#not afraid to say the spike question is make or break for me

[samuelsdean]

Stay With Me

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary:  "you’ve been shot countless times, huh?” “that sounded a bit more reassuring in my head.”

genre: angst & fluff

word count: 1.1k

author's notes: almost a year of no writing, but i'm finally home (i posted a new fic)! it's been one hectic year for me. uni was crazy & i started my clinical rotations. plus, i did my thesis & it even got a distinction mark so i'll be presenting it at a research congress pretty soon (yay!). with that, i'm really sorry for ghosting ao3 & tumblr. i couldn't find the time to insert it in between uni & breaking down lol. anyway, i'll be posting a lot more while i'm on break. i hope you'll enjoy reading my first fic after a year of zzz. have fun!

YOU CAN HEAR SIRENS AND PEOPLE SHOUTING.

They say when you are knocking on death’s door, hearing is the last of your senses you will lose. If you’re dying, you don’t know it. Nothing makes sense at the moment. It’s all just blurry hues of blues and reds and shouting—Stay with me—the smell of something metallic. The only thing you’re sure of right now is that your head hurts and it seemed like a van ran right through you with how achy your body feels right now. 

Who’s  that? You mused. Why are they yelling at me?  I’m  right here. You turned your head slightly and tried to open your eyes.

It’s quite the task.

“T-That’s it,” The person, whom you think was yelling at you, said. “Stay with me, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes.”

You groaned and gripped the person's hand tightly as if to stand up, but you couldn't. Everything ached. And the person holding you, just kept on talking, their voice a low murmur at first. But even through the haze of pain, it was starting to sound familiar. You recognized that dulcet tone, the rich, smooth sound that could captivate your attention with random facts or lull you to sleep with equal ease.

The voice, you realized with a flicker of a smile, belonged to Spencer, its familiar cadence a warm current cutting through the blossoming pain.

“Reid?” You croaked.

Your throat’s dryer than any other desert in existence right now. And you sound worse than you look—you think—you don’t know for sure, except the fact that you can’t move much.

“It’s me,” Spencer chuckled while sniffling. “I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?”

Even through the haze of pain, a new wave of discomfort bloomed in your shoulder, sharp and insistent. Before you could react and get up, Spencer's hand tightened on yours, his voice laced with a tremor you'd never heard before. "Don't move, Y/N. You've been shot."

He applied pressure on your wound—which you just noticed. The pain hit you in a delayed wave, a white-hot stab that stole your breath. You hissed a weak sound that did little to mask the spike in your heart rate. 

"Stop moving or you're gonna bleed out even more!" Spencer's voice, usually so calm and collected, was laced with a raw panic you'd never heard before.

"Easy there, tiger," you tried to joke, your voice raspy. "I've been through worse. I’ve been shot countless times. W-why are you so worried?"

The question came out in a shaky whisper, the concern evident in his voice a stark contrast to the usual intellectual debates you shared.

Spencer's grip tightened, momentarily cutting off your circulation. "Because you could have died, Y/N!" he snapped, his voice cracking with a choked sob. "You… you were…"

He trailed off, unable to put into words the terrifying image that had flashed before him when he saw you collapse, after hearing the sound of a bullet whizzing by and hitting you.

The sight of your vulnerability stripped away his usual composure, leaving a raw fear he couldn't conceal. It took him a moment to regain his composure, his voice softening as he continued, "You shouldn't be so glib about this. It was a nasty shot, close to a major artery."

Despite the pain, a warmth bloomed in your chest. You'd never seen Spencer like this, so shaken and afraid.

"Okay," you murmured, forcing a weak snicker. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, at least I got you to patch me up, right, Dr.Reid?"

A ghost of a smile glinted across his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hold still," he mumbled, amused but also bothered at your dreadful timing for jokes. He applied pressure more gently this time. "You’ve been shot countless times, huh?”

“That sounded a bit more reassuring in my head” You quipped. 

A bit lightheaded from the pain, you clutched Spencer’s hand. The shriek of approaching sirens and the glare of headlights cut through the haze. You struggled to focus on the lifeline thrown in a storm of confusion.

"They're here," Spencer said, his voice tight. A sheen of sweat beaded on his forehead, a stark contrast to his usual cool composure.

"About time," you rasped, trying to lighten the mood. The effort cost you a fresh wave of dizziness, the world tilting slightly on its axis.

To which, Spencer shot you a look that was half-annoyed, half-worried. "Don't try to be a hero. You're losing a lot of blood. Any movement can dislodge the clot forming in your wound, renewing the bleeding. So, stop moving!"

"Just keeping things interesting," you mumbled, the words slurring slightly. “Wouldn’t want my last moments here on earth to be so grim…”

Spencer's jaw clenched for a moment, then he sighed, the sound heavy with relief. "You always were a pain," He muttered, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You’re  going to be okay, he thought.

The sirens reached a fever pitch, pulling up right beside you. A flurry of activity erupted as paramedics swarmed, the rest of the team trying to make sure you were tended to and that you were going to be okay, their movements a bit panicked but practiced, and efficient. Relief washed over you, a sweet wave that threatened to pull you under. 

"Hold on, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice desperate despite the composure of his words. He kept his hand pressed firmly on your wound, his touch a grounding anchor in the chaos. “Help is here. Everyone’s here. Just… stay with me, okay?"

"Going somewhere," you slurred, your eyelids drooping.

"No, you're not," he said fiercely, his voice barely a whisper above the shouts of the paramedics. "You're coming with us."

You coughed a sharp rasp that sent a jolt of pain through your shoulder. "Stats say shoulder wounds aren't usually fatal," you wheezed, trying to distract yourself from the ache.

Spencer's hand stilled for a moment, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head. "What?"

"Yeah," you continued, your voice weak but persistent. "L-look, I get it, you're scared. But statistically, shoulder wounds aren't as serious..." Your voice trailed off as a wave of nausea washed over you.

"Maybe you shouldn't be reciting medical statistics right now," Spencer said sharply, his voice laced with a hint of panic.

“S-shouldn’t that be my line, boy genius?” You continued to joke, as the world dissolved into a scramble of flashing lights and blurry faces.

The last thing you registered was the feel of Spencer's hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent promise that resonated louder than any siren.

[em-ontv]

Hi I’m the anon who sent you the idea for “sing a song for me” and it’s literally so perfect I can’t wait to read the second part. I might cry a little I’m not even lying this was a dream I had and I was like huh wow that would make a cool fanfic but I can’t write at all. And you made it even better than I could’ve imagined thank you so much 🥰

Sing a song for me. (2/2)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!fem!reader

Warnings: injuries/scars, comfort/intimacy (non-explicit), language, no use of y/n, Butcher being Butcher, probably ooc Ben (I made him a bit too gentle, we don't need more trauma), not proof-read

A/n: hello, anon! I'm so glad you liked part 1, this is the long due part 2 I promised. Hope you like it <3 sorry for taking so long to write this :'(

Read part 1 here

Word count: 2.4k

The inside of the van was cramped and smelled faintly of oil and sweat. The seats were worn, the leather cracked from use. The night outside was dense, you saw just enough stars to remind yourself that while you were locked away, there was a whole other world out there beyond your cell.

You sat beside Ben, who kept casting glances your way as if he was afraid you'd shatter. But you couldn't blame him... you must have looked terrible. The bruises, the exhaustion, the haunted look in your eyes. You didn't even bother to look at yourself in the reflection of the window on your way into the van. It felt like too much—like you couldn't handle what Vought had done to you. Not yet.

The ride was mostly silent until Butcher finally spoke.

"Alright, love, here's the deal." he said, breaking the silence. His eyes looked over you, his expression calculating. "We need to know now. Are you in, or do we drop you somewhere nice and safe to rot? We're taking down Homelander. It's not a bloody game."

Hughie shifted uncomfortably, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent. You stared back at Butcher, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to form words, but your head was spinning.

You knew what he was asking, but it felt too much to make that decision right now. You just wanted to rest—a bed, a moment to breathe without fear clawing at your throat.

"Alright, back the fuck off." Ben's voice snapped, breaking through the haze of your thoughts. The tension in the van spiked, and for a second, it looked like he was ready to lunge across the seat at Butcher and knock all of his teeth out. "Can't you see she's been through enough? She doesn't need your bullshit right now."

Butcher's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he met Ben's glare. "We don't have time for second-guessing, mate. It's a very simple question."

Butcher turned his gaze back to you. "You can help us take down Homelander, the bastard who’s got half the world wrapped around his fuckin' finger, or we can take you back home. But no guarantees, yeah? Vought knows about you. They’ll come for you. Eventually."

You swallowed hard, rubbing a hand over your throat, your mind spinning. Home? That word didn't even feel real. Could that place—that cell—even be worthy of being called something like home?

But then again, if you didn't help, could you ever be safe again? For once in a very long time, the choice was yours, but both paths seemed like a death end.

"She needs time." Ben said, his jaw tensing, quietly observing you as if he knew what you were thinking. The hand that he rested on your back made you flinch slightly, causing him to retract it, his fingers curling into a fist.

Your gaze faltered, your eyes dropping to the ground before you managed to look back at Butcher.

A sharp huff escaped Butcher, his patience worn out. “Time's not a luxury we've got. This ain't a charity." He turned toward you, his tone biting. "Again, you can go back to your cozy little cell, I suppose. Vought’ll just find a new use for you.”

"For fuck's sake, she just got out of a shithole." Ben snapped, his voice simmering with anger. "Give her some fuckin' time."

For a moment, Butcher looked like he might argue with some witty comeback, but after a beat, he exhaled sharply, turning his attention back to the road. "Fine. But time's ticking."

The rest of the drive was quiet. You leaned back in your seat, your eyelids heavy, letting your eyes close for just a moment, the noise faded into the background as you let exhaustion win over.

––––

When you reached the destination, Ben helped you out of the van, his movements cautious, his hand warm and solid on your lower back as he guided you inside. The "safe house" was as secure as it was miserable, but right now, that didn't matter. It was shelter, and it was enough.

The others dispersed, Butcher grumbling quietly under his breath as he stalked off to another room, Frenchie and Kimiko greeted you with a wave before leaving too.

Ben, though, lingered by your side, his hand hovering near yours, gently brushing against it for a second, but he didn't dare to reach for you.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice rough but oddly gentle, his gaze never leaving your face. It wasn't something you expected to hear from him—after seeing his quite violent display in the lab, but here he was, looking at you with more concern than anyone else ever had.

You nodded, a small smile curling on your lips, swallowing thickly. "I'm... yeah. Just... tired," you were almost embarrassed by how weak you sounded, but he didn't judge, a faint understanding in his expression.

Hours passed in a tired blur. You had settled into a room, a worn-out bed, but it was better than nothing. Everyone retreated to their own corners of the place for what little rest they could find. You sank into the mattress, your eyes drifting shut almost instantly.

––––

It was sometime past midnight when Ben jolted awake, a cold sweat clinging to his skin, running a shaky hand over his face. The room was pitch dark, save for the faint glow of moonlight outside filtering through the window. He sat up, his heart pounding, the remnants of the dream clinging to him.

Images flashed through his mind—memories of Vought, of his own time in their hands, of the time when he was betrayed, taken away, being tested on, and then frozen for decades. His breathing was ragged, the familiar surge of anger clawing its way to the surface, but something else broke through.

His thoughts drifted to you.

Without really thinking, he got up, slipping out of his room and down the hallway, to the room where you slept. His steps were slow, cautious, not wanting to disturb you.

He hesitated at the doorway to your room, his breath catching when he saw you lying there, on the narrow, uncomfortable bed.

In the dim light, your features were softened, the lines of worry and pain absent. You looked peaceful, your breathing slow and steady, and it eased something in him, his shoulders sagging as the tension slipped away.

Ben took a step into the room, but the floor creaked under his weight, and your eyes snapped open, sitting up on the bed, startled.

"...m'sorry," he whispered, his voice soft but hoarse, like something was bothering him. "Didn’t mean to wake you."

"It’s okay," you murmured, your breathing becoming steady. Your eyes flickered over his face, the lingering pain in his expression catching you off-guard.

You knew that something was wrong, you'd seen that look before, in patients who had been through a lot, in people who had lost themselves along the way.

He hesitated, glancing away, as if embarrassed by his own vulnerability. He looked like he might turn and go back to his own room—but his uneven breathing made him pause. The sight of you was comforting, and that kind look in your eyes made him move closer instead of backing away.

He took a few careful steps closer, almost unsure. "Just wanted to… make sure you were alright," he said, his voice low.

You nodded, your heart still pounding, but not from fear this time, it was something warm. "I’m okay. Just… hard to sleep sometimes."

He nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. He sank down to one knee, then both, kneeling beside your bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him and his slow breaths. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy but comforting.

Without thinking, you lifted your hand, resting it gently against the side of his head, your thumb brushing over his temple. His eyes widened, a brief moment of shock crossing his face.

"What are you—?" his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the touch almost made him wince in pain from how gentle it was. It was like your fingers brushed against some soft spot inside of him, he almost melted.

"It's okay... trust me," you started, trying to reassure him. His eyes met yours, the initial tension easing. He didn't pull away, but instead leaned into your touch in a quiet surrender. "My powers, they'll help," you added softly.

At your voice, his eyes fluttered shut, his expression softening as he exhaled a long, shaky breath. The walls he had built around himself crumbled bit by bit the more he felt your touch.

You hesitated, then began to hum—a soft, gentle melody, barely audible but enough to fill the silence. It felt strange, using your powers willingly again, but different this time... it brought you back to the bittersweet memories of your time before Vought. The tune was simple, soothing, a song you’d sung so many times before. Not destructive, but safe, warm.

As the notes drifted through the air, you felt Ben’s body relax under your touch. His breathing slowed, each exhale deeper, more even, and his hand reached up, covering yours as he pressed your palm closer to his face, silently grounding himself in the warmth of it.

His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a gentle touch, and he felt something he thought he lost... peace. A kind of comfort that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Or something that he thought he'd given up for good, back in the old days, or maybe he'd never had it to begin with.

When your humming finally faded, he stayed there, his hand still covering yours, his eyes still closed. For a second, you thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t deserve this," he murmured, his tone laced with a sadness that made your heart ache. "You don't understand what I've... the things that I did."

You shook your head, your hand instinctively wanting to fall from the side of his face but he only held you closer with a conflict—whether he wanted to push you away or pull you into his arms and not let go.

"All I know is that I would've been stuck in that lab if it weren't for you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "A favor for a favor. I think that's fair."

"Well, it wasn't entirely my choice to break you out," he muttered, that blunt tone of his slipping through, as if it was his last attempt to pull away before sinking too deep.

A soft scoff escaped your lips. "Whatever it was, at least I'm not stuck there anymore."

Slowly, you pulled him up onto the bed beside you, and he let you, his movements careful like he was afraid he might shatter the moment. You shifted, settling so that you were facing him, the blanket fell from your shoulders to pool around your waist, leaving the bruises and scars on your arms exposed under the dim light.

Ben’s gaze traveled over each mark, each scar, but there was no horror in his expression, no pity—only reverence. He reached out, his fingers brushing over a bruise on your shoulder, gentle and careful, as if touching something precious.

"They did this to you," he murmured, a hardness in his voice. It wasn't a question, but a statement. He knew too well.

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "They're fading." you said, looking away for a moment, as if you didn't want to acknowledge the scars.

Without a word, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the bruise on your shoulder, a feather-light kiss that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Ben...?" you asked hesitantly. The small tremble in your voice made him stop, a flash of worry crossed his face, his teeth biting at his lower lip. He thought he might have overstepped.

"I'm... sorry," he whispered, pulling back. He feared that he had ruined whatever small trust that had begun to form between you.

But your fingers threaded through his hair, hand pressing to the back of his head to bring him closer again. "Stop apologizing," you breathed softly.

His eyes met yours and a small smile threatened to curl up on his lips, a mutual understanding settled between the two of you before his head dipped down to the crook of your neck. His lips brushed against your skin, kissing an old scar, then he kissed another, and another, his mouth trailing over each scar, each bruise, as if he was trying to erase the pain they held. It felt like an apology, like he was mending you.

His touch was careful, almost reverent, and you felt the warmth of each kiss seep into your skin, soothing the ache that lay beneath. You closed your eyes, letting the gentleness of his touch wash over you.

You felt your chest restricting, your breath becoming shallow, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been so taken care of. It was overwhelming, but you didn't want him to stop.

Ben’s hands were rough, calloused from years of fighting, but the way he touched you was anything but. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away the tears that had slipped down your cheek without you even noticing. Then he closed the distance, pressing his lips to your forehead, a kiss so soft, so full of warmth that it made your chest warm and ache at the same time.

"You're safe," he whispered. "You're still here, and I'm with you." It wasn't much, but it was the most reassurance anyone could get out of him.

You leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he sighed, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, his gaze soft and unguarded in a way you hadn't seen before.

Slowly, he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you as you settled your forehead against his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his warmth. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe.

After a long silence, you spoke, your quiet voice breaking the quiet. "Hey... Ben?"

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice a murmur against your hair.

"I'll help you take down Homelander."

[hannie-dul-set]

sorry but golden retriever sungchan x black cat reader is the only canon option! if you write a blurb on this pls i will actually kiss you in the mouth (ily btw)

[man on a mission]. jung sungchan has taken it upon himself to make you laugh at least once a day.

“you’re so fucking lame,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes, sitting in front of him at the cafeteria while he has two chopsticks sticking out of his nose. “gross,” you say, but the slight quirk of your lips and the way you quickly reach for your iced lemonade to cover it up makes him pump his fist in the air in victory— even at the expense of his image.

“ha! you laughed! i win.”

his other friends ask him why he even bothers. or, in the words of anton, “hyung, why are you so hell bent on making a fool out of yourself at least once a day?” but his motivations go beyond the selfish desire of proving that his sense of humor can even penetrate the moody and scary (i.e. you). sungchan has made is a mission to make you laugh every single day because of one single reason.

sungchan is simply sick and tired of people talking shit about you.

“it’s ridiculous!” he huffs, slamming both fists on the table after anton asked him the question. “they don’t even know them that well!” yet those same people call you bossy, call you a stick in the mud, temperamental and so on and so forth— which, sungchan has to admit isn’t all wrong. you’re always scowling or glaring or telling people off, but your love language is violence and words needled with spikes. sungchan is the only with enough fluency to see the tenderness in your light punches and your eloquent “fuck you’s” straight to his face.

no, he doesn’t want you to change. he doesn’t want you to soften up your edges just because of the thoughtless impressions of a couple dozen unimportant people. 

but it won’t hurt to see you laughing ever so often, right?

“oh my god, stop it,” you wheeze, hands pressed tightly to your face after sungchan shows you a dumb tiktok video he just saw, then imitating it with just as much grace and passion, causing you to snort out loud and burst into a fit. “fuck’s sake, i hate you so much.”

once more, mission accomplished. he forced you to tag along with his friends for dinner today, so that was a necessary move to break the ice— especially because anton is kind of afraid of you. seeing you out of your usual resting bitch face should ease their intimidation, and jung sungchan is proud of himself for a job well done seeing shotaro having a passionate discussion about a manga you’ve both read.

“no way, i couldn’t find a copy anywhere! can you lend it to me?”

there’s  a swell of pride in his chest seeing you talk so easily with someone else other than him. it’s nice to see other people finally seeing you in the same light as he had for the past couple of years. pride. yes. that’s exactly and the only thing he’s feeling right now.

“hey.”

but as your conversation with taro lengthens that you haven’t looked at him since laughing at his joke, and as eunseok discreetly calls his attention while staring at you from across the table with a look in his eyes that’s all too familiar— almost as if he’s looking straight at a mirror—sungchan thinks that maybe he should abort his mission.

“your friend has a pretty smile.”

he knows. he’s been trying to get everyone else to see it all this time.

[manias-wordcount]

headcanons for when you ask them if they'd love you as a worm? 👉👈 for spike (cowboy bebop), edward (fmab), daichi (haikyuu!), & howl (howl's moving castle) if you don't mind? sending you all my love for providing us with the content that you do, I hope school is going well for you 💖

“Would You Love Me as a Worm?” HCs (Spike Spiegel, Edward Elric, Daichi  Sawamura, Howl Jenkins Pendragon)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂!! :)) 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 !!!!!! 

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl      

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

Spike Spiegel

“What’s a worm?”

100% just looks at you with a frown and asks that

Of course, he starts smiling and chuckles a bit when you get to fussing at him for playing dumb

Though it’s his first instinct to shrug and to ask what worms look like because chances are?

He hasn’t seen one since before he was a part of the Red Dragon syndicate

There you two are- cuddling on the couch and scrolling through a screen that shows nothing but worms ( much to the dismay of Faye who walks in and immediately walks out)

After a while, Spike puts his hand over yours to stop you from scrolling down any further 

Then he looks at you, deep into your eyes as he leans in close, and tells you-

“No. They’re kind of gross looking.”

This time your reaction really gets him laughing- and promising that he’s “just joking, calm down!” and he’ll “keep you in his pocket, he swears!”

Edward Elric

“...is this a riddle?”

That’s all he says after 30 seconds of silence between the two of you

He still doesn’t know what to think or say when you insist that it’s NOT a riddle or a trick and you just want to know

“Okay…how did you turn into a worm though?”

He starts to get flustered as you tell him that the how and why of it all doesn’t matter and that your question still stands

Of course, that only serves to make him more nervous

“But…would I know you before you turned into a worm? Or is this a world where you were always a worm- HEY WAIT DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME”

You, not wanting to listen to him ramble on and on about a situation he’s overcomplicating all by himself, leave the room

Because he’s Edward Elric (read: overdramatic and loud) ends up throwing his book to the ground and chasing after you, afraid he made you upset

But hey- the image of him shouting apologies and saying “OF COURSE I’D LOVE AS A WORM, WHO WOULDN’T” at the top of his lungs was a nice break for all the other staff at Central Command

Daichi Sawamura

“Aww, of course, I would! I’d keep you in my pocket and take you everywhere with me!”

See this guy gets it

Daichi had seen this trend online a couple of times when messing around on his phone

And while he thought it was a little weird…

…it reminded him a lot about you

Now would he actually love you as a worm?

Nobody knows (yes, ofc he would he’s Daichi)

But of course, he’s gonna do anything to keep you happy! 

You’re his world!

Even if that means talking about how he’s going to build you a big worm terrarium where you can live a life of worm luxury for longer than what should be possible

Howl Jenkins Pendragon

“As a worm? Now, that’s a peculiar question…”

See this guy doesn’t get it

But he’s the great wizard Howl and he’s gonna find a way to be the most charming individual in the world 

Even while he’s completely clueless

“My dear, I’d love you in any form that you took”

He’ll tell you as he pulls you close and cradles your face in his hands

And when you ask him “Any form?” for reassurance, he’s there to give it to you- ten-fold

“Absolutely any form, my love”

Cue you throwing your arms around him and cuddling up to him in pure happiness

While Howl just gives a fake-retching Calcifer a sly wink as he returns your embrace

[mueritos]

heyy, do you have any advice on not getting scared when doing t injections? I did my 15th one today and every time I do it i just get more scared idk why. im not scared of the pain or fucking up my anxiety just spikes everytime im about to do it :[ the moment the needle breaks through the skin its fine though. (also you are a very big inspirstion to me and I love your style and also thank you for posting about hrt, I learned a lot ^_^)

hello friend! thank you for trusting me with this question. i can say a few things that come to mind. one is that with time, you build your confidence with injections, and eventually you might find specific sites that work better for you. For example, I spent my first yr on t injecting into my thighs, but i found that it made my anxiety worse and I had many bad shots, including hematomas, that developed. Instead, I now primarily do all of my shots into my glute muscle, and I find it is far less painful. while it is more difficult to inject, i find that the ways I twist my body distract me from any pain.

Secondly, I would like to say that with time you will get less anxious about your shots. it took me several years to build confidence and to no longer be so afraid. I used to be near-fainting every time i did my shot (and ive never fainted before t shots) and would poke myself 5 or 6 times trying to find an injection shot! Now, five years later, i can confidently inject with little anxiety. However, it doesn't go away completely, it just is not always present. Some shots are more difficult than others, and that's okay! Recognize that there's no singular point in which you stop being scared of shot, and its in fact a biological response to having to hurt yourself!

Some tips: schedule your shot with plenty of time. If it's shot day but you woke up late and usually do it before class or work, just save it for later! Being a few hours or a day or two late on your shot isn't going to ruin your journey. Build a routine with your shot, like implementing a treat afterward or playing a song that keeps you happy/calm. Another tip is to train a friend on how to give you shots! I've had my twin give me some shots when I was particularly anxious, and this can give you time to regulate before your next shot. If you're not comfortable with a friend giving you a shot, see if you feel better having a friend with you during shots! This can be on the phone or in person, as I find talking to someone while doing a shot distracts me from what makes me anxious.

And the final tip: if shots bring up debilitating anxiety, consider switching injection site, im to subq, or switch to a different form of t! there's nothing wrong with switching to gel if shots don't work for you ^-^

hope that all helped! if anyone else has any tips, leave them in the notes!

[sanjismywhore]

Brain and Heart

Ignis Scientia x reader

Warnings: Fluff, rejection

Requested by @batsandbirdsposts

Tysm for making this request! I hope you like it!!! (I’m sorry it took so long 😭)

————————————————————————

Stepping outside, you stared out at the sky full of stars above. Even if they couldn’t deliver any comfort tonight, you needed this moment to clear your head.

Then you heard the soft crackle of the fire. When you turned your head, A small luminescent campfire glowed at the center of camp. Ignis was sitting next to the flame.

His features were softened by the glow of the fire. A soft streak of light highlighted his face. His hair was disheveled, contrasting with his usual spiked pompadour.

He looked content… almost ethereal, like some sort of celestial being. You approached slowly, to not startle him, “Hey there, Specs.”

He didn’t look surprised when he caught sight of you and simply said, “Care to join me?”

As he gestured towards the ground, you walked towards him and sat next to the small patch of grass he was patting.

Ignis shifted into a more comfortable pose before breaking the silence with his eloquence. “It’s not like you to be up so late…” Looking directly at the embers of the campfire, he continued. “Is something troubling you?”

“I could ask the same,” You tried to give him a smile despite the abrupt awkwardness in the silence.

For a short moment, Ignis said nothing. He kept his gaze firmly planted on the embers as they rose into the air. “It’s been difficult to fall asleep lately…” His voice softened, then so did his eyes as he looked at the sky.

A sigh left your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. “Same here… Something’s been on my mind.” You swallowed hard, almost too afraid to admit it.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, staring at the fire alongside him.

His gaze drifted from the stars, towards you, and settled on your face. It seemed as though he wanted to say something else but he refrained. He merely kept his eyes on you, a silent plea for you to continue.

So you did, “It’s about Noct…” you paused, taking a deep breath. “How much I care about him.”

Ignis observed your face, his eyes boring into yours, which somehow brought you comfort. He sighed quietly, “I think we all feel that way…” He glanced at the flames dancing in front of him.

After a few moments, his voice returned to normal, sounding distant. “Perhaps you shouldn’t dwell on your feelings… But don’t forget who you are. We will never lose Noctis, but we should not hold onto him so tightly.” A faint hint of concern shone briefly in his eyes. “We all love him…” Then he added in a softer tone, “even if he has trouble showing it in return.”

That statement gave you pause.

“That’s not what I meant-“ You said, trying to explain your point of view to him. But then you realized that you weren’t even sure what you meant. “I just… wish things were different.”

“You wish he would’ve chosen you instead of Lunafreya? You have feelings for him, do you not?” He interjected with utmost speed and punctuation.

You shook your head vehemently. “Not really. I mean, yes. Of course, I do. But that’s not the point.” Iggy’s glass fogged up with surprise, but it was only faint. “What exactly is the point of this talk, (Name)?”

“I don’t know…” You replied truthfully, looking anywhere but at him. Silence descended on the two of you again. You leaned backward until you were laying flat on your back, staring up at the black sky. You felt yellow all over, going stiff from the anxiousness.

Neither of you spoke until Ignis broke the silence once again. “Do you love Noct?” His emerald gaze fell upon you once more. The question caught you off guard not because of its nature, but because of his tone when he asked. He sounded anxious.

It sent a shiver down your spine, making you want to curl into yourself even further. You wondered if you should lie. “Well… I… uh…” Words wouldn’t come to you. Cottonmouthed, all you could manage was a defeated sigh. “Yes, I love him…”

At that simple answer, Ignis visibly relaxed, although you could tell the tension in his shoulders wasn’t entirely gone. “I see,” he muttered softly.

The fire was beginning to die out, getting dimmer and dimmer. “And yet, you do not pursue anything. What happens to the relationship between you and him if you keep waiting?” The fire cast eerie shadows over both of you; the flickering light made it seem like the two of you were facing each other.

You slowly rose back into a sitting position. “I want to tell him, I do. But…” You paused again. The words stuck in your throat.

“But I don’t think it would go well.” You balled up your fists against your leg, looking at the ground sheepishly.

Ignis draped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him. “A confession isn’t guaranteed to change the circumstances. All one can do is hope. That hope may be futile, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be attempted.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shrouding yourself in silence for yet another long moment. “How do you get to be so wise, Iggy?”

As expected, a warm chuckle escaped his lips. “Human nature I suppose.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before releasing his grip, “Though I’m not as knowledgeable as I seem.”

He turned his head slightly and looked at you. Although it might have looked innocent, it held the slightest trace of worry within it. “There are times when people need encouragement to make their way forward. And I am always here to assist.”

His expression softened, turning gentle.

You smiled weakly in response. Just after a while, he stood up from the ground, looking down at you and offering his hand. “Get some rest. Tomorrow might bring with it many chances for you.”

The next day, you woke up with a heavy feeling inside your chest. The sun shone brightly through the tent flap, painting everything orange and yellow.

It was a new day, and you were brimming with confidence thanks you Iggy’s encouragement.

Leaving the tent, you immediately searched for Noctis. Though he wasn’t at the camp when you searched around.

Noctis was sitting near the lake’s shore, holding a sword in the palm of his hand as he watched the water. He looked like he was roughed up pretty well; no doubt he was training with Gladio all morning.

Seemingly lost in thought, the prince had a vacant look on his face as though he was thinking deeply about something. Every so often his hand would run over the blunt end of the blade before looking at the lake once again.

His features were hardened by the reflection of the lake on his skin, shielding the scenery around him in a soft blue dye. His eyes were narrowed with a cold expression that gave you butterflies just by looking into them.

Hair disheveled, and skin covered in bruises, Noct managed to look as majestic as ever.

After a few moments of watching him silently, you took a deep breath and decided enough was enough. “Hey, Noct.” You greeted him in a cheery tone as you approached him.

At hearing your voice, Noctis looked up and blinked. “Hey,” he managed in an exhausted tone. There were dark rings under his eyes; not having gotten enough rest either. And didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk.

“Gladio beat your ass again?” You chuckled softly with an amused smile tugging at your lips as you crossed your arms.

Noct only scoffed and rolled his eyes at the comment, planting his sword on the ground. “Only cause he’s a monster. All about ‘power’ and ‘strength’… Stuff like that…” He groaned as he stood up, rubbing the hell out of his sore neck.

Stepping away from the rock you were just leaning on, you moved closer—leaving enough space between the two of you. “I could give you some pointers if you wanna try again-“ At the utterance of your suggestion, he cut your words short.

“Yeah right. I’m done.” He interjected almost comically, sitting on the grass and then falling onto his back. “I don’t think I can take any more of this.” He threw his arms out, causing the grass under his arms to rustle.

A small laugh escaped you as you sat beside him, looking up at the clouds in the sky, which appeared to be forming a perfect circle. “It’s only for a little while longer,” You turned to him with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Once you get married…“

Suddenly the air was taken from your lungs. Your body went rigid as the words registered in your brain. “Married…” You repeated much quieter; your mood turned sour.

Noctis seemed to sense your sudden shift, as his gaze shifted towards you, softening as he studied your reaction.

For a brief moment, you saw confusion and uncertainty flash across his face before he completed your statement. “Yeah… Once I marry Luna, we’ll have an advantage over the empire.” He raised a brow at you as if you weren’t already aware of the fact.

You swallowed hard, trying not to grimace from the embarrassment you felt at the moment. “Right…” You managed to breathe out, clearing your throat. “Then you’ll be leaving… With her?”

Noctis raised both brows and leaned in your direction. “Of course not. Where did you get that idea?” Even though he didn’t sound annoyed, but rather curious, it still caused you to shrink down a bit inside.

You looked away, avoiding his curious gaze. “Nothing... just wondering…” An intense amount of heat flowed to your face, making you sweat.

Silence engulfed the pair of you again, and tension continued to grow stronger by the minute. It didn’t help that tears were beginning to spill from your eyes, yet you didn’t know why.

“What’s wrong?” He prodded, scooting closer to examine you. However, you were afraid of what might happen if you looked back at him.

You sniffled, “Because…”

Your head hung low from the embarrassment you felt. Taking a moment to wipe your eyes until they turned dark and puffy, you sucked up every ounce of courage you had left, forcing out:

“Because I love you.”

Noct’s hitching breath was uncomfortably audible, “What?” He was taken aback by your words. His body went stiff as he sat there wide-eyed and genuinely surprised,

“You love me?” He repeated a soft utterance of your words, leaning back on his palms and continuing to look at you. “Like, really love me?”

You only managed to nod your head. A few more minutes of silence passed before you began to curl up into a ball.

“I know it makes no difference when I tell you,” Your eyes stayed fixed on the grass in front of you. You couldn’t stand to even imagine the look in his eyes anymore. “But I wanted to.”

He sighed, running his fingers over the grass as he stared straight at the lake, “I always saw us as just friends. You, me, and the guys…”

Visibly uncomfortable with his choice of wording, Noct searched for a better term for his feelings. “I like you all the same.”

“As friends…” You returned in a gloomy tone.

“No, more than that…” He shook his head and waves his hand out in front of him like he was denying your statement. With a frustrated grunt, he forced out the only thing he would think of:

“I love you as a family!”

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. The word “family” hit you right in the feels and almost brought fresh tears to your eyes, but the heartache was soon replaced with a wave of relief.

“That’s the only way I can say it,” Noctis showed a hint of remorse for making you feel upset. “Sorry…” His apology was genuine, though I necessary since he wasn’t at fault for anything.

“I’m sorry for getting all mopey…” You uttered in a quiet tone, calming yourself down until your breathing was even again. “I knew what to expect and shot for it anyway,” You laughed softly, wiping your tears on your sleeve.

You felt pathetic crying over something like this, but Noct was surprisingly understanding.

He stood up from the grass, offering a hand to you. You accepted it, allowing him to pull you up off the ground.

After brushing yourself off a bit, you glanced back up at Noct and saw that his arms were outstretched. An invitation for a hug—something he rarely ever did.

You took the chance, hugging him tight. Closing your eyes, you used the time to lean into him and let your bodies sync in both pulse and movement. You sighed,

“Thank you for listening.” You mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tighter with a tender embrace. He patted your back gently, saying nothing before pulling away.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he probably wanted to say something else but decided against it in the end. “You gonna be okay?” He asked awkwardly.

You nodded, “I think so.”

Walking back uphill to the haven, you noticed Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis packing up the camp as they prepared for the next voyage.

As they spotted you walking toward them, they waved excitedly, “Yo! You’ve been gone for a while now. Did something happen?” Prompto inquired, dropping everything as he faced you.

“Was just talking to Noct over there…” You pointed behind yourself, continuing to walk towards them.

As Ignis stepped away from his makeshift kitchen space, he stepped towards you cautiously. “How did It go?” He whispered, placing his arm on your back and leading you away from the earshot of the others.

“Guess.” You groaned, leaning into his touch; eventually pressing your forehead on the upper part of his shoulder.

“You knew what would happen and told me to talk to him anyway. You set me up.”

Though your tone was more playful than hurt, a small part of you regretted even confessing to Noct in the first place. If only Iggy never talked you into it.

You felt his hand travel up your back, slowly making its way to your head—where he stroked your hair softly. “My apologies… it is simply impossible for someone to predict what will happen in a situation such as this.”

His eyes seemed to smile at you, yet you could hardly tell through the tinted lens of his glasses.

Sighing, you closed your eyes tightly, feeling your stomach churning... “I knew how it would turn out, and still told him like an idiot…” You felt nauseous.

Ignis gave a soft chuckle, “Well… I’m sure he won’t hold it against you.” His tone was hopeful and gentle as he squeezed your shoulders lightly. He always tried his best to make you feel better.

You nodded absentmindedly. “Still sucks though.”

Ignis, still holding you close, brought you to his cooking space—he hadn’t finished packing it all up just yet. “It will get easier once you get used to it. If you need to talk, you know I’m always here.”

Your lips curved up a bit as you felt a warm feeling enveloping your chest. “Thanks.” You mouthed, stepping away from Ignis and taking a seat on a log.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you sit down, anticipating your next action behind a blank stare.

“Gonna join me, Specs?” Tapping the space on the log beside yourself, you gestured at him expectantly. Ignis looked over at where the others stood, who were doing well on their own, before nodding and following your instruction.

As soon as he was seated, you reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly. When you released it again, he looked down at his fingers and smiled faintly. The two of you sat together without saying anything, just enjoying a platonic moment of intimacy in silence.

The calm breeze gently blew through your hair, bringing with it a cool feeling, making you sigh content.

Once again you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. It did feel like Ignis was the only one in the group who truly understood you. You could tell him anything so easily and he would listen with or without reply.

He would just listen with patience and understanding. That alone made you believe he cared about you, which made it easy for you to trust him more and more.

With his hand wrapped around yours, Ignis continued to rub soothing circles on your wrist, hoping that it would calm your nerves a little more.

You closed your eyes, humming softly under your breath and letting out a long breath.

The two of you remained in silent comfort and warmth, enjoying each other’s company while being able to do nothing but enjoy it.

When the others started to make their way back to join you at the camp, neither of you made any move to get up.

Instead, Ignis kept looking at you and smiling fondly as he watched you relax further into him. His hand squeezed yours again as he turned his head to look up at the sky.

Your breathing was growing softer and eventually, you fell asleep right on his shoulder. With a soft chuckle, Ignis continued to hold you against him while uttering quietly to himself:

“I love you, (name).”

[actual-changeling]

i remember being in sixth grade when someone asked me for the first time why i am like this.

"you're like, alright. once someone gets used to you."

it wasn't a compliment and i did not take it as one, instead i tried to explain. too young and without the right words to describe my pain, it became the words i did know. it became my life.

"there's a wall," i said, "and i put spikes on it so whenever someone tries to get close, they pull their hand back and don't try again."

"why?"

i did not understand the question.

why.

because.

pain, i thought, was life. life is pain. hands are dangerous. bite or get bit.

i wanted to ask 'why don't you?' but we had reached our classroom, the break was over. children wouldn't understand, everyone always says, but what about the children that did not get a choice? what about the children who know but do not understand?

what about me?

years later, someone would ask me the same question again, and i had the words that time, i could have explained, could have shown them mark after mark, painted the world red just to make them understand.

it is always red to me, there's shadows in every corner and you do not see the blood trails leading to them. you do not see the warning signs in a world that is nothing but a collection of consequences.

because, i responded eventually, leaving it at that and smiling just enough to make people less scared of me. smiling to make sure they did not know how afraid i was of them.

now, years later, i can tell you what i refused to voice in a room dripping red.

because i need to protect what little is left of me.

because i was torn apart before i learned how to shape a single brick.

because i want to.

because i know what happens if i don't.

because i never had the words for my pain and so it ate me alive.

[illym]

“I’m afraid I don’t recall your name…?”

“I am Potemkin.” They stopped a few feet from her, allowing plenty of space. At xer blank expression, they added, “I work for President Gabriel of Zepp.” Xer face remained blank, and they slumped. “I’ve come to your house to convince you to move to Zepp… You once launched me half a mile with your hammer…”

“Ah. Erm. I’m sure our prior meetings were lovely…”

—

We meet Potemkin.

Chapter theme: Providence by Poor Man's Poison

—

“…Today really is absolutely gorgeous.” Taking a bite from the meat bun in xer hand, Sylv shaded her eyes as she looked up at the sky. “Sparingly clouded, and you can really feel the sunlight when you step into it.” It was bright blue the whole way to the edges of the horizon, the sort of uniformity that only happened in the middle of the day. The clouds floating within it kept the sun from bearing down too harshly.

“And… There we are.” In the distance was the only thing breaking up the perfect blue of the sky. Zepp was visible on the horizon, partially obscured by buildings. The country was large enough that if it were in the way of the sun, the people below wouldn’t get any direct light for days, if not a week.

Sylv wondered if the people in charge of its flight plans ever deliberately directed the country over the homes of people they disliked in order to ruin their day.

Maybe xe’d go up and ask one. It’d be a pain to find one, sure, but now that she thought of it xe desperately wanted to know the answer. She hadn’t been up in ages, and it was always better to negotiate material contracts on their home turf, so it wouldn’t be like she was only going to find out the answer to her question. They always had the best roasted nuts, too. Her mouth watered just thinking about them.

But it wasn’t worth going at this point in the day. Even with this city’s Zepp stop active, it’d take the better part of an hour to get up there, to say nothing of the line to get on the trams. The ticket prices, hotel prices, and food prices were nothing to laugh off. It just wouldn’t be worth getting up there after noon, considering it’d only give her a couple hours before necessitating a hotel room. Xe had a lunch packed from the run in with the restaurant owner, keeping those costs down, but the real wallet killer was finding a place to sleep. There were no options so high in the sky, and the hotel owners knew it. It’d be way too cold up there to consider sleeping outside to avoid the gouging, either.

Chewing hard on the soft bun, Sylv crossed the idea off. It just wasn’t worth it. Xe didn’t need anything from up there, and even if it were early in the morning she would’ve wanted the time to prepare. It really wasn’t worth it. Not worth it at all.

She took another bite of the bun. It was so soft. It practically melted in her mouth.

…Xe would beat someone for roasted nuts.

“Hm? Sylv Clayflower, is that you?”

“AAAAAGH!” Sylv jerked at the interruption, the sudden noise making her pulse spike. Whirling around, xe pulled xer hammer to a protective position. “Wha— who—!”

The giant down the street raised their hands, fingers splayed out as if to show they held nothing. “I apologize for surprising you. I didn’t intend to.”

“N…No…” Sylv waved to them, dropping her hammer and pressing xer hand to xer chest. “I was… It wasn’t your fault. Don’t take any blame.” Waiting for him to step closer, she continued speaking. “I’m afraid I don’t recall your name…?”

“I am Potemkin.” They stopped a few feet from her, allowing plenty of space. At xer blank expression, they added, “I work for President Gabriel of Zepp.” Xer face remained blank, and they slumped. “I’ve come to your house to convince you to move to Zepp… You once launched me half a mile with your hammer…”

“Ah. Erm.” Sylv squeezed her hands together. The offer to move to Zepp rung a bell, but none of the surrounding context was coming back. “I’m sure our prior meetings were lovely…”

The person let out a sigh. “I take that to mean you haven’t considered it, then.”

“Ah… No. I can’t say that I have.”

“…Let’s have a match.” They looked her in the eyes, face serious. “If I win, will you give working in Zepp a trial run?”

Sylv’s eyes widened. “I…”

“No strings attached, and it wouldn’t go on for more than a year.” They spread their hands out in front of them in a welcoming gesture.

Pulling at xer hair, Sylv took a moment to respond. “…If I win, can I have free transit to and from Zepp? It’s so expensive to get to wherever you’re docked, let alone the price to get up and down…”

“I can promise that.”

HEAVEN OR HELL.

Sylv held her hand out, the other placed loosely upon xer waist. “I look forward to seeing how you fight.”

Potemkin put his collar on, adjusting it to fit snugly. “Let’s finish this well.”

LET'S ROCK.

Potemkin thrust an arm out, smashing against Sylv’s hastily erected guard and pushing xem back a pace. He followed with a kick that failed to land, Sylv hopping back well out of range.

“You’re as light on your feet as ever.” He twisted his foot, stones breaking off the cobblestone as his heel pressed down.

“In comparison, or in general?” Dashing forward a pace, xe pulled her hammer from the air, twisting xer whole body to move with the motion.

Dropping to an immediate crouch, Potemkim threw out his hand. “Speed isn't the only thing that makes a fight, however.” He flicked his finger.

Magic burst from his hand, sparkling across the space between them. The moment it hit xer hammer, it threw itself backwards as if its momentum had been wholly reversed.

“Shit—!” Sylv twisted to follow, too surprised to drop it and grip too sturdy for it to wretch itself from xer grasp.

Potemkin took advantage of the blatant opening, jabbing out with an open palm to smack Sylv in the side. Kicking up a foot, it lifted Sylv in the air, just high enough to him to handchop xem in the torso, sending her flying back.

Crashing against the side of a building, Sylv hung there for a long moment. Crumpling to the floor, xe didn't move.

“I know that wasn't enough to finish you off.” Potemkin advanced slowly, shaking the earth.

“Mmmmmmy fucking… everything.” Wretching a cough, Sylv rolled to a ready position. “Fuck. You hit hard. I'll try not to let that happen again.”

“It's standard tactics to try not to get hit.”

“Okay, well— I'll try harder than usual.” Tensing, xe shot up from the ground, launching over Potemkin’s head and swinging xer hammer to crack into the backs of his fingers. Fingers forced down, he aborted his grab attempt. Landing, xe jumped back a pace, scrutinizing him. “Make it more important. Is that good enough?”

Turning on his heel, Potemkin flicked his finger again, the magic spluttering out before it reaches Sylv. Xe jumped back anyway, clutching xer hammer warily. “It's less important to me than to you. It's rather to my benefit if you forget, in fact.”

“Why would you remind me?” Sylv's mind flew through all her options, flitting from one to the next in a matter of moments. She couldn't get in close; he'd absolutely cream xem. Throwing her hammer would work, but xe had to admit the idea of him throwing it back twice as hard was horrific. Both because of the physical pain and the emotional pain of him touching it.

“For a fight like this, there's little point in winning if you're that far off your game.” The man chuckled, stepping forward. “If I cannot win when you use all of the options available to you, it won't feel as if I won at all.”

Every one of Sylv's neurons snapped to one single thought.

‘If I can't beat him up close, I'll have to beat him at a distance.’

Whirling xer hammer, she slammed its head against the stone pavement. “Let's change it up!”

One moment the item in her hands was a giant hammer; in the next, a giant gun-cannon. Heaving it to rest on her shoulder, a broad grin overtook xer face. “Let's make some fireworks.”

Twisting xer heel to anchor against the floor, xe gripped the handle and pulled the trigger.

A huge bullet exploded out in a burst of colors, shooting right for Potemkin. It hit its mark, blowing the man back. Clanging her bracelet against the barrel, xe squeezed the trigger again, releasing another.

“This is new.” Potemkin threw up his arm, grimacing as the bullet sank in.

“I like fighting on the ground my opponent uses.” Hitting xer hammer with her bracelet against, xe reset her stance. “No fun to just shoot you from ten paces away if you've got no way to respond.”

“Why did you bring it out now?” Potemkin threw out another finger flick.

“I really want that transit pass.”

Anchoring her heel against the earth, xe pressed her finger against the barrel as xe held the trigger down. “Here's a fun one!” A long moment later, a ball shot out from the barrel, narrowing down on Potemkin.

It hit, and it exploded.

Coughing, Potemkin brought his hand up to cover his face. “What kind of—?”

Sylv cut through the smoke, whirling xer hammer. “You're in for a hit.” Its face smashed Potemkin in his, forcing the man to the ground.

He jolted off the ground, and xe swung her hammer again, forcing him higher in the air. Letting her hammer flash away in a burst of red, xe punched him in the chest a few times, following up with an elbow jab right in the stomach.

Ducking to the floor, xe swept a leg out, knocking him away and to the floor.

Potemkin pushed himself to his feet, sweat trickling into his eye. “You—”

Sylv's hammer smashed into him, spinning around and around rapidly. The hammer mashed into his stomach. A moment passed. He flew off, blasting up and away until his flight was cut short by crashing into a nearby building, falling to the ground with bricks landing on top of him.

SLASH!

Sylv stepped forward, extending an arm straight out to the side with the other held in front of her waist. She bowed neatly, hair tickling xer cheeks.

“That was thrilling. I’m glad we fought.”

Standing straight again, Sylv clapped. “That free transit is mine!”

Potemkin stood slowly, groaning. “Can I ask why you’re so reluctant to come to Zepp? We were willing to pay relocation fees, and you would receive sizable benefits working here. Working with Black Technology outside of Zepp can be… Difficult.”

“Mmmm.” Sylv chewed on xer lip. “I… During our fight, I recalled a bit more of your original offer. I remember that I did consider it for a bit. But…” Xe flexed her hands. “The fact that… The difficulty in…” Xe blew out air. “It… I… It feels like I’m trapped. Or, it would, if I lived here.” Sylv shrugged. “Or maybe I wouldn’t. I don’t know. Maybe I’d be fine. But, for now, no matter how much you wish for me to come here permanently… I’m afraid I must decline. I’m always available for commissioned work, though.”

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Privately, Potemkin couldn’t understand her feelings at all. If she felt trapped on an airship this large… A fear that irrational, he doubted they could ever convince xem to work in Zepp. “If you ever change your mind…” He handed two cards over, comically small in his hands.

“Ah.” Sylv peered at them as xe took them, tucking the first in her jacket. “A business card. Here's mine.” Xe pulled out one of her own, passing it over. Peering at the second one, xe looked back up at him. “And what’s this one?”

“A temporary pass. It will get you to Zepp until I get you a personalized pass.” Potemkin tucked her card into his pocket. “It should arrive within a week or two.”

“Excellent. That works well for me.” Nodding, xe pressed it into her wallet. “Thank you.”

“I hope to see you again.” Potemkin turned to go. “And…” He turned back. “Try not to forget my name.”

“Ah. My apologies.” Sylv ran a hand through her teal hair, flustered. Potemkin disappeared down a street, and Sylv waited one-two-three-four seconds before throwing xer arms out.

“Yes! Woo! Nice!” Bouncing on xer heels, a smile spread across xer face. “I’m so excited! This is great. Fantastic. Useful! I’m gonna be able to go up there way more often! I should do something to celebrate!”

—

Potemkin is hard to write because he's so incredibly normal and well adjusted (relative to the rest of the cast). Any other character in his position would grab Sylv by the shoulders and start carting her off, and he just goes "Well, damn.". If Gabriel was deeply serious about getting all Black Technology workers up to Zepp, it would of course be a different matter.

Like it or not, it's been almost 200 years since the Dawn of Revival; nobody really remembers why it's banned, only that it is. Gabriel is willing to do some nasty things to keep his people and the world safe, but forced abduction of a tinkerer with little ambition is something he doesn't want to fall to.

...Does Sol even know why Black Tech is banned? We all assume he made a record player with magic, but maybe the guy doesn't know. Asuka visits him in dreams to say "Uh Fred... Please don't use that..." And Sol spits on him and goes to build a motorcycle.

Slayer probably knows, but he probably believes in the individual over the government. He seems like that kind of guy. Sharon actively encourages people to get into Black Tech.

Asuka certainly isn't spreading the good word.

[gaasuba]

The Fine Line Between Sacred And Profane

Tags: Fluff. Comfort. Gayatri needs and gets a hug

Preview: "Miles..." Gayatri's voice is quiet, and she sounds uncertain as she looks at her lap. It's so unlike her. Pavitr grips Miles' hand tightly as they wait for her to continue. "Do you and the others... not like me?"

Link to AO3

Miles barely manages to not stumble when he lands on the other side of the portal in 50101. He hasn't seen Pavitr in so long, both of them busy with school work, but now that it's summer break he can pop in unannounced without worry! Or.... Almost without worry. His excited grin falters when he sees Gayatri's startled expression. Of course he forgot to check if she was here. He feels incredibly embarrassed by his lack of consideration. She and Pavitr are sitting like they were just having tea together.

"Oh! H-hey you guys. I'm sorry. Is this a bad time? I can... go..." he says awkwardly, pointing back at where his portal just closed.

"Of course not!" Pavitr shouts, ecstatic to see him after being apart for so long. He does a flip over the kitchen table between them then pulls Miles into a tight hug, lifting him and spinning a full 360 on his heel, "I've missed you so much!" Miles laughs and hugs back just as tight, briefly reassured by Pavitr's words, but when he glances at Gayatri she still seems upset.

"Miles..." Gayatri's voice is quiet, and she sounds uncertain as she looks at her lap. It's so unlike her. Pavitr grips Miles' hand tightly as they wait for her to continue. "Do you and the others... not like me?"

"Gayatri, no!" Pavitr answers instinctually, but the unexpected question leaves Miles stunned for a moment. "Why would you think that!?" Bless Pav for asking what he's thinking.

"Everyone seems kind of... afraid of me?" As she speaks, Pavitr lets go of Miles' hand and runs the short distance back to the table to hold her's instead. "Everyone seems so disappointed to see me when they show up unannounced. Like you did just now." Her words along with the crack in her voice make their hearts ache. Pavitr sits to pull her into a firm hug from her side and she leans into it. "Even Hobie, who's usually so affectionate with all of their friends, they still keep their distance... At first I thought it was maybe just that I'm a celebrity. I'm used to that!" her voice spikes near the end but lowers again as she continues, her tears finally spilling over, "I thought if I was patient you would all get over it and I could finally be a proper part of everything, but-"

"I think you're amazing!" Miles blurts out, cutting her off and causing her to look up at him in surprise. He kind of surprised himself.

"Then why...?"

Pavitr starts fidgeting with his watch to send a group message.

"Because you're so cool and beautiful and... You!" Miles gestures at her as if that makes his language failure make more sense, and he can feel his face grow hot in embarrassment. "Pav is so crazy lucky to have you, and...!" He pauses to get his volume back under control, "and you've been so chill about the whole polyamory thing. None of us wanted to mess that up by being too much, you know?" Gayatri looks like she's going to cry harder. Miles' watch beeps with his notification for the cule's group chat and resists checking it, figuring it must be what Pavitr was typing.

"So... So you've just been trying to be polite? All this time??" A portal opens before Miles can answer, it's art style obvious, and Hobie shoots out of it, landing more gracefully than Miles had.

"So what's the emer-"

Pavitr interrupts them by quickly snatching up Gayatri and shoving her into their arms, startling them both. Then he steps back, covering his mouth and nose like he's praying the hug will cure her of a deadly poison and barely believes it's possible.

"So... what's all this then?" Hobie asks, holding Gayatri at the hight he had handed her to them, and Pavitr briefly uncovers his mouth to answer.

"Gayatri thinks you hate her!" he shouts, then returns his hands to his face.

"I think," Miles continues uncertainly, "I think she's wanted to be a part of the cule ever since Pavitr joined." Hobie's eyes widen, their brow furrows, and they hug Gayatri tighter.

"Every movie night," Gayatri says, her voice muffled by Hobie's shoulder as she hugs them under their battle jacket, "you get comfortable with someone in your lap." Her breath hitches before she continues, "Anyone but me." There's a brief silence filled with nothing but Gayatri's sob and attempts to catch her breath. In that moment, Gwen's portal appears and she leaps out gracefully.

"What's the emergency??"

"Emergency movie night," Hobie replies curtly, walking past her as they lift Gayatri's legs to hold her proper, then shifting their full attention to her. "You got a regular comfort show, love?" She nods against their shoulder. "You got that then, Pav?" they ask a bit louder while Miles and Gwen follow attentively behind, not wanting to miss a moment they might be needed.

"Of course!" Pavitr replies, rushing past them all to start setting up.

[aromaticpetals]

I was gonna send this without being an anon but then i thought about it and realized there is absolutely no way im letting anybody see my depravity when i dont even have a side account lmao

How are you doing on this fine day? I hope you are well. I saw the request thing and decided to submit a little something.

If you do afab!reader×male character, may I reuqest a size difference+wedding night/breeding kink hc with itto, ayato and thoma (seperately)? I tried to write it myself before but it ended horribly 💅

- 💫 anon

AHHHHHH TYSM FOR BEING MY 1ST REQUEST 💫 ANON!!!!

To answer your question, I'm doing okay! My cat has been a bit chaotic tho..

I'll be honest, I've never considered doing reader x male char. cause Idk what I'm doing half the time if it has nothing to do with women😭 But I can at least try! (I did get the headers done so I might as well at this point and Idek if it can be considered a hc..) Btw, I was laughing my ass off while making this cause it don't rlly make sense

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎! Size diff and breeding 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀.. 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 too! IT'S JS 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒😭 (Possibly not suitable for those under the legal age!)

𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙊 was proud to have caught such a beaut' like you, let alone marry ya! Of course, Shinobu gave you an entire book on how to care for Itto, she called it the "Boss's baby rules" since, well.. He did act like a man-child from time to time... But let's put that fact aside! The whole gang was happy that their boss got married to someone like you! (Without you by Itto's side, he probably would have gotten into 𝘸𝘢𝘺 more trouble with Kujou Sara..)

It was the night of y'all getting married and you couldn't lie, you were as happy as the Archons would let you be, although Itto had been acting a little.. Off? Fortunately, your now husband had managed to snap you out of your thoughts by bringing you his signature dish and announcing it with his loud vocals. "𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙖 𝙜𝙤, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚! 𝘼𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙉𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙐𝙣𝙤 𝙄𝙩𝙩𝙤'𝙨 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝, 𝙒𝙖𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜!" he proudly stated, handing you the plate before taking a seat next to you on your shared futon. You immediately pushed all second thoughts away as the savory scent of the dish filled your nostrils, trying to decide whether you should've scarfed it down or not. As he watched you eat, you could've sworn you saw a certain glint in his eyes! Unfortunately for you, you should've known that on the night of getting married to him, he'd want to do some rather.. Energy draining activities!

Just a few moments later: you laid there on the futon, stripped of both your dignity and clothing, he stared down at your small form with a.. lustful glint in his eyes. Before you knew it, you were seated in his naked lap, feeling his hardened member press against your rear as he whispered sweet words into your ear, his large hands almost touching when he wrapped them around your waist! You couldn't help the feeling that darted downwards to the area between your legs as he continued with his sweet words and light touches, making it seem as though he was afraid you'd break if he were to tighten his grip.. You could feel yourself getting wetter bit by bit, his words making you feel as though you were going to turn into a flustered and worked-up mess! Just as you were about to shift to get comfy, he quietly growled in your ear, saying "Don't move, babe, let me do all the work..". Of course, you hadn't expected him to lift you up and hover you over his member after he had said that, making you realize that it had spikes on it.. (You had completely forgotten that you were dating an Oni, not some douchebag that paid you to sleep with him-) Now, of course, in public he was the coolest dude you had ever dated! But behind closed doors, he was actually such a pure sweetheart.. As you got stuck in your thoughts, you were unaware that he forced you onto the tip of his member, the stretch tossing your thoughts into the gutter once more as you let out a small squeak, shifting in his lap to try and adjust. Your welcoming walls and small size didn't help, encouraging him to push you down until you took in half of his girth, all while staring at you with a predatorial look in his eyes. Said look reminded you of something, he was capable of feeling like he had to breed his lovers- Of course, you didn't mind having a child or two with him despite the fact that they would've been influenced by his pranks. You heard him growl again, this time a bit louder as he pushed you down until your walls reached their stretching limit, the soft spikes on his member giving friction with each little move you made! It made you think of how you somehow took the entire thing on several occasions without bursting into tears at the painful stretch.. He immediately flipped you onto your back and started slowly moving his hips back and fourth once he felt that you had adjusted enough for him to move, the spikes on his member dragging along your walls with each agonizingly slow thrust. "Itto, go faster.." you managed to speak out with a quiet tone. "Just a moment, babe, gotta make sure you're well prepared for the night of a lifetime I'm about to give ya.." he replied, quietly grunting as your walls clamped down on his member over and over again, causing him to speed up a bit. As he dug his freshly manicured nails into your waist (YES I GAVE HIM BLACK MANICURED NAILS SHHH) while thrusting into you at a steady pace, you whined and moved yours hips to meet his halfway, tired of him not getting rough like he would on any other occasion. As if he read your mind, he went a whole lot faster, making your brain spin and soft moans spill out of your mouth with each thrust. You couldn't help that it felt so good you kept clamping down on him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge as his grunts and growls got louder and louder, prompting you to stare at him with wide eyes and a lip wedged between your teeth. (You had no clue he could get that loud and not be ashamed of it, y'all were lucky that y'all didn't live near other people otherwise they would've had to suffer through the noise-) When you noticed the twitching within you and the small "gonna cum.."s that slipped from his lips, he moved your limbs so he could have you in a mating press before he came in you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. After, he slowly pulled out, flopping onto the futon next to you and immediately falling asleep. You were happy, but Archons did you not know that this would happen every night from that point on. (I HAVE TO FINISH THE REST OF IT IN A DIFF POST, IM SO SRRY 💫 ANON 😭)

[scarredwoods]

Since Leo is your favorite obviously lol! What’s your opinion on Raph for 03 and 12

Haha, so fun fact, Raph actually used to be my favorite until Leo took over first place when I got older

Out of all the turtles, Raph became one of my first fictional crushes (plus one of my gay awakenings) when I was a kid, but I'll gladly still answer that question

(Warning, it's a bit long and has episode spoilers)

I was born in 2004, but I did grow up with 03 because I found all the episodes free on YouTube one day and continuously binge watched them while also watching 2012 at the same time. While I resonated with Leo a lot now because of the oldest sibling syndrome, Raph was the one who captured my young little heart with how cool he was.

12Raph: He's a sassy fucker who won't waste an opportunity to say something snippy towards one of his brothers. 1st episode immediately showed that when Leo was talking out loud so Snake could hear them talking. Although Raph followed his lead, he couldn’t help himself but make fun of him during the interaction and put the blame on Leo on how Snake got away. He's a very fleshed out character with multiple flaws that all tie together with his character. Despite the discussion of his anger issues having their own episodes, sometimes I wish the writers actually had Splinter show him or give him private lessons on how to control his anger instead of having everyone around him tell him that he needs to control it and how it's getting in the way of their team/mission. Sure Splinter gave him a breathing exercise, but that was a bout it, and Raph barely ever uses it in the show.

Thankfully, the show didn't make it seem like anger was his only personality and made an effort to show the audience that he had a kind and softer side using the animals around him like Spike, the roof pigeons, and Chompy. Also, Raph getting a girlfriend and Mona Lisa coming back was one of the best decisions the writers ever did. To me, they are the definition of ship so good, even the gays love it. I love Mona Lisa to death, and I love her relationship with Raph. They are truly meant for each other. *chefs kiss*

Overall, I give 12Raph 8.5/10, the writers giving Raph a bug phobia was so funny bit very fitting that tough guy like him is afraid of a tiny bug

03Raph: Where do I start. Obviously, gotta start with the obvious and put out how sassy he is. This guy will not hesitate to make a sarcastic comment even in the most dangerous of situations. I see it as his personal comedic relief. Yeah, he has a short temper, everyone knows that, but he only lashes it out to people his age or older people he knows can take it. But when it comes to little kids and animals, he'll be patient for as long as he needs to. It's clear that his tough guy persona is a shield to protect himself from all backlash of being a mutant turtle in a human populated place where he knows he will never be accepted. Yet when he finds people who do, he puts the shield down and lets himself let loose. The obvious example of this is with the old lady who mistook him for the neighbor's son. Yeah, Raph needed to get away from the purple dragons, but he could've easily left once the coast was clear. Instead, he stayed and helped the old lady and took the time to enjoy his break from the shield. He even came back to give her a briefcase filled with money after hearing how she was losing her apartment.

The guy loves his family and even drops the shield during moments where he thinks he's about to lose one o le if something serious happens to them. He was even one of the first people to notice Leo changing because of how similar he was acting to himself.

A thing that the writers did a good job here is during the episode when they addressed his anger issues (after almost bashing Mikey with a pipe) and finally resolved it in the end, the character development stuck with him. Which I'm really glad. Cause honestly, it's tiring when shows show that a character is getting better from something, only for it to be forgotten in the next episode.

Overall, this Raph gets a 9/10, especially because I love it when he laughs

Sorry if this was long, but I love yapping when someone gives me the opportunity to. If you have any more questions for me, please ask, I'll answer all :)

[wetcatspellcaster]

Hi! Sorry to bother you again, I'm the one who asked you a while ago if it was okay to ask for some tips on writing dialogue. Thank you so much for your availability and time 🙇‍♀️ I'm mostly curious about how you structure your dialogues and how you manage to build chemistry between the characters through banter. Do you follow a particular set of rules or does it just come natural to you? You write so many ideas and cool dialogues, how do you manage to come up with so many? In general, if you have any tips for a fledgling "writer", they are super welcome. No pressure, of course, I really don't want to intrude/steal your time. P.s. I forgot last time to tell you that I also really loved your AU fic, Party Favours. I was hooked from the first lines and I had so much fun reading it. It was a really comforting and entertaining read, like drinking a hot chocolate in winter. Honestly, thank you so much for gifting us with such a warm and funny story. 🥰☕

Hey! Thank you for being so nice about my writing and the strengths you think I have - I didn't know I had them, so it was interesting to see my work from someone else's perspective.

And also don't worry, it's not a bother to answer this question. Although I'm not sure how helpful I'll be as I have no formal training and that might mean my explanations aren't useful!!

I'll try to answer as best I can :)

I don't really have rules for chemistry, I'll be honest, but my favourite dynamic (as is fucking obvious from many a fic I've written) is overconfident flirt/straight-laced practical killjoy. Luckily for me... there are a lot of these in media (Howl/Sophie, Tamaki/Haruhi, certain flavours of Buffy/Spike, Jude/Cardan from The Cruel Prince, Labyrinth fanfiction, whatever was going on with Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries)! So I guess, if I was to give advice on that... I'd say if you really like a certain dynamic, go and look for examples of how they work elsewhere. Work out what it is about the pairing that makes your brain itch, or examine how these characteristic interactions play out, if there's any kind of formula to them - for instance, in Party Favours, the bit where Astarion is actively and overconfidently faking while talking to Threnn while Rose gets more and more flustered, was based partly on a fake relationship episode of Buffy lol. Like I didn't copy it word for word or anything, but it was an idea I saw elsewhere that I knew would be good for the pairing. .

Coming up with ideas... again, idk how idiosyncratic my process is. I maladaptive daydream a lot, and I really like scripting arguments (see above about what dynamics in fiction work for me, lmfao). i just love to hallucinate bickering, apparently. If I have any lines of dialogue that occur to me in any situation, I tend to put them into my notes app on my phone, to revisit later. If I have a scene with a particular purpose, I might look through my dialogue on my phone and try to find a series of quotes that work. Other times the maladaptive daydream for a few days might be the scene, and I'll write down any notes on what I want to happen and let it percolate for a few days before I actually write it. Sometimes pieces of dialogue will come to me before the scene does - Astarion's speech in chapter 7 of pieces happened before any of the rest of the fic, and then I was like "fuck. well. now i've got to get myself there." Mostly, this seems to just be a result of having these people live in my head rent free, but I'm also pretty autistic and so I script conversations a lot in social interactions anyway. .

Dialogue. I think dialogue comes naturally to me (see above comment about autism) and as such, I don't really follow any strict rules, I'm afraid... but these are some things I do formally try to do-

If a person is talking at someone (again, see how much I fucking love writing people bickering), you need to make sure it's not just a wall of text. Adding in paragraph breaks, even if it's a monologue, is kind of essential (speaking as someone who did not do this in the beginning, and it shows, particularly when you're reading my earlier fic on mobile rather than desktop). Often I will break it up with a one sentence interjection, a false start from the other person trying to get a word in edgeways, or a stage direction. I had a problem with one pairing I wrote for where one of the characters just would never speak... I needed to engineer lines for him to say even if it was completely superfluous. Sometimes, now I look at my writing, I feel like these are obviously fake and unnecessary... but they help break up the text and give the reader pauses. So they must be helpful, even if they're kind of just... there. it makes the dialogue a dialogue, with two people involved and reacting to each other. -

Similarly, speeding stuff up can be useful when creating banter, to keep pace and avoid people monologuing at each other. The key ways I tend to speed stuff up is usually a) characters finishing each other's sentences (derogatory or affectionate), b) interrupting each other (you'll notice my repeated 'Astarion-' is often used to get Astarion to just talk quicker and at more length and in more detail until Rose loses her goddamn mind), c) quicker back and forth where you don't need dialogue tags or stage directions bc characteristic voices will make it clear who is speaking. -

I read everything aloud as I post. This is how I proofread. Reading aloud helps me find spelling errors/sentence errors, but it also means that I have to speak all my dialogue aloud to my own wall like a crazy person. If I'm speaking it aloud in a different way, like the phrasing changes subconsciously to what's more natural in my mouth, I will often edit the dialogue to reflect that. I speak it, to see how it is spoken. -

Second to the above point, if you have a character who's voice you struggle with, listen/watch clips of their voice. I do not think I can write Lae'zel (or Gale tbh, and I'm now writing a whole fic from his pov so I clearly hate myself). I watch back clips of them all the time, and then I go to my dialogue, and see if I can hear it in their voice. If I can, I keep it. -

...Be brave enough to tell jokes. I genuinely can't tell you how much I don't think I'm funny. Every joke I write in my fic, I have no idea if anyone else will enjoy it, or if it only makes me laugh. But I put it in there, for me. I'm lucky, bc now some people tell me they found a joke amusing, and I'll know it landed with someone else other than me. But you tell jokes with your friends, presumably, and you're playful with them. So allow your characters to joke with each other, even if you're scared that no one else will 'get it'. If no one else finds it funny, at least the characters are having fun! -

Anyway, those are my main 'tips', I don't know if any of them are helpful!!

My other one main piece of advice is... read. Seriously. Even if the media you want to write for isn't a literary novel, read other people's writing, and I do mean both fic and published books, because published books (if they're good) have an editor. I read a lot of books/webtoons/manga before I ever wrote a fic... like for 12 years or something. I was a big reader, and reading good writing is useful - it's inspiring, it's also just technically helpful. These writing tips might be useless, because lot of what I've done in my own writing I've learned through osmosis - just by reading a fuck tonne of books, good and bad. I'm not saying you have to read 60 books a year or w/e, but read like, a few good books!

(also, just write a bunch. I am only becoming a 'read' fic author on my 11th project??? basically??? so I've had a lot of practice at this point, and grown in confidence. The more things you finish, the more ambitious you get. I couldn't have conceived of Pieces when I was writing my first fanfic, bc I thought plot was my main weakness... now I'm writing an almost entirely original premise and that's bc I've learned a lot since I started writing!)

[christinesficrecs]

Pardon me if this is a dumb question.. but I recently discovered that there are audio fanfics on a03. Have you discovered any Sterek fanfics that you love in this format?

You're hilarious! 😂 Y'all meet my beautiful daughter Jess ❤️

There is a podfic tag here. And also these great classics.

Podfic: Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by striped_bowties | 2 Hours | Text

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world’s cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy—the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

[Podfic] Introduction to Zero-Sum Anthropology by kellifer_fic | 1 Hour | Text

Stiles buys Derek a set of cooking spoons. Derek retaliates with lunch. The war begins.

[Podfic] Fly a Little Faster by Audio2Rainbow | 3 Hours | Text

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain? Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

Cupboard Love by Mklutz [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea) | 3 Hours | Text

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

Alpha Spikes by Starbeast [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea) | 7 Hours | Text

Alphas are like royalty and are offered their choice of any age eighteen-and-up virgin Omega for each year's heat season, as a 'thank-you' to all they've done for their compounds throughout the year. Derek is an Alpha and...yeah, Stiles. Stiles is an Omega. And still a virgin. In every way. And he's just turned eighteen. This...is not his day.

[Podfic] Gravity's Got Nothing on You by roseszain | 10 Hours | Text

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

[spikedsoul]

maid's worst nightmare - ch 18

damn, can't believe i'm roughly 27k words into this story and not only has it only been 3 days, but also no actual romance yet. hope y'all like slow burns...

previous chapters

@sovereign-of-succ

On one hand, your fingers were sore already, but on the other hand, the heel of your palm was getting tired from constantly kneading. You were working on the spaces between the uppermost spikes on his back, your whirlwind thoughts interrupted by how it seemed like you just barely started. You pulled your hands away, not for the first time, and stuck them in the warm water for a bit of relief.

"Again?" Bowser snorted. "Thought you were a handmaid."

"Which is a fancy name for a personal maid waiting on royalty - I'm not a masseuse," you retorted.

His head tilted slightly in what you could only assume was an exaggerated eye roll. Without another word, he shifted a bit and grabbed your hands; you squeaked softly as he pulled your chest to the edge of the tub. Instead of pulling you in, though, like you'd briefly feared, he took each of your hands in his massive paws and started to lightly massage your fingers and palms.

You flushed in embarrassment, but didn't pull away.

"What're you–"

"Hush. Let's make a deal, hm? I can get the lower half of my back without help, so you just finish up between the next set. But when I get out you oil my whole back down to my tail. It's not as intensive and you'll get a handy little cloth, like you're just wipin' off a kitchen counter really well. I may or may not make you comb my mane, too." He leaned his head back and turned to face to the side so you could meet his eyes, his big mitts still steadily massaging your hands.

The sigh you let out was a little more dramatic than it needed to be but you nodded. "Alright. Deal. I'm more used to doing laundry or sewing or cooking, not massaging a giant…" His eyes narrowed a little, warning you to be careful of your next word. You swallowed just a bit. "...Reptile," you finished.

He scoffed, "No shit? The fact you took like five breaks didn't tip me off or nothin'."

"Oh shut up," you muttered.

He finally let go of your hands, and you had to admit they felt much better. Well, you wouldn't admit that out loud to him, but it was a definite relief; you missed the way his nostrils flared and contracted as he turned his back fully to you again.

He hunched his shoulders a bit and leaned forward a little so you could access what little you had left of his skin to work on. You got to it without further complaint, kneading the soap into his skin as best you could, quietly enjoying how you could feel his quiet rumbling traveling up your arms from his back. It was almost like a cat's purr, honestly.

By the time you finished the last bit, your hands were sore again, but instead of complaining you just washed your hands free of the soap. No words were exchanged between the two of you as you took your leave of the bathroom and he moved to finish up what you hadn't done.

You almost, almost, went to peek your head back in when you heard him grumble to himself. However, you were quick to reason that if he'd wanted to say something or had an issue, he'd bring it up with you to your face. He wasn't exactly afraid to speak his mind, after all. Soon enough, Bowser was ambling his way from the bathroom with a few things clutched in his right hand: another bottle, a soft-looking cloth, and a comb.

"Remember - down to my tail," he instructed, pushing the items into your chest. You jerked your hands up to grab them before anything fell.

"Yes, your beastliness," you mumbled. He snorted softly and you waited until he turned his back to you to smile a bit. "Um, this is an awfully small bottle…"

"A little goes a long way, 'specially with that rag," Bowser replied. "Just put a little on and work until the sheen isn't getting applied anymore. Easy."

The genuine instructions were appreciated after the snarky bath you had to endure, but it left you with a question.

"So I really am just wiping you down like a wooden table?"

"You got it, little lady. Then just a brief comb through my mane, and after that you're done for the evening." He settled on his stomach with his chin on the pillow and his hands slipped under to help support his head. His knees splayed out to the side a little, like a monitor lizard or crocodilian, and you found that a little amusing.

For now, you set the comb on the bedside table closest to you, then moved to start on his left side. You dabbed a little of the oil on the cloth and started with his neck once again; sure enough, there was a noticeable sheen that stuck to his skin after just one pass. You opted to work the rag in circles to better and more evenly spread the oil. Just the little bit you used covered his whole neck, his shoulder, and just under the first couple of spikes. You had to move the spikes yourself but they weren't hard to handle.

Although it had been your decision to be thorough and rub down to the middle of his sides too, a blush crept into your cheeks as you worked lower; you'd basically railroaded yourself into swiping the rag over his hip. Despite his tummy, his hips were still relatively pronounced, and you were forced to reckon with the fact that he pretty much was all muscle - even that belly of his.

Bowser effectively had the physique of a power lifted.

…No wonder it had been so tough to massage him. Also, you could kill yourself for having this revelation because it was what got you into Rodney in the first place.

What could you say? You appreciated guys that could lift cars. It was just unfortunate that you realized this about King Bowser, your captor, who would eventually be giving you back to Princess Peach you hoped. And it wasn't like you actively sought Rodney out - you knew very well how to appreciate from a distance, but the man had seen you look one too many times and became rather persistent getting you to date him. He was sweet at first, as most abusers are, and by the time he'd shown his true colors it was too late.

You didn't intend to make that mistake again.

Your hand brought the cloth up underneath that last middle spike, over the divot at the base of his tail, and a tiny movement brought your careening thoughts to a crashing halt. Sure you had been mistaken, you repeated the action. But there it was again: his tail arched up a little at the base.

"Don't do that, you weirdo," you frowned.

"Do what?" he huffed. "Far as I know I didn't do anything."

"You're arching your tail like a damn cat when I get near the base," you stated. "So stop. It's weird."

His spikes clacked softly against each other as they briefly raised just a little and lowered again in a small wave. It was like he had to fight to keep them down, and you remembered Ludwig mentioning they were a tell of his.

"Then don't - if you don't wanna see it, just skip that part," he muttered without looking at you.

"Cool." You got up off the bed completely to move around to his other side; you didn't trust what might happen if you climbed over his legs. For whatever reason, Bowser seemed almost embarrassed by the tail arch, and you didn't care to humiliate the king.

It probably meant nothing, just a good spot like on cats and dogs and other animals. Yeah. Sure.

When you settled on his other side to continue the process, he turned his face away from you. You didn't comment. If he wanted to be a baby about it, fine with you - he was actually doing you a favor by reminding you he was a haughty man-child with the title of king. Silently, you continued your task, careful not to use too much oil and spreading it as evenly as you could, just as thoroughly as you'd done on his other side.

[seokiloquy]

tick. thump. pt 2 - Miya Osamu

AU: Soulmate  

Tags/ Warnings: GN! Reader, mild language 

Word Count: 2.5k

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

“In deep thought or daydreaming?” Osamu’s voice carried through the empty shop. 

Two days had passed. The first was spent trying to convince your parents to hire him without fully disclosing that he was your soulmate and had a girlfriend. That was truly a lovely experience. The second day was you teaching a very nervous Osamu how you did things and what to do which was another lovely experience considering that he only had experience in the kitchen and not with dealing with customers at the counter — the thing that your parents needed. The only other thing he did besides being a foodie was play volleyball. 

To which you had said, “As long as you don’t spike an onigiri in someone’s face, I think you’ll be fine.” 

You looked up as you wiped the counter. Osamu stood near one of the tables leaning on a carefully balanced broom. You were closing up and waiting for your parents to get back from the store. His face was unreadable, but not emotionless. In the couple of hours you spent with him, you noted that he wasn’t very expressive. He’d work quietly when he was cleaning or preparing and was friendly and kind when he greeted people. He was different than you thought that he would be. 

Honestly, when he said that he was willing to break up with Airi when he met you, it put a bad taste in your mouth. But now, you could understand why it was an instinctive reaction. Whenever you stole a glance at him, the light would always catch him at the perfect angle. His eyes were bright and his usual deadpan face would have a light smile when he noticed you. Oasmu’s laugh was music, and his questions were captivating. He almost seemed too good to be true. 

Is this how he saw you? What you saw and felt was real, you had no doubts about that, but it didn’t mean he saw you the same way. 

“Always a bit of both,” you replied. He asked you this each day when there was a lull. It was his way to get you to open up, and you did promise that you wouldn’t be strangers.

He smiled, and you stifled a flinch. “Care to share?” 

“You first.” You bit the inside of your cheek. 

The world seemed to be pushing the two of you together under the name of “soulmates” but a part of you removed yourself from the equation. You had built a steady wall between the two of you that you wouldn’t dare cross. It was only when he asked you this, that you let yourself indulge. 

“I’m in Seoul right now,” he said. His eyes glazed over and he licked his lips. You resisted the urge to snort. The other thing you noted was Osamu’s love for food, the only time when his heart was on his sleeve and he became an open book. “I’m eating tofu soup, sweet and spicy fried chicken, and the waiter gave me free ice cream. It should be great, and the food always is, but I want more. One bite is never enough. One bite only makes you more hungry.” 

Daydreams. Deep thought. Daydreams. Deep thought. 

“I’m in the park, on the swings,” you said. “Birds sing, and children laugh, but I’m alone. I live for the feeling of falling and can’t wait until it happens again. I really like the park in the mornings when no one is there; when the sun is just starting to shine and everything feels brand new.” 

Your replies are always shorter than his answers, afraid that you would say too much. In a way, it was easier being extremely vague because you had no doubts that Osamu knew what you were saying. Some conversations were easier than others. Some conversations were painfully awkward and led to dead ends, but nothing felt like a waste of time or a stolen moment. You had only known each other for a couple of days; maybe some things didn’t feel right, but nothing felt wrong. 

“Take me there?” he asked. It was interesting to see what truths he pulled out of your daydreams. 

“Maybe.” 

He smiled. “‘Maybe’ is better than no.” 

Every smile was anything brick that you painfully laid. Osamu’s smile held for another moment and slowly shifted to a quizzical look. “What is it?” 

Did something on your face give it away? Did your doubt seep through? The same question that popped in your head whenever you saw him: Did he tell Airi yet? He would’ve told you if he did. Would he tell you? 

You swallowed and opened your mouth to ask. Just get it over with, you thought. 

“How are my least favourite employees?” your dad called out as he pushed the door open with a rough swing, which rebounded against the wall creating a loud slam. 

Osamu, who had been looking at you, jumped, and the broom fell to the floor. 

Your dad shook his head and tsked. “Slacking off, I see.” 

You scoffed. You weren’t sure if you were happy about your dad’s interruption, but it did snap your brain back to quips and easy conversation. “If we’re your least favourite employees, then who's your favourite? You don’t have a long list to choose from.” 

Your dad picked up the broom, handed it to Osamu, and then placed bags of groceries — both for your home life and the restaurant — on the counter you just cleaned. “Well, your mom, for sure.” 

You heard a hard thump before you saw your dad’s back pinched forward and his face pinched in pain. Your mom stood at the entrance and your body was in a throwing stance. You glazed over the counter and saw an apple not far from where your dad was. 

Osamu snorted and covered his face with his hand. 

“I’m not an employee, you piece of shit,” your mom sneered. “I’m co-owner, and you keep saying crap like then I’ll demote you to employee.” 

Your dad lightly laughed, but his eyes were scared. “Sorry. You know I love you.” 

“I love you too,” your mom said angrily, placing the remaining bags on one of the tables. “Put the groceries away.” 

She smiled politely at Osamu. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. She exited the shop and used a separate entrance to go to the complex above the shop where the three of you lived. 

You leaned closer to your dad. “Looks like you’re going to be on the list soon enough. Can you still have a least favourite employee when you’re one of them?” 

“I can, and it’s you.” Your dad glared and tried to rub his back. He dramatically sniffled and whipped away non-existent tears. “Put the groceries away. My back hurts.” 

You scowled. “No, it doesn’t.” 

Your dad nodded at Osamu as he walked out the door. “This is why you’re my least favourite employee.” 

Osamu grinned at you. “There is never a dull moment in your family, is there?” 

“Nope.” You picked up some bags off the counter. “Welcome to my world, population of one. Help me?” 

Osamu leaned his broom against the wall of the entrance and grabbed the bags your mom left with ease. “Does this count as overtime?” 

You laughed. “If either of us deserves overtime, it’s me. This borders on labour laws.” 

“It’s good that I’m here then.” The joke was obvious in his voice but your reply came out before you could think it through. 

“You’re in for a lifetime, soulmate.” 

You froze. Shit. Stupid parents for making your mind ease and your filter getting shredded to bits. Dread took over like a dark storm cloud over your head. 

Osamu froze too, but not in the way you expected. His eyebrows raised, a surprised look took over his face, but then it moulded into something soft … and a little sad. “A lifetime seems too short, then.” 

He grabbed the remaining bags and walked into the back room without another word. You didn’t know if he left you there to process or because he didn’t want to see your reaction, but you were glad that he did. 

It was moments like these that filled you with joy and a quiet shame for enjoying it. Your wall had a crack in it. 

Daydreams. Deep thought. 

Osamu was late meeting Airi. 

His hand clutched a bag of leftover onigiri after his shift ended with you. Osamu didn’t know what possessed him to say those words to you. He saw you and the way you kept your distance, but he wanted to make sure of something before he met Airi. He’d been waiting for a small opening with you, any chance or moment where you and your words weren’t dancing around him in favour of the distance. 

When you called him soulmate, he stopped breathing. Osamu would never need any more praise or reassurance if only he could hear you say that again. So, what he said after was nothing but the truth and when he saw the flicker in your eyes at his response, he got the answer he’d been looking for. 

Since you pulled yourself away from him, it was hard to gauge where the two of you stood. He knew now that you were on the same page as him if only a few sentences away from him. Giddiness and determination filled him. 

Osamu slowed his pace when he saw the back of Airi sitting on the bench where they were supposed to meet. The memories of today dulled and made him feel queasy. It was wrong of him to suggest breaking up with Airi the moment he saw you — he was ashamed to admit that it was the first thing that crossed his mind when his eyes met yours. Airi deserved better. 

Every smile and laugh with you was laced with uneasy guilt. Osamu couldn’t say it was love, but he liked Airi a lot. They were friends. They’ve never spoken about what would happen when they met their soulmate, but he guessed that today was the day. Osamu let himself keep you a secret before telling Airi. He wanted to make sure of something for himself, and it was proven in these days with you. 

“Airi!” he called out. 

She turned quickly and smiled at him. Airi got up and went for a hug and pecked him on the cheek. It was the same greeting they’ve had for months and it wasn’t like all of Osamu’s feelings for her went away; he still cared about her. But if Airi was the sunset, today, and everyday, would be the water, slowly disappearing behind the horizon until it was gone and only the memory of it left behind. 

“What’s up? We usually meet at one of our houses so I was kind of surprised when you wanted to meet here.” Her gaze went past him and looked around. “I like this park, though. I don’t know how I haven’t been here before.” 

Osamu swallowed. His voice was shaky as he said, “I have to tell you something.” 

Airi frowned with a hint of concern on her face. “Is everything okay?” 

“Kind of?” Osamu shoved his hands in his pockets and the bag of onigiri hit his leg, a reminder. “You know the person at the onigiri store we went to a few days ago?” 

“Yeah.” She let out a light laugh and nudged the bag by his leg. “Seems like you liked it since you went back.” 

Osamu hummed, trying to figure out how he was going to say it. The best way is the cleanest. “They’re my soulmate.” 

Airi blinked. She took a step back from him, nodding slowly and shallowly. “Oh.” 

“I’m—” He stopped himself. In a soft tone, he said, “We’ve never talked about this — What would happen when we find our soulmate.” 

Airi kept nodding her head. Osamu wasn’t sure if she heard her or not but he kept quiet. After another moment, she stopped and looked at him. There was a certain clarity in her face mixed with sadness. “They’re your soulmate and…we knew that this wasn’t going to last. We went into this on borrowed time and even if we didn’t talk about it, we both knew.” 

“Yeah.” Osamu nodded, but your voice echoed in his brain. “(Y/N) — the person from the store — they told me to not break up with you. Or that us being soulmates shouldn’t mean that our relationship should be over.” 

Airi’s eyes widened. “So what do you want to do?” 

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” he said. 

“About what? It’s not your fault, Osamu.” 

“Not about meeting (Y/N),” he said. “About telling them that I would break up with you when I met them. I know that you didn’t know about it, but I wanted to apologise. It was wrong to just throw away our relationship as if it meant nothing. I loved the time I spent with you.” 

“Thank you,” Airi said. Some of the tension went out of her shoulders and a small smile was on her lips. “As for what to do, I think that you already answered that.”

A dull pain went through his chest. “Are you sure? Because I —” 

“You met your soulmate,” Airi said softly. “I know you, Osamu. Maybe not as much as your brother and some other people, but I know that once you met (Y/N), even if I didn’t notice it, you felt something and you wanted more.” 

Osamu carefully went up to her, giving her a chance to pull away before giving her a hug. “Thank you.” 

“We were friends before. We can go back to that.” Airi laughed to herself, pulling away. “They sound kind of amazing, though. Maybe I want to be friends with them.” 

“Get in line. I just became friends with them.” 

Airi smirked. “I’m liking them more and more. Such a shame that they’re stuck with you for the rest of their life.” 

Osamu scoffed, a beaming smile on his face. Things were different now but he liked that some stayed the same. “Wait until I meet your soulmate. They have no clue what they’re getting into.” 

Airi’s jaw dropped. “Just for that, I’m telling (Y/N) about your nightmare that giant Atsumu was chasing you with a pair of chopsticks while you ran naked through grains of rice.” 

“Don’t.” Osamu’s eyes narrowed. “It was a horrifying experience.” 

Airi pointed in a direction behind Osamu. “Which way was the store? I can tell them right now.” 

Osamu rolled his eyes. He raised the bag in his hand. “Want some onigiri?” 

He couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow. He would just need a moment to tell you, and everything was going to work out. 

There’s going to be another part! It feels a bit strange…but I’m just going with it. Hopefully you guys like the final part! 

As always, thank you for reading – Kiwi 

Can I marry Dad? – Bacon

Posted: 15/05/2023

[phantomram-b00]

So I know I’ve dip my toast or made some post about this theory, I know most have talk about it. But since I’m back, I do want to finally out in more of a cohesive thought surrounding the theory, that you may love, you may hate, it might spook you maybe, let talk about The Coffee Theory.

Look I’m pretty sure we’ve all heard about this theory more so than the kiss itself. But just incase if newer fans of this show stumble about this. Look no forwards as I’ll explain it, basically the Coffee Theory is the theory that surprisingly MatPat haven’t got his hands on where it theorized that Metatron miracle-d/spiked/drugged Aziraphale’s coffee to make the process of taking him to heaven a lot smoother as well as manipulate him further more. Evidence about this theory goes between the almond syrup being small to then metatron saying “hefty amount” as he give it to aziraphale, aziraphale mannerism during that scene to metatron’s shift to being a war hungry voice of god to a simply “innocent” voice of god. I’ll go more in depth with this but this is basically what it is.

Now before if you scroll down to my haunted page, I’ve always stated that I was bipartisan or neutral about this topic. Most because I wanted time to consumed my overall thoughts but also was a bit afraid I might be alone for not liking it. But then seeing most sides and as well as seeing I wasn’t alone at all. But before anything let me make one thing transparent, if you believe in this theory, that’s okay, more power to you and you’re valid. If you don’t like it, you’re also valid. Regardless of what I’ve said, you still valid, that the beauty about discussion everyone have different opinions or theory. so without further or do, let get into this.

Does the coffee theory work?

Let me go in depth of the evidence before I give my overall thought in this question. So let break it down as I do realize just having a paragraph block after block probably doesn’t work so let me just go by number after number.

1. The Almond Syrup

So, this is the defining characteristic when talking about the theory; it was also emphasized within the show about the almond syrup in the last episode. As when Metatron is ordering the coffee, he asked for a small amount of almond syrup. What does raise eyebrows is when metatron then give him the coffee and said “hefty” amount vs the small amount he asked. Which okay to give it the benefit of the doubt, that does raise Red Flags. As in why would Metatron ask for small and then lie to Aziraphale about the amount of better yet, why give him a specific amount of the syrup at all? Because he could’ve just told him that the coffee just had Almond syrup rather than saying the specific amount. And given that he is the voice of God, I don’t think he would ever forget something as simple as that.

Now granted, it could be that the UK does have a different measurement scale than the US/other places. And look, I’m not British nor European. Plus they weren’t specific on how much pump was specifically used. I can say as from my experience from working at a coffee-fast food place, seeing how it seemingly a medium cup, the average would be three pumps with the small being two and the large being four pumps. I’m not sure if UK has the same or different syrup pumps, I’m not going to pretend like I know, so maybe it could very well be hefty for them or small for them. I mean if to give a more leeway, metatron could’ve very well have put more inside the coffee than how it was originally intended. But why? Especially since it seem weird that he never asked Aziraphale what he wanted in his coffee to begin with (remember this. This will be important). Especially since for three pumps, you can very well taste it unless you REALLY wanna get the full taste of it than taste the coffee. (Now look. I fucking hate Coffee, I’m more of a Hot Chocolate person than anything so I could be very wrong but I have tasted it tho). So this is where people think he most likely miracle or put something more in the coffee, spiking it if you will, and now Aziraphale may be naive but he’s not stupid he would most likely notice the coffee isn’t right, he’s an angel after all, he would most likely sense it. So that could make sense for the syrup to mask the taste of it, sound like it could very well be a good cover.

Now another key point as well is that Almond have a religious implication in it. which does hold more weight. Now from what I’ve look, it symbolism is “watchfulness”. In Jeremiah 1:11-12, God/Metatron (either or) asked Jeramiah what he see? He responded with, “Branch of an Almond tree” to which God/Metatron replied with “You have seen correctly, for I am watching to see that my word is fulfilled”. Yeah look biblical symbolism does not make a lick of sense, and I went to two religious school.

“Phantom why bring this up?”

Well, because it might give the syrup a more symbolic effect of the coffee. I mean, if we’re talking about angel and demon, so Gaiman could’ve very well had a symbolic reasoning let alone a religious symbolism. Especially since, with this context, metatron could be using almond as a tactic to remind Aziraphale He’s an Angel and Must fall back in line in an indirect way. Or even to remind Aziraphale, “God is always watchful, so you must come back “home” now as we must do the ineffable plan”. Now this might not be spiking it as it more or less is a threat tactic. Which is true, so the symbolism can be used as a threat against Aziraphale. I mean why else would he make a point to mention Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship, maybe to say “whatever you have must come to the end, she is watching you.” Or more dangerously “I am watching you”. Granted if this does seem going too deep, I don’t blame you, I mean religion let alone the Bible does wild, I mean we’ve seen the Job episode which I swear if that not how all Bible story sound like in the nutshell I don’t know what is because even Job, his wife and his kids was confused af. But I do think this doesn’t seem far off, especially with how this show does have many symbolism. Not all religious based but if this does have symbolic significance, it not so far off.

But at the same time, what make this fall flat is that, even if he covered it, Aziraphale would’ve still sensed that Metatron put a miracle inside the coffee. Especially as he drinks it. And also he doesn’t seem to drink it a lot at least from what we’ve saw, so the miracle wouldn’t have fall through and he would’ve notice it. Like especially since it is implied that Aziraphale does go to the shop way back in episode one of season 2, hence why he know his name “Mr. Fell” so, I think he’d immediately got suspicious seeing that it wasn’t like how Nina normally make her coffee. But also, I feel Nina was already suspicious with Metatron so i think Metatron would’ve played more smarter if trying to not be a walking red flag than he already is. So I think the almond syrup is just convenient and is to make the coffee sweater for Aziraphale especially since he doesn’t even know what he drinks. Is this a stronger point for the theory, I’ll admit it, yes it does, however this point does have gaping holes. Especially since Aziraphale while he does have his moment where he made poor choices (cough cough Season 1 before the fire). But Aziraphale is more clever: he figured out the location of the Antichrist, figure out what "chose your face wisely" was indicating, find clues about Gabriel being in Edinburgh, and so much more. he not one to be fool THAT easily regardless of his final decision at the end of season 2.

2. Aziraphale’s mannerism after the coffee

So, many people pick up on his mannerism after said coffee. Some saying when he’s talking to Crowley during that scene he sounds not like himself. Giddy even about going back to the one place that not only tried to kill him but what negatively impacted him both emotionally and possibly mentally. Most mention the smile Aziraphale gives during the end credits scene. This does link up to the potential of Metatron spiking the coffee to mind control him either temporarily or even permanently as he going to be working as an Supreme Archangel after Gabriel got his happily ever after with Beelzebub. Which might’ve explain why he emphasis how Heaven is the good guys and say how Hell (while unintentionally calling Crowley) the bad guys despite that in 1941 episode they established they both the shades of grey as well as they stop armageddon. Why would Aziraphale still uphold this belief even after saving the world with Crowley? It seemingly does imply that this is out of character for him after all that have happen. So I’ll give it this credit.

However, I’m going to say this, this also fall flat. Why? Because Aziraphale main reason of being giddy, was because he is granted something that he see might fixed heaven’s broke system. While yes, in the beginning he was derailing the conversation by saying “well what about everything here?”, but at the same token, Aziraphale still look at the positive, because one thing about him is that he is an optimistic person to a fault. He can be skeptical or have doubts but he still will focus on the good vs everything that is negative. Not only this, but got the green lit that he can appoint Crowley there. So that both of them combine will fix Heaven from the broken system that was built since The Beginning Of Time.

But like Crowley said “it would be just as dead as if hell ended things on earth”, aziraphale in this situation is not looking at things in an overall bigger picture. He not understanding that Heaven is just as toxic as Hell is. I mean minus the fact they almost died execution style because they wanted the save earth, they fear mongers a lot with Aziraphale. I mean not to bring up Job episode as I felt we’ve all talk about everything in great details, but he did have a breakdown where he let a part of his mask fall as he was scared he will fall just for not “letting Crowley kill the kids”. Also who know if they always mention the book of life. So I don’t doubt Aziraphale saw this one positive opportunity and take it and not understanding fully what is happening. That’s why during that very scene his mask is slipping and even more so after the kiss. He barely had time to even process what is happening (hence why Rob Wilkin describe Aziraphale’s face express as “do it again” and “I am trying to understand what is happening”) because even when metatron goes to collect him; he still is trying to detail by asking about the bookshop and everything. Metatron already have everything figured out, he appointed Muriel, he already place his chess piece and won. Aziraphale realize he made a mistake as he look out at the window he even tries to say so, but can’t.

And then when the second coming is revealed, he takes a look back at Crowley. Mostly to get one last look as Aziraphale knows he won’t come back. Now he has to figure out how to stop this back in Heaven. See, the thing about this is, i do see how people can see the shift; but i see this as a sense that while this is a trap and a threat simultaneously; this was still Aziraphale’s choice to go back to heaven as he want to fix things vs trying to run away with Crowley. (Which I know I said I am proud of Crowley for sticking his ground. I still am. Go speeding demon! However I can’t say Aziraphale’s an asshole for wanting to fix things vs running away. I might go in depth with this). So in a sense, he’s not choosing heaven over Crowley but rather choosing to protect the thing he love and Crowley over his own heart, and especially now he know about this, he now has to figure out how to stop everything from ending on earth. Just on his own.

3. Metatron’s shift from season 1 to 2

Last time we’ve seen Metatron was in episode 4 of season 1. Funny how both metatron only appear once in both seasons. So, I’m not sure if people talked about this; maybe they did, but imma talk about this as this does contribute to both of the evidence. So when we first met him, Aziraphale want to talk things out and see if he can stop it by talking to God, however, Metatron is on board with this project. He want things to end just as much as the other archangel; and want Aziraphale to come back immediately. Here, while he not overtly crass of aggressive, he is very different to his delivery and want him back. And Aziraphale was able to detail him and try to set thing with with Crowley to avoid going back. Sure Azirpahale did accidentally discorporate himself in the process however; he still would rather go back then be apart of the war. Even going as far as possess something, which I’m sorry, that still get me to this day.

And now, Season two, we see Metatron again. And this time, he came baring gifts, aka coffee. Not only that, this time, he have a more gentler approach to Aziraphale. To which Aziraphale saw no qualm. And you know this is relatable as I can be just as naive; not to mention he almost died in 1941 by his nativity. So you know it tracks. But here, we see he not asking to come back into war but to be promoted to Supreme Archangel as a direct parallel to when Beelzebub want to promote Crowley to Duke of Hell. Sure Aziraphale like mention before had qualms with this but Metatron was able to pull some strings. Even going as far as telling Aziraphale he can bring Crowley. And even after everything, he was still while in a hurry was patient with him. Metatron’s display of gentle kindness was what made Aziraphale more likely to accept vs how his tone was back in season 1. I mean he still have it as he gave Crowley the dirtiest look with Crowley’s honestly don’t care after everything and just want to have a nice restaurant date with his partner and finally be able to love each other.

Now, I can say, this one does make sense along with the Almond Syrup as it is interesting with his shift. But but but but but, it fall flat on the technicality that, he still won. He was able to get Aziraphale because Aziraphale himself can’t get out of this even if he tries; sure it was his own choice but he can’t take it back. As mention in the syrup segment, he mention his and Crowley’s relationship, even with his gentle demeanor he was still threatening him to come back. And again, he look at Crowley with the dirtiest look possible, he knew what he was doing when giving him that look. And he was able to get him to the elevator, because he know Aziraphale wouldn’t go by himself especially after the kiss. He was there by his side, for a reason, to make sure he doesn’t run away again. Checkmate if you will for now.

But can it still work?

Okay so even though I gave this the benefit of the doubt and their credit because I do see where people are coming from. No. I don’t think it can still work.

Because as stated, some of the evidence fall flat and have holes. Also, it doesn’t fit Gaiman (and Terry Prackett)’s vision of Good Omens. Sure even though there’s Religious Symbolism with Almonds so that might’ve given the theory more justification and support; however, in terms of writing, this doesn’t nothing. If anything it damage character growth of Aziraphale; now I’ll admit I did give it some hope since I wanted to believe that Aziraphale wasn’t leaving Crowley on his own terms, but after some time and retrospect and during the break; I’m realizing, it truly wouldn’t matter if the coffee was tampered with. Because he still choice this path. He still made that executive decision to leave everything to protect everything he love; even if it mean he won’t be able to see the things he love again. Or in a funny case will have to see Sound of Music-

But also, I feel there a more nuance in depth reason as to why He wanted Aziraphale specifically. Because for all we know, he could’ve very well appointed Michael, Uriel, or any of the other Archangel we’ve seen. So I don’t think he would try to tamper with the coffee to get Aziraphale, there have to be a specific reason why him. I mean why appoint someone that love earth and would most likely refused for the end of the world to happen again. It make no sense at all.

Another thing, the coffee could’ve just been a gift to break down Aziraphale’s guard, I mean most people like gifts and it bring them happiness so him getting Aziraphale’s coffee could be a tactic to show no animosity between them. Even though again, he hesitantly toke the coffee and honestly, I headcanon that he doesn’t like coffee at all. He still toke it and was able to have a peaceful-ish conversation regarding the promotion. Before we jump to one of the most devastating conversation of all time.

So personally, now. I’m no longer neutral, I really don’t like the coffee theory as a whole. I can see the evidence, but that doesn’t matter. But, if you do believe in the theory, tell me all about it, if you agree or disagree with me also tell me about it. Hope you guys like my insane ramble la of this show. Because my gosh, this hyperfixation will be the death of me. But tell me what you guys thing and sure, tell me what other theories you dislike. Now, imma go haunt somewhere else. Have a boo-tastic day.