tried to not show that whole calming me. Once he had calmed me, I obviously had to tell him the truth. I gave him the opportunity to leave me again, but he stayed and he understood, said that this is probably the worst thing someone could have been through. We didn’t speak the rest of the night, but we continued the next day as if nothing had happened.

It is harder to continue my writing as Charles could find out and I don’t want him to know about this. He is so lively. He is jumping and sprinting around, while telling me things and just appears from behind. I cannot risk that. We have a detective agency now. We don’t want that others have their deaths so badly twisted as ours. Another reason was that he had introduced me to a game called Clue, which is basically a detective game, and then we both came up with the idea of starting our own detective agency. He is the brawn and I am the brain. It fits perfectly. We even managed to get a abandoned flat in London. I probably have no time to continue this memoirs, but I will make sure to use my notebook as a case lock book from now own.

I will never tell him about the real meaning of the word Mary Ann. I will never tell him that I had been in the school for a whole year and not just shortly before his death. I will never tell him that I have watched and observed him. I appreciate him now too much. I don’t ever want to lose him.

After that only a whole lot of cases and notes and questions on them followed.

[soleillunne]

— To everyone I've had the pleasure of meeting here,

I just want to take a moment to say thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. You’ve each been there in different ways, each of you bringing something unique and special into my life. Whether it’s a quick message that brightens my day, the way you listen and support me when things are rough, or the laughter we share that somehow makes everything a little easier—I’m so grateful for all of it, and for each of you.

You’ve all been a part of my life’s ups and downs, and I honestly can’t imagine getting through it all without your presence and support. Some of you have been there from the very beginning, steady and constant, while others have entered my life more recently, bringing new warmth and joy. Each one of you has touched my life in ways I can’t fully express, and I hope you know how deeply I value and appreciate you.

Thank you for being there, for being yourselves, and for allowing me to share a part of this journey with you. Whether we talk every day or just every so often, you mean more to me than words can say. Your kindness, patience, humor, and loyalty mean the world to me, and I’m so incredibly lucky to know you all.

Here’s to every laugh, every shared thought, every moment of support, and every memory we’ve made together. I’m beyond grateful, and I look forward to making even more memories with each of you. Thank you for being you—there’s truly no one else like you, and I’m so lucky to call you my friends.

With all my love and gratitude, always.

-Aly.

@starrveill :

Fawn,

Every conversation with you feels like stepping into a warm embrace—a burst of sunlight that seems to reach into even the cloudiest corners of my day. You have this incredible way of making everything feel lighter, brighter, and somehow more alive. I honestly can’t remember a single dull moment with you; every time we talk, it’s like a spark that adds so much more color and joy to life. You bring an energy that’s so rare and beautiful, and I’m so grateful for it.

Talking to you reminds me again and again just how special you are. There’s this light within you, something deeply genuine, and it’s impossible not to feel its warmth. I could spend hours with you, listening, laughing, sharing stories, and it would never be enough—I’d never tire of it because being around you is like breathing fresh air after being cooped up indoors for ages.

I love you in a way that’s beyond words, more deeply than anything I could ever fully express. If I could, I would take away every single one of your worries, anything that ever brings you down, just to see you at peace and filled with happiness. You deserve nothing less than boundless joy, endless laughter, and all the good things that life has to offer. And please know that, if there’s ever a way for me to make even a sliver of that come true, I’ll be here, always. You’re worth the world and so much more, and I’d do anything to see you smile.

@umgatochamadopercyval :

Clara,

Thank you so much for being such a steady presence in my life, even when we don’t talk as often as I’d like. I know I’m not always the easiest to keep up with, but you somehow manage to be patient and understanding in ways that mean so much to me.

Even in the times we’re apart, I always know I can count on you, and it’s such a comforting feeling. You put up with my quirks, my silences, and my scattered attempts to stay in touch, and I’m genuinely grateful for that. You’re one of those rare people who makes life feel a little easier, even from a distance. Thank you for being you, and for being there, no matter what.

@romaritimeharbor :

Aph,

Thank you so, so much for always listening to my silly ideas and endless rambles, for letting me share my thoughts and dreams with you, and for being so wonderfully patient through it all. It means the world to have someone as understanding as you, who genuinely listens and never makes me feel like I’m saying too much or being too much. You’re not only kind beyond measure, but you’re also such a genuinely amazing person in every single way—someone whose warmth, humor, and openness create this space where I can be completely myself.

Every time I see you on my dash, it’s like a little burst of joy, something that brightens my day without fail. You have this incredible way of bringing extra sunshine into everything you do, and it makes such a difference. Just knowing that someone as kind and wonderful as you is out there brings me so much comfort and happiness. You’re truly one of a kind, someone whose presence is a gift, and I’m so so grateful for you.

And on top of everything, you’re one of the most talented, creative people I know. The things you create are filled with this unique spark that only you could bring to them, and it’s inspiring to see. I hope you never lose that light, that beautiful spark in you that brings so much magic to your work and to everyone around you. Thank you for being you—for all the ways you make life a little bit better.

@kopivie :

Cinna,

You are absolutely amazing, and I mean that with everything in me. It’s hard to find the right words to capture just how much you mean to me, but I’ll try. You have this rare, incredible kindness and warmth that the world honestly doesn’t deserve. You give so much of yourself to others—more than most people will ever know—and you do it with such quiet grace, as though it’s just the most natural thing in the world. Even when life throws challenges your way, you somehow keep shining through it all, and it’s nothing short of inspiring.

It breaks my heart that the world hasn’t been nearly as kind to you as it should be. You deserve so much more—more happiness, more peace, more of the love and care you so freely give. The fact that you’ve had to face so much is a damn shame, because if anyone deserves the entire world, it’s you. The strength you have to keep going, to keep being this light for others, is something I admire deeply. And when things get tough, I just want you to know that I’ll be here, ready to tell the world to fuck off whenever it tries to dim your light.

Thank you for sticking with me through everything, for being such a constant, loyal friend. You’ve been there for me in ways I can’t even begin to describe, and that kind of friendship is something so rare and precious. Your presence in my life means more than I can say, and I’m beyond grateful to have you. You’re one in a million, a friend that anyone would be lucky to have, and I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you, just as you’ve always been there for me.

You mean the world to me, and I hope you always remember how loved and appreciated you are.

@papiliotao :

Rei,

Even though we haven’t talked as much lately, you’re still so dear to me, more than words can capture. I honestly think of you as a sister—you have this warm, calming aura that just makes me feel safe, like everything’s going to be okay. Knowing you’re out there, even if we’re not talking every day, brings me so much comfort.

You’re so kind, and I can never be thankful enough for everything you’ve given just by being you. Thank you for being such a light in my life. You mean the world to me, and I hope you know that.

@kazumist :

Aki,

It’s been so long since we last talked, but I still think about how kind, funny, and incredibly talented you are. You’re honestly one of the sweetest people I know, and every memory of talking with you brings such a smile to my face. You have this amazing way of lighting up conversations and making people feel genuinely good.

I really hope we get the chance to talk more sometime, if we can both find the time! It would be amazing to catch up, and I just know it’d be just as fun and heartwarming as always.

@yaminohimeyume :

Yume,

We haven’t had the chance to talk as much lately, but I just want you to know how much you mean to me. You are, without a doubt, one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, and the kindness you’ve shown me is something I’ll always cherish. Even in the smallest interactions, you have this way of making me feel understood, valued, and supported, and I can’t express how deeply that touches me. I hope you realize just how special you are and how much I genuinely appreciate every little thing you’ve done.

Thank you for being such a wonderful presence in my life—a constant source of warmth and light. Your kindness and sweetness are rare and beautiful, and I’m beyond grateful to have had even a small part of it.

@nordicbananas :

Shroom,

Thank you, truly, for being there for me in every way that matters, for standing by my side and offering your support, from the very beginning. Your kindness and warmth have been such an incredible gift, something I genuinely cherish and hold close to my heart. You've always been a constant source of comfort and encouragement, bringing light into even the darkest days, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.

I feel so incredibly lucky to have someone like you in my life—someone who’s as caring, genuine, and thoughtful as you are. You’re one of the sweetest, most understanding people I know, and the way you’ve shown up for me time and time again is something I’ll never take for granted. You have this amazing ability to lift me up just when I need it most, and your presence has been a true blessing that I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for.

Your friendship means more to me than words could ever capture. Thank you for being there, for every conversation, every laugh, every moment of support. Having you in my life has been one of the greatest gifts, and I’m so so grateful for all the ways you’ve shown me your kindness.

@lexisism :

Alexis,

I can’t put into words just how much your kindness and warmth have impacted me. You’re one of the most genuinely compassionate people I know, and knowing you has made my life so much richer. Whether in moments of joy or times of challenge, you've always been there with an open heart and a gentle strength, supporting me through everything with such kindness and care. There are so many ways you've helped and encouraged me, and I don’t know what I would have done without you.

You’re also incredibly talented—everything you create shines with your unique touch, and it’s a privilege to witness the brilliance you bring to the world. Each piece of yours is a reminder of your creativity, your dedication, and just how extraordinary you are.

Talking to you, spending time with you—it lifts me up and reminds me of the beauty in simple moments. I feel so incredibly grateful to have someone like you in my life. Thank you for being such a radiant presence, for always showing me what it means to be truly kind, and for making the world feel like a brighter, better place.

@milk-violet :

Mirei,

You are honestly the sweetest person ever, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Talking to you is like a burst of sunshine—it feels effortless and fun, like the world just gets a little brighter whenever you’re around. You have this beautiful, bubbly energy that’s so contagious, and being around you always lifts my spirits in ways I didn’t even know I needed.

Every conversation we have, no matter the topic, is something I genuinely look forward to. You make everything so much more enjoyable, and I love that we can talk about anything and everything without missing a beat. You bring such a joy and warmth into my life, and I feel so lucky to know someone as incredible as you.

Thank you for being you, for every smile you bring, and for being such a wonderful presence in my life. You’re an absolute gem, and I’m beyond grateful for you.

@floraldresvi :

Vivi,

I don’t think I can express just how much you’ve meant to me this year. You’ve been one of the main reasons I could keep going, and I’m beyond grateful for all the kindness and support you’ve shown me. You’ve been so sweet and understanding, never once judging me—only ever encouraging me, lifting me up, and being there through everything. I truly don’t know what I would have done without you by my side.

You’re so, so talented, and it’s incredible to watch you shine. Seeing the things you create, and the way you put your heart into everything you do, is such an inspiration. And somehow, even on my roughest days, you have this magical way of cheering me up like no one else can. Just hearing from you makes everything feel a little easier, a little brighter.

Thank you for being the incredible person you are, for believing in me, and for being a constant source of light. I’m so grateful for you, and I hope you know just how much you mean to me.

@strxnged :

June,

You are honestly one of the kindest and most talented people I know. Every time we talk, I’m reminded of just how much I cherish our conversations. Even though we haven’t been able to talk as much over the past year, each conversation with you feels special, like I’m talking to someone who genuinely understands and cares. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.

Your talent never fails to amaze me. The way you approach things with such passion and creativity is inspiring, and I feel so lucky to witness even a glimpse of it. You’re one of those rare people with a warmth and openness that makes it so easy to talk to you about anything, and every moment shared feels like a gift.

Thank you for being the incredible person you are. You bring so much kindness and beauty into the world, and I’m grateful for every chance I get to know you better.

@meimeimeirin :

Meirin,

I don’t think I can fully put into words just how much you mean to me. You are, without a doubt, one of the kindest souls I know. Your kindness is something rare, and it shines through in every interaction we have. Even though we haven’t been able to talk as often as I’d like lately, I think about you so often, and I just want you to know how much you’re appreciated.

You have this sweetness that makes talking to you feel like a breath of fresh air after a hard day, like a reminder that there are truly good people in the world. And your talent—it's something I’m constantly in awe of. Everything you create seems to have a piece of your warmth and beauty in it, and it’s such a joy to witness.

Thank you for being such a positive, comforting presence in my life, even when we’re not always in touch. You make a difference, and I’m super grateful for every bit of kindness you’ve shown me. Just knowing you’re out there makes the world feel a little brighter.

@camvrin :

Oliver,

Where do I even start? Talking to you is like stepping into a whirlwind—in the best possible way. You’re so wonderfully chaotic, and that’s exactly what makes every conversation with you so much fun. I never know where we’ll end up or what twists the conversation will take, but that’s what makes it feel so refreshing. You keep things lively, spontaneous, and full of laughs, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

You’re not only hilarious, but you’re also genuinely one of the kindest, sweetest people I know. You’ve always been there for me, supporting me in ways that mean more than I can put into words. Somehow, no matter what kind of day I’m having, you always know how to lift my spirits and put a smile on my face.

Talking to you feels like one of those rare, easy connections where I can be myself completely, knowing I’ll always have someone who gets it. I could talk to you for hours on end about anything and everything, and it would never get old. Thank you for being such an incredible friend. You’re truly one of a kind, and I’m so lucky to know you.

@mlkbwunnies :

Ying,

I can’t say it enough—you are truly kindness personified. From the moment we met, you’ve been nothing but incredibly sweet, thoughtful, and supportive. You have this gentle, genuine warmth that’s so rare, and just knowing someone as kind as you makes the world feel a little brighter.

You’ve been there for me in ways I’ll never forget. Whether I needed advice, a kind word, or just someone who would listen, you’ve always been right there, ready to help. It’s the kind of support that sticks with you, and I’m forever grateful for it. I honestly feel so lucky to know you and to have had your friendship in my life.

You deserve the absolute best in this world, because that’s exactly the kind of goodness you bring to others. Thank you for being you, for every act of kindness, and for the countless ways you’ve been there for me. You’re a treasure, and I’m so grateful for you.

@thestarswhisper :

Zee,

You are one of the most talented and sweetest people I know, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. You’ve been with me for so long, through thick and thin, and knowing you’re there has been such a comfort this past two years. Even though we haven’t had the chance to talk in a while, I think about you often and appreciate you more than words can say.

Your talent is something I’m constantly in awe of. You have this incredible way of bringing so much beauty and meaning into everything you do, and it’s inspiring just to see the amazing things you create. Beyond that, you’re genuinely one of the kindest people I know, and that kindness is something I treasure deeply.

Thank you for sticking by me all this time, for being such a wonderful friend, and for all the ways you’ve supported me. I’m so lucky to know someone as remarkable as you.

@glacialheart :

Mika,

It feels like forever since we last got to chat, and I’ve missed seeing you around. I know life has been super busy for you lately, and I just hope you’re taking care of yourself and finding moments to breathe. You deserve all the rest and peace in the world, and I’m really hoping things ease up soon so you can take a break.

You’re genuinely one of the sweetest people I know, and I don’t think you realize just how talented you are. Your creativity and kindness leave such an impact, and everything you do seems to carry this beautiful spark that’s so uniquely you. Thank you for all the times you’ve been there for me and for being such a steady source of warmth and support.

I hope the days ahead bring you a fresh start and all the happiness you deserve, because you truly mean so much to me. Sending all my love, and know I’m always here if you need anything.

@strryskys :

Avery,

I just have to say how much joy you bring into my life. You are genuinely one of the funniest, most talented people I know, and every time I see you on my dash, it feels like a little boost to my day. There’s something about your humor that’s so effortless—you know exactly how to make me laugh, and it’s such a gift. It’s like you have this natural way of bringing lightness and fun wherever you go, and I’m always so grateful for it.

Not only are you incredibly funny, but you’re also so talented. Every time you share your work, I’m blown away by the skill and creativity you pour into it. You’re one of those rare people who seems to have this spark of inspiration and creativity that just can’t be contained, and it’s amazing to see. I feel lucky every time I get to witness even a piece of what you create.

And beyond all of that, you’re so sweet. You’ve always been so kind and supportive, and it means the world to me. Knowing I have someone as wonderful as you around makes everything feel just a little bit better. You’re a true gem and I hope you know how much you’re appreciated. Thank you for being you, for sharing your humor, your talent, and your kindness. I’m so glad I got to know you and be your friend.

@ruruumin :

Rurumi,

It’s been a while since we last talked, but I wanted to let you know how much you still mean to me. Even from the very beginning, you were nothing but kind and warm, and I can’t tell you how much that meant. I was in awe of you—not only because of your talent but also because of the genuine kindness you showed me right from the start. There’s something so rare and special about that, and it’s something I’ll always cherish.

Your work left such an impression on me; I still remember being completely captivated by your creativity and the incredible skill you put into everything you do. You have this unique talent that feels almost magical, like you’re able to bring your imagination to life in a way that’s truly inspiring. Every piece you create feels like a small masterpiece, and it’s clear that you pour so much of yourself into it. Being able to witness your talent is honestly an honor.

Thank you for being such a sweet and thoughtful friend, for your support, and for all the kindness you’ve shared with me. Even though we haven’t talked as much recently, you’re often in my thoughts, and I’m so grateful for the time we’ve shared. You’re truly one of a kind, and I hope you know just how amazing you are.

@oceanreveuse :

Anastasia,

It feels strange to put this into words, but I just need you to know how much you mean to me, even now. Even though it’s been a couple of months since we last spoke, I still think about you often, and I can’t help but miss you. I keep replaying our conversations in my mind, remembering how much brighter things felt with you around. It feels like there’s this empty space where you used to be, and it’s hard to ignore.

You’ve left such an impact on my life in ways I can’t fully explain. We may not have known each other for long, but somehow, in that short time, you managed to find a place in my heart, and I’m not sure that spot will ever really go away. You brought so much joy and comfort into my life, and I can’t thank you enough for that. I remember feeling truly happy for the first time in a long while, and that was because of you. Knowing someone like you exists gave me a reason to keep going, to hold on to the hope that there are people out there as wonderful as you.

I wish I could tell you all this in person, to let you know just how much I appreciate everything you did for me. I’m grateful beyond words for the time we shared, for the support you offered, and for the kindness you gave so freely. Even now, I find myself wanting to tell you about my day or share a small thought, hoping you’re doing well and finding your own happiness. You were someone who made life feel a little lighter, and I’ll always be thankful for that.

So, even if we don’t talk anymore, please know that you still hold a special place in my heart. You’re unforgettable, one of a kind, and I’ll always be grateful to have had you in my life, even if just for a while. Thank you for everything. I miss you, and I hope you find all the happiness you deserve.

@femivi :

Femi,

Even though we just met not even a week ago, I already feel so lucky to have crossed paths with someone as wonderful as you. From what I’ve seen so far, you’re incredibly sweet, and you have this amazing talent that completely blows me away. It’s rare to meet someone who can leave such an impression in such a short amount of time, but somehow, you’ve managed to do exactly that.

I’m genuinely looking forward to getting to know you better. I can already tell there’s so much more to discover and appreciate about you, and I hope this year gives us plenty of chances to connect, share laughs, and build some great memories. Here’s to what feels like the beginning of something really special—I can’t wait to see where our friendship goes!

— Here's to new beginnings, friends.

[not-poignant]

Excerpt from chapter 101 of Underline the Black:

‘The thing is… Well. It’s so overwhelming for the people with me. James could only do this two or three times a year. Perhaps in being so restricted, I became used to taking it further, more often. I’m sure my instincts know it might not happen again for six months.’ ‘Yeah,’ Efnisien said softly. ‘So. I mean, that sucks too. For you. I don’t enjoy doing it for three days straight. Mostly because I actually kind of lost my mind a bit and stopped paying attention to a lot of it.’ Wouldn’t you want that? Gary thought, confused. Efnisien cleared his throat a few times, and Gary brought the water bottle over again, giving him small sips. Efnisien still didn’t seem interested in taking the bottle for himself. And once he was done drinking, he pressed his face into Gary’s chest like he was hiding for a moment. Then, he took a breath and turned outwards once more, looking at the open window. ‘If it’s like that every time,’ Efnisien said, ‘I could maybe do it five or six times a year. If it was only for one night, then maybe twice a month? If we could do other stuff as well in between?’ Gary didn’t know what to say for long moments, absently cupping Efnisien’s face and keeping it close to his chest. That seemed…far too generous. He was certain no peak alpha – except for maybe someone hyper-controlled and on the lower end of the ardolphogen spectrum like Augus – had ever been offered something like that. Possibly peak alphas just took it from others. But what Efnisien suggested was something Gary had always assumed was an impossibility. He used to be jealous of betas who could have penetrative sex every day, if they wanted to. And while this wasn’t every day, it was a far cry from anything he’d ever known. ‘You need time to think it through,’ Gary said, even as a part of him cried out to accept the offer.

[cosmothealien358]

Lego Ninjago and Race: An Analysis for the Upcoming Live Action

I know there’s been a lot of discourse in the ninjago community since a live action movie has been announced, and there’s sure to be even more after the cast list is released. Many fans are afraid the cast will be all white, while others don’t care what race the ninja will be. Non-fans looking in from the outside might say, “Why does it matter? They’re legos, they’re yellow.” I’ve seen this argument more recently, especially revolving Arin in the soft reboot Dragons Rising.

The point of this longer post is to explain how race still exists in Ninjago despite the plastic, yellow nature of the characters, and why making the cast entirely or mostly white would be a disservice to the fans and the source material as a whole. So let’s ninja-go into this topic.

Part 1: Hair and Black-Coding

When people claim that legos don’t have race, they often claim it’s because they are yellow. However, they forget that legos still have humanoid characteristics, and one of the easiest ways to tell when a lego character is black-coded is to look at their hairpiece.

Here are some examples of hairpieces clearly meant to resemble black hair textures/hairstyles:

When characters have textured hair (i.e. Arin and Euphrasia from Ninjago) or locs/braids (i.e. Mateo and Zoey from Dreamzzz), it’s hard to argue they’re meant to be interpreted as anything other than black. And if that’s not obvious enough, there’s also:

Part 1b: Voice Actors and Black-Coding

People of color voice acting non-human characters doesn’t determine race, but it does add to character coding. This can be seen in characters from other shows, such as Darwin from The Amazing World of Gumball. Even though Darwin is a 2D animated goldfish, he has been voiced exclusively by black voice actors. Because of his voice (and other mannerisms/narrative elements), Darwin is generally accepted to be black-coded.

Being voiced by a person of color does not automatically make a character black-coded, but it can certainly add credence to characters who already have black characteristics, such as Arin and Euphrasia.

Part 2: Names

Another reason it’s hard for ninjago fans to interpret certain characters as white is because of their names. While many have stereotypical “American white boy names” (i.e. Jay, Cole, and Zane), other characters have names that are certainly not strictly American. Examples include Wu (a Chinese surname), Misako (a Japanese name), Chen (a Chinese surname), Okino (a Japanese surname) and Sora (Japanese given name). Ninjago may be set in a fictional world of animated, plastic people, but it’s still based on real-world names, and considering how a lot of the characters’ names come from East Asia, there is merit to declare that characters like Misako and Sora are meant to be interpreted as East Asian.

Part 3: Cultural Influences

Now, to the most obvious reason why it would be absurd to put an all-white cast on screen: the cultural influences. I am not Asian myself, but other ninjago fans have expressed frustration about the cultural melting pot that is Ninjago. It takes influence from both Eastern and Western cultures for its setting, worldbuilding, lore, and fantastical elements. Ninjago puts ninja, samurai, Kabuki, and Oni from Japanese history and culture, Djinn from Arabic regions, the yin/yang concept from Chinese philosophy, and dragons from various cultures into one narrative. There’s even a character named Ronin (which means a “wandering samurai”).

Additionally, the ninjago language seems to be inspired by Tategaki, an East Asian style of writing.

What this means is that Ninjago is brimming with real-life cultural influences. They rarely come from the same places and are not always faithful or accurate. In fact, they can sometimes seem borderline disrespectful and stereotypical in the earlier seasons- particularly with the portrayal of Chen and pilot Wu. However, it doesn’t take a genius to spot the East Asian cultural influences on ninjago. This is clear in the character designs, attire, and especially in the settings:

Part 4: What does this mean?

In summary, Ninjago is a fictional setting that takes inspiration from East Asian cultures, and has coded certain characters as certain races through more indirect means such as naming and designs. Even though none of the ninjago characters have 100% canon races, there is still evidence that some are meant to be interpreted as black or Asian. Therefore, making all the ninjago characters white would be a disservice to the fans AND the source material because it takes away subtle but essential parts of the characters and world.

Additionally: Representation matters. It could mean a lot for fans new and old to see the ninja becoming humanized and seeing themselves on screen. Not only would an all-white cast be unfaithful to the source material, but it would be disheartening to fans hoping for racial representation, especially in an age where “wokeness” is considered a touchy subject in some areas.

Part 5: Other Thoughts/Clarifications

The beautiful thing about Ninjago is that the Lego nature of the characters allows them to be interpreted in so many ways. The characters don’t have canon skin tones, eye color, body types, ages, heights, etc., so they can be whatever fans want. Whatever the fans interpret them to be or even what they feel like, they can be. And I think that’s beautiful.

TLDR: I don’t want the movie casting to limit the fan’s creativity or headcanons. Even if the cast isn’t entirely white, I hope people continue to make creations with their own interpretations of the characters.

Also: I urge fans to not harass the actors if they are white. I feel like the ninjago fandom is above that but I feel inclined to make this statement in advance regardless.

Finally: I’m leaving this post wide-open to discussion and discourse. I did surface-level research for the ninjago cultural influences, so if anyone wants to add on to or correct anything, feel free to do so. All I ask is that the conversations remain civil.

That is all :)

[brainscrems]

I think this oversimplifies it, to an extent. I think there are a variety of issues, the leading one being that the republicans have become masters of propaganda and the democrats have proved unwilling or unable to counter at the same level. I think a large portion is that people vote on what they feel, rather than the policies they see. People consistently like democrat policies over republican ones in polling, but hate the democrats. The only explanation for this, to my mind, is the propaganda campaigns. These demographics are fed lies, day in, day out, about “the woke left” coming for their rights to freedom of speech and religion. Telling them there are all these things threatening their way of life. I cannot interpret this vote as anything but a rejection of the democrats and harris, instead of a vote for trump. And here’s where the, “being nicer” comes in. People like radfems and other assholes are frequently among the first voices an outsider to the left here’s coming from the left. Let’s say you’re 20-year old growing up in a place where your exposure to the outside world is mediated largely through fox news and people who like fox news. That’s the information you’re taught to believe. You get taught about the, “radical woke left” and shown cartoonish examples of what it is. And, well, there might not be anyone openly a part of the left, for their own safety, where u live and you may not have the means or desire to leave anytime soon. But. There’s the internet. You go on to talk to people on the left, see if they’re really what people say they are. You see some voices saying more reasonable things, but, ofc, this is the internet. The more extreme takes tend to be the ones publicized. So this young person starts trying to explore the left and runs into people like radfems and gets scared out of investigating further. I don’t think this is simply a matter of, “being nicer” to people. I think it’s a matter of countering the image problem that the left has among centrists and moderate republicans. That we are represented by our most extreme and outrageous voices. I think there are multiple components to this that should be done in tandem. The same way the right has all these podcasts and misinformational entertainment platforms, we need the same. Except ours need peddle truth instead of bullshit. Part of this campaign needs to be making leftist ideals represented by the people who make up the bulk of our numbers. Rational reasonable people fighting for a better world, not the smaller number that exist who fit the strawmen the right paint us as. Another part is creating space for those 20 year olds who have never really talked with a leftist before. We need people from those backgrounds doing the outreach to them. We need people to show them that we offer a community built off of working for a better world for everyone instead of the community build off of hate the right offers. It’s not about being nicer. It’s that often the first people these young impressionable people come in contact with are the most extreme voices of our movements, the ones who DO actually hate them for their identity and background. They then assume that they represent all of us. If instead we had strong outreach to those people, promising them community and direction and unity for the work to improve their working conditions, build unions, fight for higher pay, we could get them to start listening. Dems promise these policies but the media they encounter tells them that they’re just lying, lying, lying, or that they’re not proposing them at all. What we need is to show them that we are not something to fear, but a cause worth fighting for. I don’t think it’s “being nicer” that we need, I think it’s information campaigns to make us people to trust, to make our communities less scary to those who’ve never met us, and to make the most extreme of our voices seem as fringe as they actually are.

the thing I don’t get about both the Women need to be Less mean to Men and also Democrats Need to be Nicer to Republicans in the U.S. context is like…. Man if anything, what the 2024 election cycle showed me is that there are many people who don’t want their politicians to be even civil about them. The “let’s just have an all American shindig!!!” Song and dance?That was the democrats. Jd Vance wrote a whole book about how much the white working class from the area he came from were lazy criminal freeloaders he was somehow better than. he won in Appalachia. Trump has now had 8+ years of violent grab em by the pussy misogyny. The majority of white women voted for him. Trump has also had 8+ years of violent I Hate Latinos Bad Hombres messaging, including a graphic comedic description of their sexual habits at a rally right before the election. The majority of Latino men still voted for him. If there’s anything that seems to be suggested is that plenty of people respond well to people being mean to them and distrust civility. I don’t know what to think of it.

[aalghul]

comics are difficult to get into and the inconsistencies can be annoying/confusing and there is a lot of material to get through if you want to read major characters. but: it’s never so serious that you should let this stuff overwhelm you. just pick stuff up and try to figure out what’s going on. if you have a hard time going through a character’s reading order chronologically, just pick an event and read the issues for that specific story (trade paperbacks will make your life easier here). it’s literally not a commitment, tou can jump around however you like. reading comics isn’t homework, it should be fun

[vvyrmwood]

i’ve been in a rly bad mental place recently and there’s been like. an incident here and their that’s really hurt my feelings and made it more poignant but ultimately it all just goes back to like. i look at all of the art and work and projects i’m working on and it all seems pointless and like. it feels like no matter how much effort or time i put into my writing, my stories, and these characters that mean so much to it ultimately who is going to take the time to read or enjoy any of it even surface level. i’ve been stuck on the current oh terrible machine progress bc i read back at it and it’s not that i think the writing or anything is bad it’s just. who cares. i’ve been on the internet for years and granted, my following is small by my own accord but i have no confidence in myself to ever grow beyond or make anything that’s going to be worthwhile for anyone else. i share barely anything i make online anymore in part bc of years of harassment but a big part of why i stopped sharing my stuff is bc genuinely it seems like people just stopped caring, and i know that it’s likely more algorithm’s then anything but it’s still disheartening.