#op is a big fan of hurt/comfort can you tell

[erme-aeterna-arts]

thinking about post-canon potentialities for miscommunication for durgestarion like a normal person and basically

durge would definitely struggle with expressing their feelings of anger and annoyance because as far as they know they might kill someone if they don’t reign in their emotions, it would be a very hard to lose habit even after denying bhaal. so i think whenever there is a conflict or something bothers them, they just become very silent and avoidant.

as for astarion, he doesn’t seem to particularly hold back on his anger, he complains about the smallest of things, and it’s quite cathartic for him to be able to do so. vulnerability is harder for him though, and he tends to get defensive/argumentative when something hits too close home.

he would worry a lot after a fight, what if he became “too much”, and with durge avoiding conversations until they are sure they won’t lose their head, it would be one of the points in their relationship they would have to work on but also a likely source of angst.

like durge doesn’t share for the fear of getting too emotional and hurting astarion, and astarion for the fear of a punishment (literal in the past and in the form of the partner leaving/some negative reaction in the canon and post-canon timeline) for being too weak or too annoying.

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 7

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief suggestive content. Angst, anxiety, self loathing, relationship issues. Darling is her own tag/warning. Panic attack, eating related issues, fainting. Emotional hurt/comfort, fluff. Established throuple. It's better when they're here.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyle grins in response, and then pulls you in for a hug. His face is full mirth, his cheer warming you from the inside, and you embrace him in return. 

“’bout time they bring you out here. No reason to hide you away all this time.” Something nervous, a light giggle, slips out from between your lips, your eyes rolling in an exaggerated fashion. Johnny's hand flexes against the base of your spine. 

“Gaz.” Simon sighs, and he barks out a laugh before turning back to you. 

“Try not to let these two bore ya to death.” He whispers, before giving them both a nod and ducking down the hall. He makes absolutely no noise, feet silent against the floor, practically disappearing before your eyes, shadow here then gone, presence felt, and then void, all at once.

“He’s nice.” You look up at the two of them. Johnny chuckles, amusement scrawling across his lips and cheeks as he wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Don’t let him fool ye.” He quips and you frown, confused.

“Gaz is… very, very good at his job. One of the best there is, I’d say.” Simon explains gently, and then your stomach sours, because you remember.

What they do. What their jobs are. Why you’re even here in the first place. You’ve never asked for in-depth detail or explanations, but you’ve heard enough, know enough, to know.

He turns the lock and pushes their door open, giving you a view into their room, a short hall that expands out to something that looks like a college dorm, except maybe a bit bigger. It’s got all the similarities though, cinderblocks and an old, tiled floor, singular window and a bit of an odd smell.

“So, this is your room?”

“Aye. We’ve got a big bed, mostly thanks to Si, and a little more space than everyone else on this floor but, this is it.” It’s sparse too, no pictures or personal items, nothing that looks like or resembles them except…

There’s a bulletin board, hanging on the wall above the bed. It’s empty, save for one thing, a photo that’s been stapled to the cork.

It’s of you, this photo, you under a white sheet, smiling at Simon, who’s behind the camera, with just the shadow of Johnny’s hand along your upper arm. It was taken last year, you can tell, because you recognize the style of your hair from that time, and you stand there for too long, staring at it, mouth partially hanging open, breath held in your lungs.

Nothing in this room that reflects them, or their home, or each other… nothing. Except for a photo of you. 

“Darling?” Simon murmurs, and his chest presses against your back, thumb and forefinger stroking along the back of your neck. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. I… I’m alright.”

“So, like… what is that you guys do?” The question lands to a silent reception, both of them exchanging looks in front of you, almost like you’re not even in the room. You feel awkward, and self-conscious, while they seem to have a silent debate with their eyes.

“We’re in multi-national special ops unit.” Johnny provides, and your eyebrows crease as you process. A what? A multi-national what? You laugh, until you realize their faces are deadly serious.

Wait. Are these guys in the fucking military? 

“Special ops, like… the military special ops?”

“Kind of.”

Oh. 

Fuck. Your cheeks feel hot, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or the topic you’ve stumbled upon, but you swallow loudly as you process it. 

You’re not exactly a huge fan of the military. Not like you really know anything about it, just that most of the wars your own country has been involved in for the last twenty years revolve around oil and imperialism, and all the dudes who serve are abusive and predatory. Assholes. Creeps. 

Or at least, that’s what it’s like where you’re from. 

“She didn’t like that.” Simon murmurs from behind the mask, and Johnny grimaces. 

“Alright?” He hums and a small noise gets stuck in your throat, like you want to say yes, want to say no, like you’re not sure what you want. “We travel a lot, for work. So, we’re not always around… that’s where we’ve been the last few weeks. Working.” The words make your heart skip a beat, and you nod, still processing.

Not always around… not always around. 

So they really aren’t planning on making this a thing, then. The thought stings with bitterness against your tongue, and you shove it away. 

 When you don’t say anything in response, Johnny sighs, and reaches for your hand, fingers curled against your palm in your lap. “How did we get on this subject anyway? We’re supposed to be havin’ some fun.” He smiles, big and warm, sending butterflies spiraling through your stomach and up your spine. 

Simon’s gaze never strays from your face, and his brow furrows, like he’s reading you, or piecing you together. The scrutiny makes you shiver. 

Why are you worrying about it? This is only like the third time seeing them, anyway. You’re getting too attached. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re just having fun. That’s all it is. 

��Right.” You quip, and then pull your drink towards you before rising from the chair. Your skirt is short, and you realize it’s probably too short when you see Simon’s jaw grinding behind the mask as you turn your body, edge of the fabric brushing against the back of your thighs. His gaze is heavy, it’s hot, and you remember the image of him looking up from between your legs the other night, lower half of his face buried in your cunt, still hidden from view without the scrap of fabric. “So… should we get another round then?” You hold your empty drink, ice clinking against the glass, and Johnny chuckles before standing in front of you, a hand on covetously laying on your waist as his lips brush your cheek. 

“’ll get them, love. You sit.”  

The bed is very, very warm. You don’t even need the duvet and sheet that you have pulled around your shoulders, your hips, but you snuggle down into them farther, breathing in the scent of Johnny’s shampoo, of Simon’s skin.

It all whirs around you in some soft, soothing scented lullaby, and you allow yourself the indulgence, closing your eyes again even though you’ve only just woken from the nap that you slipped into when they left for a meeting.

You’ve managed to trap their body heat beneath the blankets, and you wiggle around until you’re facing the other side, staring at the bulletin board, your own face frozen in time staring back at you.

You look different. You look like you’re in a haze of contented bliss, a peaceful state of happiness, safe and secure, tucked between the two of them without a care in the world.

Why did it change? Who changed it? When? How? 

The questions echo as you piece through the last few months in your mind, trying to place where the original seeds of darkness sprouted from, to find where the murky thoughts and feelings really came from, their roots, their birth.

This process, this seeking, makes your hands shake against the sheets. It makes your legs twitch, feet rubbing against each other while your chest tightens. Dread, panic, shame, all twist and turn through your mind, pinpointing your weaknesses and failures, exposing you to yourself like the fool you are.

They’re trying. Are you? 

You don’t need the answers, not truly. You know where the blame lies. You know what happened. You know the part you played; you know the parts the guys played.

You stare at the wall and try to count the patterns in the concrete, willing your brain to focus, willing yourself to pull up, pull out, put your head on straight. The sound of blood rushing in your ears is deafening, loud enough that you think someone may hear it down the hall. May hear you, succumbing to yourself.

It feels like drowning.

They could pull you out. Simon could fix it. They could make it better. 

But would they? Could he, now? When nothing is the same? 

The memory from leaving the hotel ripples across your heart like a familiar melody, acid burning in your calves as you blink and shudder.

Simon, holding your nape, Johnny, holding you to him in the elevator, in the car.

“Stay with us darling. Stay here. With us.”

You wonder if it will ever be the same again.

You hate this one as much as the last. 

Your mouth pulls into a frown, hands resting on your hips as you stare at the canvas in front of you, rotating your head from left to right, like that will make you see it better. Like that will bring it into focus. 

The colors are wrong. They don’t harmonize, they don’t crest and swell together like you had envisioned. They don’t blend in a cacophony of floral silhouettes like you saw in your mind. 

Instead, they look like a storming sea. Darker hues overpowering the light, like thunder through daybreak. 

Maybe you could fix it? Or maybe, you should just abandon this technique. Maybe you could-

There’s a knock at your door. 

It’s not light, or gentle, but firm, ringing out in rapid succession and you jerk. 

Who could that be? You’re not expecting anyone until- 

Oh. Oh no. Oh god. Oh no, no no. 

Your eyes dart frantically around the art room before you're shoving the two brushes from your hands into a tray and tripping out into your living room. 

“Oh my god.” You gulp out loud to no one but yourself, the person who has spent the last three, possibly four days in a haze, a painting binge, trying to escape the stress of your job, of life, of this… thing that’s going on with Simon and Johnny.

Trying to escape yourself. Your thoughts. Your feelings. 

Your flat expresses it well. You think, possibly, it could appear like it had been ransacked. Your clothes are everywhere. Draped over your tiny loveseat couch, shoved between cushions and pillows. Two-day old toast sits on your kitchen counter, accompanying two, three, four coffee mugs that are filled with varying levels of liquid. Your uneaten dinner from last night sits on a plate next to the trash can, your oats from the other morning sit cold in the sink. 

A prescription bottle that hasn’t been touched in four days, lurks on the kitchen counter with a handwritten note taped beneath it: 

“You HAVE to, or you’ll regret it.” 

Another knock sounds at your door, thumping followed by the sound of your phone vibrating next to the stove.

Your left sock has a swipe of chartreuse across it. Your overalls are tacky with dried paint. You can vaguely feel your hands touching your hair, your neck, hovering above where your heart hammers. 

You can’t let them see you like this. 

They’ve never seen you like this. 

This is supposed to be light. It’s fun. It’s… not real. They’re not with you. They cannot see. 

You take a deep breath. 

Maybe you can pass it off. You can… say you’re sorry for the mess, that you’re sorting through things for donation. And you don’t have to lie about painting. That will explain the clothes. 

You take a breath, and then open the door to find Johnny on the other side, happily smiling at you, mohawk shining in the light of the hall. He looks you up and down briefly, and you freeze, waiting. 

Waiting for him to say something nasty, something hurtful. Waiting for him to reprimand you for failing, to accuse you of being useless, helpless. Waiting for him to tell you he doesn’t have time to deal with this. That you should be better, do a better job of taking care of yourself. 

“- and he’ll just be a minute, but we’re so excited, been thinkin’ about ye all week. We had such a good time before we left, really loved sharing those days with you.” What? You blink. He cocks his head. “Love? Y’alright?” 

“Yeah.” You answer, voice monotone. Somewhere, trapped beneath layers and layers of the worst pieces, you’re screaming. You’re aching. You’re desperate. 

“This all paint?” He motions to the splatters and stains, and you nod robotically. “I remember, you mentioned that last time… that you paint. I uh, draw sometimes.” Of course, he draws. Because he’s beautiful, and perfect. He rubs his neck almost sheepishly before raising an eyebrow at you. 

Oh. Right. 

“D-do you… want to come in?” You offer it meekly. Please say no. say no, say you’ll wait out in there, say you don’t want to. 

“Sure, thanks.” Fuck. He steps by you as you motion, brushing against you closely, close enough that the butterflies flutter and you can feel the heat of him. “This is cozy, yeah?” He gestures to your flat from the kitchen, and you nod again. On autopilot.

All you can see is the food, untouched, uneaten. Evidence of your struggle. A water bottle that’s full to brim. The coffee cups, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to wash. All you can feel is your own skin, dry around your mouth, your nose, and oily everywhere else, your dirty clothes heavy against your body. You can feel your teeth, your tongue, unbrushed, unclean in your mouth, jaw clicking while your grind your molars. 

You shouldn’t have let him in. He’s going to see. He’s going to hate you. Hate this. 

The room spins. 

“Hey,” There’s a hand, on your arm. It’s big and soft, and sweet and you blink again. “Darling.” There it is. That pet name. That nick name. That name that’s quickly becoming your own. The one that makes you feel warm, safe, cherished. The one that makes you feel like this is something more. 

You hate it. 

You love it. 

“What is it?” Johnny’s handsome face peers down at you, concern worrying across his brow. 

“N-nothing.” You try to lead him off, but your breathing stutters through your nose, and he looks alarmed. 

There’s a new knock at your door, heavy and quick, and you both turn to look just as Simon is filling the door frame, half of his face hidden with the black mask that he always wears. 

He watches you. Like a predator. His eyes flick from you, to Johnny, to the kitchen… the living room. 

It's like there’s a train sitting on your chest.

“Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He says softly, clicking the door shut behind him. As soon as it’s secure, the mask comes off, and he’s focused on you, eyes not leaving your face, moving closer and closer until he’s upon you and Johnny, huge hand coming to hold your elbow. “What’s going on?” He murmurs, but it’s not for you. Even if it was, you cannot answer. There’s a train sitting on your chest, after all. 

“Ah dinnae ken.” Johnny answers immediately, while his palm works up and down your arm in a calming pattern. 

“Darling?” Simon cups your cheek. Ever since he showed you his face, he’s been… like this. Intuitive. Too intuitive. Too keen. Like he already knows. Like he’s been waiting. 

“I-“ you try to tell him it’s nothing. That you’re tired. All of your lies flit through your head, the stories you wanted to concoct to explain everything away but nothing comes out. Not even your breath. 

The room spins again, but this time so does your head. The floor feels like it’s tilting, or maybe it’s your feet that are off balance. You’re not sure. You feel light though, like your legs don’t even exist. Like your knees aren’t real.

“Shite.” Johnny swears, and lunges, hands darting out to catch you before the world goes black. 

“Are you asleep?” There’s a whisper, like a soft touch, against your ear. It’s enough to prickle, enough to crack a smile across your lips, and you press your face into the blankets while strong hands shift your hips.

“I dinnae, might be.” Johnny hums, stroking fingertips down your ribs. It tickles, forcing a breathy giggle from your mouth that’s met with another’s, lips moving with yours while you melt away in a pile of partners and pillows.

“How was the meeting?” You whisper. Simon cradles you to his back, warmth bleeding through his shirt to your skin, and you shimmy closer, pressing hard until you’re flush with him, Johnny watching the two of you with heavy lidded eyes.

“Standard.” Simon answers. “Thought about you the whole time.” He kisses your cheek, arm reaching for Johnny who obliges, nestling himself against your chest. You focus on them, taking long, deep breaths, keeping yourself above water, keeping the murky depths at bay, for now.

It’s better, when they’re here. It’s always better, when you’re together.

“Thinkin’ about ye asleep in our bed, bare cunt on our sheets enough to drive me mad.” Johnny groans, fingers skating across your hip bone. You’re not wearing underwear, just a giant sweatshirt, one of theirs, though you’re not sure who’s.

Lust roars to life between your legs, desire, want, has you clenching, but you try shove it away.

It’s too much, too soon. You’re too… off center. You’ll lose yourself. 

But they’re here. They’ll put you back together. Simon won’t let you fall. 

It’s not a good idea. 

You want it. You want them. Need them. 

The back and forth makes your head hurt.

“I- I’m not ready.” You blurt, and he freezes, pulling his hand free immediately but you grab onto it, desperate to have his touch, to feel him.

Guilt burns in your heart.

“Of course, darling.”

“I’m sorry… I want to I just-“

“You never have to apologize.” Simon rumbles and you shake your head.

“I know but, I feel bad. Guilty.”

“Look at me.” He urges, and you shift, all while clutching Johnny’s hand in yours. “We love you. There is nothing for you to feel guilty about. We will be here when you are ready, but there’s no rush.” He strokes a thumb across your cheek, and you lean into it, eyes slipping closed. “I think I’d be more worried if you were ready to jump right into sex, after everything.” Johnny hums his agreement and presses a warm kiss to your shoulder.

“Let’s take a nap then?” He suggests, and you pull his arm to your chest, rocking between the two of them until you’re effectively sandwiched, comfortable, and secure, just the way you like it.

The way you dream about it.

The way you can only hope it might be, from now until forever.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

not 2 exaggerate or anything but youre my absolute fav writer on tumblr 💥💥💥💥💥 im a big fan of domestic/comfort/simple, warm moments type of genre in fics and your works just rlly scratch that specific itch in my brain. whatever fics u post im like yo.... this is everything im looking for in a fic..... wheres the source from..... r u sucking them out from my brain be honest have u dug a hole already and using me for popularity 🤨🤨🤨 (/J)

might be bc im on my period or wtv but i was gg thru your masterlist ytday night before gg to sleep and i cried while reading "i've alw loved the way you eat," "i dream now of a normal life with you," and "ask me to leave and i'll stay forever." like jfc theres such a specific type of intimacy and soft moments you convey through your words SO WELL i physically feel my heart melting reading them. like UGH esp in "i dream now of a normal life with you" where suguru is just so soft and sappy over reader im just like UGHHHH I WANT SOMEONE TO LOVE ME LIKE THAT AND FOR ME TO RETURN BACK THE SAME LOVE, IF NOT MORE TOO!!!!!!!!!

u get it, u rlly do - honestly u have the best fanon hcs and characterization of suguru i love that man sm so to see him so accurately represented rlly makes me so happy tq for understanding him....... sometimes i see a mischaracterization so bad in a fic i just have to close the app and touch grass LMFAOOOO but u get it.... u rlly do.... never once posted a wrong hc about suguru.... op ur brain <333 u make me so happy i love u sm thanku for creating such beautiful fics i alw come back to reread a bunch of ur stuff, they never get old, it's literally everything im looking for. idc how "boring" hurt/comfort fics r, like even if there's no drama, sometimes simple is best and u do it so, so well thanku op i lov u muacks ❤️

anon ……….

you are . the sweetest in the whole wide world. in the universe. u genuinely don’t UNDERSTAND how big my smile was when i saw this…. melted into a tiny little puddle on the floor

I LOVE YOU….. 🥺🥺🥺 i love you forever and ever and i’m so thankful for your support!!!!! i don’t even know where to begin i’m so overwhelmed pbdkdbdj (AFFECTIONATELY)…. YOU CALLING ME YOUR FAV WRITER? IS SO INSANE??? AND SUCH AN HONOUR????? i cried a bit ngl i’m just. very very thankful T_T but anon.. you can’t expose me like that </3 how am i supposed to get my daily dose of clout if you go around telling ppl abt the ideas i steal directly from your brain???? smh /j ily <3

I’M. just. so unbelievably happy that my writing can mean something to you 😭 and make you feel something!!!! when i hear that ppl cried reading one of my fics i always get so . emotional. it just means so much!! i don’t want you to cry but i’ll accept your tears happily :’3 i hope they were sappy tears and not Sad Tears…..

ON THAT NOTE. THE SAPPINESS. THE SOFTNESS. YES. i’m so happy you could feel it bc most of my fics rlly are just intimacy and nothing else and!! i rlly like writing them that way….. m just happy you enjoyed reading them too :’’’3 i dream, now, of a normal life with you is very near n dear to my heart so!!!! i’m overjoyed that you liked that one in particular 🥺🥺🥺 it just makes me feel so happy and appreciated and . i want to explode a bit. soft sappy sugu is best sugu!! i’m sure you’ll find a love like that some day anon <33 we all deserve it!!

ON THE TOPIC OF SUGU. there truly sincerely is nothing i love hearing more than anons who tell me i do sugu justice. IT MEANS SM TO ME…. he’s so complex and multifaceted and knowing that my own take on him can resonate w anyone makes me soooooo happy…. 🥺🥺 and you saying i have the best characterization of him????? just makes my soul want to ascend. sniffle. thank you!! he’s our golden boy and i love him very much…. honestly i’m way more picky abt gojo than sugu when it comes to mischaracterization but i understand you completely anon…. sometimes i see a take that my brain won’t even let me conceptualize bc i disagree with it so much and then i just have to close my eyes and reboot </3

op ur brain <333 u make me so happy i love u sm thanku for creating such beautiful fics i alw come back to reread a bunch of ur stuff, they never get old, it's literally everything im looking for. idc how "boring" hurt/comfort fics r, like even if there's no drama, sometimes simple is best and u do it so, so well thanku op i lov u muacks ❤️

sorry had to copy paste this bc it made me want to CRY. you make ME so happy hello???? you have no idea the pure amount of endorphins this ask gave to me 😭😭😭 I’M HAPPY I CAN MAKE YOU HAPPY…. you have my whole heart and soul anon atp let’s just get married i think . my heart is yours to keep!!! i can’t tell you how mushy i get knowing there are people out there who read my fics not once but multiple times….. yeah. i’m just. very grateful for you anon <3333 thank you so much for your support and for sending me this lovely ask. i’m gonna be reading it forever n ever !! :((((

[waterflowing-under-ground]

"when a poet has nothing to say... that's how you know it's bad. dandelion NOT saying anything could in fact say more about his character than anything he could have possibly said in this scene."

I think this comment explains it well! And thank you for this post, OP! It inspired me to examine a lot. This is why this saga is so special to me.

I have been sitting on this draft for awhile wondering if it would be strange to reblog (with commentary) your post from over a year ago (which I happened upon browsing your tags bc I really appreciate your reflections about this work).

But I decided to go ahead. It's an important set of topics in the Witcher world and our own (of which fictional worlds like the Witcher are meant to be a mirror) and I wanted to talk about it.

There's so much about grief in this saga, and so much about the of paying debts, and I tend to think about the idea that grief is sort of the price we pay for being able to love.

And I have personal experience with the grief of losing a close friend which makes Geralt's death and Dandelion's reaction to losing him so relatable and heartbreaking. And believable.

I agree that Dandelion's reaction seems a bit... anticlimactic at first, especially given how long him and Geralt's relationship spans, what they've been through together, and how much they mean to each other.

But also we have this reaction to the news of the deaths of the other hansa members, people he'd also grown close to.

"Dandelion held out for a very long time. He didn't ask any questions. But he finally had to be told everything. And be accompanied in his silence. In the dreadful, pregnant silence that fell after the telling, and festered like a sore."

I'm a big fan of Sapkowski's tendency to lean on "less is more" for these powerful and emotional scenes.

Actually, I want to give a chef's kiss for this passage specifically, I just love it so much. It says so much in so few words. It's an emotional punch in the gut, it makes me so sad, and it's so effective at conveying the emotional intimacy between these characters.

I can easily visualize Geralt just sitting with Dandelion as he processes what Geralt has had more time to process, and they just sit and quietly grieve together. There's a lot to be said for the intimacy of just sitting with someone and hurting together. It speaks to a deep level of comfort and emotional intimacy, and a comfort with a lack of words when there simply aren't any which could fully or respectfully convey the gravity of the situation.

Also grief is so unpredictable and quite frankly, weird. One never knows how they'll react to a death until it happens. Years ago when I lost a close friend, my screaming in horror and crying uncontrollably came weeks after any post-death events had taken place and I was alone when it happened. Which is why I find his immediate reaction so believable.

I also think about the fact that Dandelion may have thought he'd be prepared for this eventuality given the inherent risks baked into Geralt's being a witcher and the danger baked into their quest to rescue Ciri.

But then found himself unable to fully acknowledge that it had finally happened, after all the times Geralt had successfully evaded death when it was right on his heels, when in all likelihood he shouldn't have.

Maybe on one hand he thought he'd be prepared for it (and was reminded the hard way that one can never be prepared for it even if they've experienced it before like he had with Essi), and simultaneously had mistakenly deluded himself into thinking after getting so far, Geralt would continue to evade death, and was in shock that this time, he really hadn't.

I know it's naive of me to hope that the new Witcher book is a Dandelion POV where we get to hear more of his experience with his grief after the immediacy of it had passed and he's left alone to cope, getting to see how he grew around his grief (one does not get past grief, one simply grows around it), and was able to heal (and perhaps how his rewrite of Half a Century of Poetry would have been instrumental in his healing process). I feel silly even wishing for it, but I want it terribly.

But one thing about Dandelion that breaks my heart so much is that aside from the hansa and Geralt, we don't see him having such an intimate friendship with anyone else besides Essi, who he'd also already lost. And nobody knew his heart quite the way Geralt did, and that's terribly tragic. But Dandelion is still young and has a lot of life left! It would be so interesting to get to see that.

one thing i do dislike about the ending of lady of the lake is how forgotten geralt and dandelion’s relationship feels at the very, very end. because although i accept, i even like, geralt’s despondence and emotional distance in ch. 11 and 12, which is not only warranted but realistic and flavorful…

i have a hard time believing dandelion’s numb response as geralt is dying. he says so very little. he sniffs, holds triss up, but otherwise says nothing. he muffles an exclamation of shock when ihuarraquax appears, and groans in awe. he is the first to move and place yennefer in the boat.

and his only words, last words he ever says in the series? “something has ended.” … dandelion, our eternally-blithe optimist, says the pessimistic part of the litany.

though, perhaps it’s like this: when a poet has nothing to say… that’s how you know it’s bad. dandelion NOT saying anything could in fact say more about his character than anything he could have possibly said in this scene.

[let-them-read-fics]

Empress of the Heart (Pt. 2)

Synopsis / Request: “Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again.”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings / Misc: Smut (only in Pt. 1), Angst, Fluff

Here’s the second half of the request for you lovely peeps! Enjoy :)

Part 1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

◇◇◇◇◇

"Y/N, more people are arriving and management wants us to greet them. Something about photo ops." Jackson, your fellow lead, says as he pokes his head into your dressing room. His entrance intruded on your thoughts of the beautiful brunette that effectively stole your heart away within a night, leaving you completely at her mercy despite being worlds away.  

"Alright, just give me a second." He nods and goes to stand outside your door -- you're expected to be seen together for a good portion of the night. Thankfully, though, Jackson is a good guy; he cares a lot about you, always doing everything in his power to keep you happy. The feeling is mutual; it's nice to have someone in your corner in an industry as unforgiving as this one. 

"Ready?" You ask, opening the door after you've checked yourself in the mirror and smoothed down any unruly hairs or clothing. Looking presentable is a must tonight -- you can't appear as wistful as you've been feeling lately. 

"Sure am." His answer is a bit unnecessary, seeing as how you asked a rhetorical question, but you send him a smile nonetheless. He offers you an arm, and soon the two of you are walking back towards the entrance of the building. 

--------

Waves of flashing cameras greet you for the second time tonight, now capturing you in your full glammed-out look. The first time had been a few hours ago when your team arrived to begin setting up and get all of you ready. 

The entire cast now stands stretched out in front of the large screen that will air the movie later, your arms around each other as you smile for the cameras. Promotional pictures shine behind you on the screen, serving as a perfect backdrop as they cycle through their predetermined slideshow.

Eventually, you all disperse to greet some guests. 

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Choi. It's wonderful seeing you again." 

"I hope you enjoy our performances, Mrs. Lee. Your support has meant the world to us." 

"Ah, Jeong! How've you been?" 

Countless faces pass by as you work hard to greet everyone, knowing full well your company will be upset if you slack off now. It's everyone's big night, so they obviously can't have their leading lady stopping for even a minute. 

You're almost ready to run to the restroom in order to have a moment to yourself, free of prying eyes and judgemental stares; but what you hear next sends a chill down your spine, an all too familiar ache in your chest. 

It's Jennie. She's laughing that wonderful laugh of hers, taking you back in time to when you first heard it. Her members must've said something really hilarious, because all of them are doubled over, clutching their stomachs with laughter. 

"Hey again," Jackson greets, and for a second you almost want to tell him to leave you alone. You don't, though, knowing you have no right to pull something like that. 

"YG's girl group just got here. Do you want to say hello?" Of course you do. You want to run into Jennie's arms and spin her around, reveling in the way her arms would surely wrap around you in that warm embrace that's so uniquely hers. You want to tell her a stupid joke to make her laugh again, like she had just a few moments ago. You want to talk to her. 

But you don't.

"No, not right now. I'm going to visit with my family, if that's alright with you." 

"Sure, sure." He says considerately, unwrapping his arm from you. You press a friendly kiss to his cheek as a thank you, letting it serve as a goodbye as well. 

"Eomma!" You shout, squeezing through the crowd when you spot her at one of the banquet tables lining the front of the room. The rest of the space is filled with rows of chairs, already set out for when the movie premieres. 

"Ah, baby girl. We're so proud of you." She says, holding you in a tight embrace as tears spill from her eyes. Her arms bring you comfort like no other, and you're beyond grateful to have her here tonight. Some of your friends stand behind her, too, waiting for their turn to say hello. 

Jennie watches you interact with them from across the room, and she feels a pang of sadness run through her. She's not naive to how these things work: your other cast mates had come over to greet her and girls, snapping pictures and even starting meaningful conversations in some cases -- all of that meaning you had been given the opportunity to do the same, but turned it down. Do you not want to see her? Maybe she had misjudged your night together. You are an actress, after all. 

She shakes her head, physically willing the thoughts to go away as she turns her focus to whatever new person was talking to them now. She continues stealing glances in your direction, finding you looking somewhere else every time. She'd give just about anything to have you look at her, if only for a moment. Just a glance, she thinks to herself, praying the universe hears her pleas. They seem to fall on deaf ears, though, because before she knows it the MC is calling all of you onto stage and the guests are directed to their seats. 

"Let's welcome the cast of Empress of the Heart!" The MC says cheerily, tucking his notecard underneath his arm in order to clap along with the audience. "They've spent months working hard for this project, travelling to filming locations in different countries, learning new languages, and facing their fears. We hope all of you thoroughly enjoy their performances. Now, I'll hand it over to our leads." 

You and Jackson bow towards the audience, waving at them politely as they applaud you again. He looks at you, a silent question of if you want to speak first, and you nod. Taking the mic from him, you say, "Firstly, I'd like to thank our incredible cast and crew. They played just as important a role in this movie as Jackson and I, and we're endlessly grateful for their hard work." More cheers ring out at your kind hearted show of appreciation, and you speak up again once they've died down. 

"These past few months have been some of the best of my life, and I owe that to people like you, and my fans. Thank you for taking a chance on me and supporting me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." You say sincerely, looking into the camera that's recording all of this for exclusive content. When the movie drops for the public in a couple weeks, they'll be able to buy this tape as well and see highlights from the premiere. The thought of your fans watching it from the comfort of their own homes, yelling praises at their screens, makes you smile. 

Jackson takes over now, smoothly transitioning into his own mini speech of thanks. You stop your eyes from meeting the one pair that they so desperately want to, always keeping them trained on other parts of the crowd. If you allow your resolve to crumble, you'll get lost in her all over again and potentially screw up one of the biggest nights of your life. You can't take a risk like that. 

You laugh at something Jackson says, some joke about how you had to face your fear of heights for a scene in the movie, and Jennie takes a deep breath. She's not exactly jealous, but yet that's precisely the feeling that creeps its way into her chest. She knows that you're avoiding her for some reason, but she has no idea why. Did she do something wrong? 

--------

Why, why, did they have to sit Blackpink in the row right behind you? It's karmic, the universe's way of pushing you back to each other, but you don't know how to feel about it all. You can feel her eyes boring into you as each new scene plays, silently begging for you to turn around and talk to her, even if it's impolite to do so in the middle of a movie.

You don't, though, fighting every fiber of your being to keep yourself from giving in. 

Despite the emotions that swirl within her that pay little mind to the number they're doing on her heart, she actually finds herself enjoying parts of the movie. It's bittersweet, seeing you up there, but you command the screen in a way that seems to steal all coherent thoughts from her brain. You're truly skilled, and she gets a kick out of watching you hide behind your hands in embarrassment when your co-stars offer whispered praises.

During one scene in particular, though, Jennie's eyes drop to the floor, her teeth clenched together tightly. Your character just saved Jackson's from certain doom, and the two of you are sharing a long-overdue kiss. The rest of the crowd lets out approving noises at this, but Jennie is comforted by her members' soft smiles and reassuring touches. You feel guilty, for some reason, knowing that anything you were a part of made Jennie so upset. It shouldn't matter, though -- I mean, it's not like you and Jackson are actually together -- but still, it hurts Jennie to see him kiss you and hold you in the ways she wants to. 

The rest of the night carries on much the same, but later on, once you get enough courage to look for Jennie, she's gone. The other girls are too, and a sinking feeling settles in your chest. Gone -- again -- just like all that time ago. Your reasons for staying away from her were legitimate, but they felt nothing of the sort as you glanced around the crowd again. 

The movie ended earlier, already getting good marks and reviews from the critics who came to view it, and now the "afterparty" of sorts was kicking in. You hadn't expected the girls to stay long after the movie, but you'd at least hoped to utter a word to them, if nothing else. A smile would've sufficed. 

Realizing she's really gone, you let out a sad sigh and make your way down the hall, towards the large doors that lead to the balcony. If anything can clear your mind right now, surely it's a chilly breeze. 

You lay an arm against the sturdy railing, leaning on it as you massage your neck. All of the stress you've been put under is showing in the form of painful knots, far too many to get rid of in one go. You sigh, letting your head lull forward and lay against your arm.

"And here I was thinking I wouldn't see you again."

At the utterance, you turn around to find her leaned up against the stone wall of the building with a playful smirk on her lips. She's back to her old self in an instant, but you can sense the undertones of nervousness in her voice. 

The darkness of the night that envelops you two makes her eyes look even more feline -- even more alluring -- and it takes everything in you not to lose your train of thought. 

"Jennie." Her name comes out as a pleased declaration more than anything else, a familiar flutter taking over your heart at the sight of her. It's a warm feeling in your chest, and you never want it to go away. 

You try not to focus on the sensual swaying of her hips or the teasing look in her eye as she pushes herself away from the wall to approach you. 

"I thought you left." You breathe out, remembering how sad you were earlier. 

"Without getting you alone first? How could I?" The implication behind her words gives you pause, causing a blush to begin forming on your cheeks. You curse yourself for being so easy.

"I've missed you like crazy," she confesses, allowing herself to be vulnerable again. Now in front of you, she brushes the back of her fingertips against your cheek as you look into her eyes. 

"I've missed you, too -- more, probably," you say, the declaration sounding like an embarrassed sigh as it leaves your lips. She smiles at that -- her genuine, gummy smile that you've missed so much -- and your heart flutters again. 

She debates on asking the question that sits on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be answered. "Why didn't you greet me before, at the party?" Her voice is small now, insecure, as she avoids your gaze and stills her movements. 

"I-..." you start, finding yourself at a loss for words. Should you tell her how you feel?

"I was afraid you'd throw me off my game. You're pretty distracting, you know?" You reply, nudging her shoulder playfully. A hint of a smile tugs at her cheeks, unsure if it should finish the job and turn into a big one. 

"I thought I did something wrong." She informs.

"Not at all. In fact, you did things a little too right, if you ask me. I can't stay away from you, Jennie." Her heart trips and stumbles over itself in its pursuit of gaining a steady rhythm again, thrown off course by your words. 

Growing brave, she suggests, "Go on a date with me, then. I wanna have more nights like that with you." She whispers that last part, ghosting her fingertips over your skin to awaken the memories. 

"I'd like that," you smile, leaning in to kiss her lips. It's soft and gentle, much like your first one, and your heart hammers in your chest. It seems to forget that you've done this before, choosing instead to subject you to the giddiness you felt that first time with her. 

She pulls back to rest her forehead against yours, settling her arms around your waist, saying, "I've wanted to do that all night." You smile for the millionth time because of her, happy with how things have turned out.

"Do it again, then." 

And she does. 

[binniesthighs]

multifandom soulmate aus ✨

soulmate (n): a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

✨ a/n: hello hello!! today on, “Ro’s self indulgent fics” ehehe i’ve been thinking a lot about some of my favorite kpop besties and how i feel like sometimes in a group, there’s the members who just stick like glue and it’s kinda like they were destined to meet that way! anyway hehe this concept is so fkn cute to me so i wanted to make some poly r-ship headcannons with some of my favorites! 

➛ disclaimer: the pairings that i use are def not all inclusive of all “soulmate” pairings out there, just the ones i know of atm! also, i know some of these groups better than others, so some will be more specific, and others a little more general! 

✨ groups included: stray kids, ateez, the boyz, monsta x, seventeen, txt, bts 

✨ feedback is always appreciated! who’s your favorite?✨

➛maybe if we’re feelin’ spicy i can do a part 2 with the ones i haven’t done yet ;) 

Pairing: idol x female reader x idol (see fandoms above!) 

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: established r/ship au, poly r-ship, sexual content (the usual stuff also including unprotected sex-please stay safe!) comfort ahhh, mentions of food alcohol  

*all photocreds go to ops :) 

both sfw and nsfw under the snip snip! 

♡ chanlix ♡

sfw

omg where the hell do i start with chanlix we love our cannon soulmates 

arguably the softest fkn pairing on this list; being soulmates with chanlix is like meeting your other halves (thirds?). there’s some serious destiny at work here!! 

the three of you understand each other on a spiritual level--almost to the point where you could likely read their minds if you wanted to try haha. there’s also a really, really strong type of emotional intimacy that you share with them that’s out of this world. 

this soulmate bond is so fkn strong, the three of you could go through any hardships and come out of it stronger than ever! 

the three of you have cute lil nicknames for eachother that you thought up yourselves! 

 your families are close as heck! it’s really pure how by the three of you so many people can get close ahhh 

i think that chanlix would be really into more outdoorsy dates? camping, swimming, hiking, sightseeing, stargazing, picnics etc! felix also loves taking you on food tours! 

bc chan is chan, he really takes on such a protective role over you and felix, he would quite literally do anything for you two: forgot your notebook or documents on the way to work/school? he’ll drop everything to bring them to you. sad? he’ll get you your favorite food, tons of blankets, his hoodie to wear and your favorite movie/tv show to watch with you! if anyone hurts your feelings too he will square tf up. 

felix is the world’s most adoring boyfriend in so, so many ways. not only is he such a cuddle bug, he shows you that he cares with tons of acts of service similar to chan! this comes in the form of his baking of course and other silly little gifts he sees that reminds you of him. he isn’t the best at words sometimes, but will soothe you by giving you a little massage or by playing with your hair! 

nsfw 

okay...😏 damn i’ve been wanting to write some poly chanlix so fkn bad ahhhh 

once again i really see chan taking the lead in more intimate situations. he really likes giving directions and seeing both you and felix carry them out! honestly he gets a bit of an ego boost seeing the both of you all whiny and fucked out ahhh 

here i come with my softsub!felix agenda oops hehe but this boy is frickin’ angelic for you and chan oml, he always asks for permission before he does things and eats praise up with a fkn spoon. praises alone really get him off: “does lixie like it when i play with his cute cock like this?” 

there’s something that gets the three of you ridiculously amped when you do all kinds of roleplay scenarios FRICK some favorites are pet play (you and lix being the kitties) teacher/student, roleplaying strangers, sex slaves, artist/muse, oh my god there was a halloween where you once did vampire roleplay you still think about it 🤤 

since the three of you are so comfortable with eachother, experimentation feels really safe! for example, the suggestion of shibari came up and now....let’s just say lix looks really pretty tied up ;) 

chan’s got a huuuuge (cock) and size kink!! he really likes topping both you and lix and seeing a bulge omg.... also when he can bulge your throats mmmhm! 

felix loves it especially when you ride his face, and he cold do it for hours! he looks so cute between your legs when he licks over and over your clit. he’ll ask you too if he’s doing good and you better say yes ;) 

favorite position would be all cuddled up and cozy with the two of them double penetrating you real nice and slow with tons of kisses and just touchin’ all over 

cockwarming cockwarming all day, every single time, without fail, it feels wrong if you finish without it! 

♡ woosan  ♡

sfw 

idk why but the first thing that comes to my mind is that in certain settings, ya’ll are loud as fuck AHA i guess what i mean to say as that as a trio, you are all super, super unapologetic and confident when around each other! this might have lead to you getting kicked out of a couple bowling alleys and karaoke places before... 

there’s a type of unspoken understanding that the three of you have that makes your bond so special. while you love eachother so dearly, it isn’t something that you really feel needs to be said out loud, it kind of just is! 

woosan are already really clingy on their own and when you come along?? you all can’t keep your hands off each other!! ya know how in movies there’s the whole “hand in the back pocket of your jeans???” woosan!! 

their energy together is so fkn chaotic but that's why you love them! they never fail to make you laugh and this is also the best way that they know how to cheer you up! 

Bc the three of you are a bit unbridled, it’s a bit hard to be serious at times when you go on dates/hang out with friends together so often you get some affectionate eye rolls haha 

wooyoung is someone that will try anything with you! hehe even if he knows that he mind not be that into it, he’ll still go with you! of course, he might say something snarky but he really does love just spending time with you! wooyoung also shares you with all his friends (changbin, yeonjun) so lowkey it feels like you’re one of the bros at times LOL 

san is a big fan of giving you gifts! oh also! words of affirmation too, san is someone who knows your insecurities well, so hypes you tf up all the time!! he especially loves buying things for you that he knows you’ll look pretty in just so he can compliment you ahhh 

at the end of the day however, there’s nothing more more that the three of you love than the tightest cuddles ever as you fall asleep! honestly, sometimes its a little too tight haha 

nsfw 

THESE BOYS FKN RAVISH YOU LIKE YOU’RE A FIVE COURSE MEAL 

and of course they expect the same from you as well! i mean....can you blame them??? these boys are sexy as hell and they frickin’ know it!! 

i have this super clear image of both of them stripping you down and rubbing massage oil all over your body and then giving you the turn to do it to them my lord...

sort of along this line, temperature play makes these boys feral. wax, ice, blowies with popsicles you name it 

both of them really just like being touched all over because they have the prettiest dancer’s bodies and just feeling hands on their muscles makes them loose it. 

wooyoung loves to mark the hell out the both of you in a really territorial way: all over your chests and necks even on your thighssss 

san, while he often does find himself in sub space, really easily can switch to dom you in the most beautiful way. everything with him is really intimate and raw: if this wasn’t already obvious haha he would like have a hand kink and loves seeing the way that his fingers look pumping in and out of your entrance and how your juices look as well. 

back too wooyoung, he’s the king of oral. whether it’s going down on you and sucking at your clit or deep throating with master level skill...foreplay is never boring with him! 

in my brain, i can see the both of them filling nearly position so this makes for an interesting dynamic to say the least AHA 

every once and a while, they’ll let you take complete control of the both of them while they just sit back and watch you with the most smug-ass grins that you’ll see in your life! 

AH another thought: woosan fkn love when you squirt on them, in any way this might look: when you’re nearly screaming in your overstimulation they want it all over them. 

favorite position would be 69 threesome style with all of your sloppy moans in-between <3 

♡  moonbae  ♡

sfw 

HEAR ME OUT the king of soulmates that know that they are soulmates but don’t take it seriously in the slightest istg this is my most favorite dynamic ahhhh 

there is not one dull day with these two boys, they’ll have you laughing in stiches until you can barely breathe like, the best kind of wheezy, silent laughter ya know what i’m talking about 

INSIDE JOKES literally so many inside jokes with the three of you 

Kevin is never scared to call your ass out, but that’s bc he knows you so well!! it’s all just jokes don’t ya worry ;) 

Along this line, your groupchat like has some random-ass name that’s also an inside joke

Jacob on the other hand is the biggest sweetheart when it comes to you, boy frickin’ melts. There is not a day that goes by when he hasn’t told you he loves ya morning and night. 

Also the best listener in the whole world, you can tell him anything and everything and he’s just sit and listen and give advice. 

Kevin loves you a ton a ton but just shows it differently! He remembers all the little things about you that you tell him to the point it’s scary how he does it so well 

Meme king Kevin would send you memes that remind him of you and Jacob

Lowkey i can see the both of them getting into the cutest petty arguments like which one of them you love more or think is more talented AHA again it’s all in good fun hehe 

it goes without saying but...it’s cuddle central up in here. 

THEY WOULD SERENADE TF OUT OF YOU oh my god it’s literally heavenly, Kevin would play piano and Jacob would play guitar FRICK 

You have oddly specific dates?? Like they would pick a movie to go see that the three of you would all hate just to meme the whole time. Jacob would still get invested accidentally tho. 

The way to both of these boy’s hearts is their stomachs so when you cook for them they would quite literally do anything for you 

nsfw 

ok ok so i’m a baby deobi so this is the gist of what i’m getting (i also did a little research LOL thank you @ deobi smutblr hehe) 

firstly i would like to say that i’m manifesting thigh riding with Jacob and i literally can’t think of anything else for some reason just p h e w and BOY does he love it too he thinks its so fkn cute to watch you! 

i get heavy, heavy switch vibes from Kevin with maybe some sub leanings??? either way, jacob def has soft dom vibes (oh god and occasional soft sub) to me but also has no problem with you taking control and doing what you like to him if that’s what you desire! 

kevin is impatient impatient and does not do well with your teasing. also...loud as hell, like, sometimes you have to tell him that he needs to calm tf down hehe (but of course you love it when he gets like that) 

separately, both of them are very different experiences i think: kevin is a fan of hard and fast, kitchen counter over the sofa type stuff sloppy toppy in risky places, and he loves to experiment too! 

jacob is also really different where he likes much, much more slow and intimate stuff like missionary, shower sex, real atmospheric stuff like candles and nice scents ahhh BIG fan of really fluffy pet names too like baby, princess, angel etc. super visual too omggg gets hard when you strip for him i think ;) 

together it’s a fkn whirlwind i’ll tell ya that. its like, honestly the most unique experience i can think of on this list because the two of them are so different. i will say that it can end up being really giggly and sweet tho! 

when it’s the three of you, kevin’s dom side comes out a little more so you’re left with these two lovely boys who want to give you all the attention! it’s lowkey a competition lol 

favorite position is when you’re sucking jacob off and kevin gets to do literally whatever the hell he wants with your pussy...i imagine that it might have to do a lot with edging if you ask me ;) 

♡ jookyun  ♡ 

sfw

oddly, i find myself soft af for jookyun and idk how to describe it haha (considering that they can often be hard as hellll) 

the three of you are also really nonchalant, but this is really in the way that you just feel as if you’ve known eachother for a really long time! 

as we know, jookyun were a bit of an enimies to lovers arc (AHA) so with the time that they’ve spent building their bond, it’s strong asf! 

i like to think that jooheon and changkyun would really get a ton of artistic inspiration from you for their music. since both of them write and often reflect bc of this, you’re totally their muse! (they’ll write some nasty as hell lyrics thanks to you too LOL) 

while our lovely thicc mx boys have unbridled confidence at times, really, they are babie. and they are frickin weak for your pampering. 

because of this, the two of them would become flustered as all hell when you do lil things for them!! this could be making them some lunch or just giving them the off compliment that they look a lil extra handsome that day. 

your safe place is with them!! ahhh i would also like to add the number of slick ass grabs when you’re in public is a bit off the chain at times ahah 

the duality of this r/ship is really something to note LOL when you go out and about when the two of them you certainly get some stares bc they look a lil intimidating at times but when you and your boyfriends cuddle up on the subway you give all passerby's whiplash haahah

Kyun is someone who is insanely romantic. almost to the point that it is cheesy haha he’d treat the both of you to expensive ass dinners, beach vacations and maybe even matching couple’s jewelry like rings or bracelets! 

jooheon on the other hand is a little more toned down haha but has another side to him that fkn swells with pride knowing how breathtaking you both are...frankly, his ego skyrockets knowing that he’s got you both for arm candy if this make sense teehee 

the three of you call eachother “babe” interchangeably, so it can get a bit confusing when you’re all in the same place and someone says “hey babe?” you need a new nickname ooP 

nsfw 

hello and here i am to push the sub!changkyun agenda. first and foremost i would like to explain how this man is such a pillow princess with the most lovely bratty edge *sighs* all that kyun wants is for you to fkn use him and do literally whatever the hell you want!! this man daydreams about you riding him right then and there wherever the hell he is. 

also, kyun is the king of toys, both using them on you and on himself! need i also say breath play as well in the same giving and receiving form? more than anything he loves it when jooheon wraps his hand around his neck hooooly ahhh he prefers it when you tease his tip with a vibrator until he’s angrily red and begging for you to give him a break just for you to bend down and give a kiss to his pearly head which makes him jolt 

jooheon is often more of a soft to hard dom if you ask me and takes care of both you and kyun really well. also... he will manhandle the hell out of you if you feel up for it (cough cough your arm kink for him ) oh shit and his thighs....don't’ even get me started 

while the three of you often opt for the hard and fast (even in some more risque places--such as in the recoding studio) there are really some more intimate times that you share too! 

on one of changkyun’s vacations, in the middle of the night, when no one was in sight and the hot tub was free for use...it started out as a bit of making out but then turned into something else when you decided to straddle jooheon and he let his hands creep under the straps of your swimsuit...needless to say you were bouncing on both of their dicks while you were warmed by the crackling bubbles 

at times, jookyun can get a little needy and impatient without you, so this has lead to a couple situations where you walk in on them letting out their frustrations ;) of course, immediately then they’d love for you to join! 

kyun has an oral fixation too, sooo he may or may not love cockwarming with his mouth or sucking your fingers lightly when you go to suck his dick~ 

♡  junhao  ♡

sfw

here me out with this one...but...there’s something really intimate about this relationship?? oh how to put this into words LOL junhao also have an insanely deep bond that really transcends if ya ask me haha 

while they both can be really goofy around eachother when comfortable the soulmate vibes are just...immaculate! this is all i can say? all three of you are just so connected in the way that you accept each other for all that you are and just kind of naturally gravitate towards each other even before you really knew that there were romantic feelings involved! 

first, i would like to say that out of all the pairings on this list, you three are classy as FUCK. seeing the three of you next to eachother is like seeing literally three models in the flesh. the way that you dress (sometimes even to match a little) is unbelievable bc you all just look so good? 

hand holdingggg wherever you go! holding hands across cafe tables, playing with each other’s hands absentmindedly hehe 

TRAVEL BUDDIES you would go anywhere with them and take tons of pics!! i mean the prettiest pics 

hao shows his love for you in the form of so many things, all of which he makes himself!! you inspire his physical art and drawings which he shares with you and he also loves to take clothes too and personalize them for you! 

jun on the other hand would take you to the studioooo and you could watch him danceee oh my gosh he’s literally so breathtaking and he would be dancing just for you with every curve of his body he’s so magical :’) then he’d ask you for feedback and you’d just be speachless...also loves to make you smile!! just being his goofy self he’s the best at it and thinks you’re so cute! 

there’s a ton of adoration in this relationship! tons of cute little displays of skinship that might look like a poke in the cheek or the fluffing of their hair ahh 

still, i feel like you would have kind of silly little nicknames for them that match their personalities and perhaps...you could have matching phone cases with these nicknames.... 

in this relationship there’s a ton of quiet moments that are really peaceful and indulgent such as watching sunsets, drinking wine together, just talking about life n stuff like that! 

nsfw 

hellz yeah we’re in for some more intimate-ass fuckin! but also....😏

this boys are kinky as shit but in like a really classy ass way lolll this is so hard to put into words. 

well, i’ll start with junhui catboy agenda so there’s that hehehe he would most def be into pet play: that could be like ears or pretty collars and of course calling you (or him) kitten. 

minghao is really versatile and doesn’t really like labels of dom and sub, he just does what he wants and what feels good to him! bc we’re talking about how intimate everything is, the kind of sex that you share with them is often never rushed but really purposeful and even planned sometimes! 

i also see there being TONS of sensory items that would come into play with junhao such as flowers, fragrances, aphrodisiacs, all kinds of fabrics for sensory deprovision such as velvet, silk, hemp rope, and so much more! 

BOTH OF THEM WOULD SOUND ANGELLIC i see hao as letting out really pretty soft moans that kind of trail on his tongue and jun sort of choking out gasps with a bit of a rasp to them when they cum or they feel turned on

oh god MIRROR SEX that's what i have to say about this 

it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes when any one of you would be feeling needy or pent up they can certainly do hard and fast with you between the two of them. especially when this happens, oh my god hao loves it when you moan really breathily into his mouth when you’re pressed against him ooooh shit 

and jun loves it when you bite into his shoulder too when he fucks you it just makes him feral 

actually, i could really see the three of you recording yourselves, or even taking pictures when you have more intimate moments to look at later, just for your own enjoyment or to get off when you’re without the others 

favorite position: hmmm mirror sex with you on top of minghao literally just kissing him and marking his body as jun eats you out until you’re dripping down to minghao’s cock which he jerks off too~ 

♡  yeonbin  ♡

sfw 

DON’T TOUCH ME IM SOFT  

admittedly i don’t know too much about this pairing but i do know a lil so i wanted to add them!! i also did a lil research hehe 

FIRST i would like to say that the three of you would without a doubt have the cutest puppy together, if not one, then two!! they would be little dogs with perfect haircuts and likely have their own instagram account which the three of you would run! they’d be instragram famous of course 

LITERALLY EVERY DAY ITS A FIGHT OVER WHOS CUTEST i kid you not this is an ongoing battle you’re all just...so weak for the other ahaha 

being in a relationship with them is like being in a relationship with your bestfriends! 

dates with the two of them can really range all over the place bc you just like having fun together! movie dates, breakfast dates, ZOO OR AQUARIUM DATES, taking little trips to places you haven’t been before or stay at home dates like having a little indoor picnic! 

soobin is really low energy, and would often opt to hang out with you at home or at a cafe while the two of you do your thing together! he lovessss when you bake or cook for him, literally whatever it is he’ll eat it! 

his smile is instant serotonin and the reason why you fell in love with him! the two of them together all smiley is your lockscreen! 

yeonjunie prefers going out with you clothes shopping and would DEF enable you to dye your hair a color that you’ve always been dying to do! he also loves showing you new music and blushes like heck when you tell him that you like the songs that he picks! 

in their own playful ways too, they’d always call you out on your bs LOLL but they just wanna motivate you! they’re your biggest cheerleaders! 

Deep down though, both of them are quite cheesy and would love to shower you with alll the stereotypical romance that you can take even if it makes all three of you cringe ahahah 

nsfw

NEEEEDY and literally so mf horny on the dl like it’s comical to how soft and shy they can be in real life situations 

oh my god this is a godly thought but i see both of them being both switchy as heck but not really bc they like how it feels to be in those different postions but literally....bc no matter what it is they are getting off lolll 

i see both of them having sub leanings but can get real bratty if they’re feeling it. 

yeonjun does have a dom side to him that just comes with his general confidence that he gets around you! when either of you beg from him he’s ready to let himself loose. 

im so sorry but they literally handed pet play to me on a silver platter with cat & dog and there is no going back for me. SO you’re in for puppy, kitty and bunny play (shhhh yeonjun’s got his fox ears too) 

WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HOW ALL OF YOU WOULD LIKE THIGH HIGHS

both of them love being edged to high hell by you...no matter if it hurts...they kinda like it? 

at the same time, both of your boyfriends also love giving you all the attention at times too! i’m talking about one of them playing with your breasts while the other trails kisses down your body all the way down to your pussy aching for attention too

FUCK this might be just me but soobin eating you out>>>> a GODLY sight. 

i have this other fantasy of yeonjun with either lip piercings or nipple piercings or even a dick piercing someone plz tell me to calm down 

oh please...bubble bath with the two of them holy shit baby pink bubbles all around you while you take turns givin’ each other cute kisses ahhhh 

one more thing to the pile here would be hella mutual masturbation soo much of it. the three of you get off just simply watching eachother too and dirty talking how much you love the way the others look with hands rubbing themselves away with cute whiny moans~ 

♡ taekook ♡

sfw 

omg! this is my first time remotely talking about bts on my blog hehe this is so exciting!! i don’t really read too much bts ff so this is going off of my own perception! 

i just wanna say....there’s so much to unpack here LOL but like many of the soulmates on this list, these boys are ~whipped~ for you and eachother!! its so stinkin’ cute 

another thing about these expensive boyfriends is that they loooove to sing for you too! they’d sing you to sleep, when you’re sick, sad, or just had a hard day allllways hehe 

the three of you have sickeningly adorable nicknames for eachother, the kind that honestly make heads turn LOL 

jk would without a doubt get tattoos with you!! and wine drunk lollll he’s also a huge enabler so if there’s anything that you’re considering buying or doing he’d hype you up so bad you barely have to think twice heheh 

kinda like junhao they’d also make amazing travel buddies but less for the aesthetic, but for the luxury. you’d stay at amazing hotels and eat at Michelin star restaurants wearing luxury brands that they bought for you

i feel like this goes without saying, buuuut in this r/ship, its alll about the adoring glances from afar or even just right next to you bc they love you so much!! 

i also get a very protective vibe from them as well, you’re very special to them, and they never wanna see you in harms way or disrespected by anyone! this could even look like having their arm around you on the bus or on the small of your back in a crowd 

together, they’re the biggest jokesters and flirty as HELL they think that it’s so funny when they flirt out in public AGRESSIVELY just to make you a lil embarrassed hehe  

forehead kissessss and kisses on the back of your hand! 

nsfw 

luxurious in this area tooooo 

they would rent out the penthouse or presidential suite to make an evening for you and pull out all the stops: expensive champagne, lingerie selected just for you, a breathtaking view of the city ahhhh 

ya all know how much i love my soft and intimateeee body touching and there would be plenty of this! they take their time undressing you and eachother and would plant kisses into the nape of your neck and shoulders as you do so! 

i would like to contribute to this conversation sub!jk bc this is something that ahhhhh i really like to think about as well as soft dom tae bcccc why not heheh 

these boys are utterly gorgeous under soft lighting and prowling all over your body too tho ahhh 

BUT! imagine teasing the hell out of jk, barely letting him feel your mouth besides fleeting kisses while tae drives his hips into you from behindddd 

in fact, these boys actually don’t mind a little voyeurism with the wide windows in your suite, opting to leave them open so there's a bit of thrill in the way that they fuck you too~ 

tae has a bit of...dare i sayyyy a power kink, so when you call him names such as sir, daddy, master etc oh boy 

jk himself is bit into sensory dep specifically with blindfolds especially when its your hands travelling all around his body making him shiver. 

both of them just looove cuming all over you as well: face, ass, thighs, belly, literally anywhere, they just think that you look amazing like that! 

there are a couple times here and there when the three of you also do a bit of cam work together for other people to watch--although it isn’t often, you rake it in when you do so. the three of you are a perfect fantasy! 

sex also can happen in odd places with you three too since you can just start feeling it and don’t really care ;) strangest place....hmm i’d say when you joined the mile high club with them~ 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[scatterpatter]

"Where's the essay OP" Said no one, and yet here I am

Lampy isn't stupid, he's neruodivergent: a rushed-together masterpost

Disclaimer: I'm not a liscened medical professional but I'm neurodivergent who's close to many neurodivergent people so I know when certain traits strike me as very familiar... Also tblt is my comfort movie I've seen it probably over 100 times, not exaggerating, so if anyone here's an expert on it, it's me.

I'm only going by the first movie because while To The Rescue and Goes To Mars probably have evidence to back me up, I don't feel like sitting down to watch them as I don't have them as memorized as the original

Point #1: Lampy is arguably the most intelligent appliance in the movie

Honestly it apalls me that so many are convinced that Lampy is an idiot when he displays some of the most intelligent traits in the movie. I'll just list off some of the most important scenes that show this

1: When discussing a way to get to the city, Lampy comes up with plans that end up failing, true. But we should also consider that not only did Radio and Toaster come up with bad plans before deciding on the swivel chair, but 2/3 of Lampy's ideas involved the same mechanic: on something with wheels(yes the mattress had wheels for some reason) being powered by Kirby

2: "From here you can see the really big lamp!" This scene is simply due to the appliances being sheltered from the outside world. Lampy displays the same level of naive-ness as everyone else: Radio seems earnest in calling the sun a "really big lamp", and Kirby calls the grass "shag carpet". Lampy is not at a lower intelligence in this scene, he's exactly at the same level as everyone else

3: The scene with the storm really sells his intelligence. The appliances have a rudimentary understanding of electricity, most likely from being appliances, but Lampy displays an excelled level of understanding by sacrificing himself for the battery. He understands that batteries are powered by electricity, lightning is electricity, and by using himself as a lightning rod, he acts as the conductive metal to easily transfer this energy from the bolt to the battery. Technically this should have overcharged and fried the battery but we'll suspend disbelief for the sake of this movie.

4: He knew that stacking the appliances to roughly human height, creating a dark environment with ominous sounds, and putting Toaster at eye-level to scare the human with his own reflection... Again, this is an intelligent understanding of how to scare a human

5: It's unclear on whose idea it was to look up Rob in a phone book, however this shows that not only can Lampy read(most likely picked up from being Rob's reading light), ESPECIALLY when Toaster struggles to read, but also has an understanding of phone books, addresses, and finding humans based on family names. I cannot stress how intelligent this is for a sentient desk lamp

There's a few more minor examples, but these are the biggest cases. Lampy is intelligent.

Point #2: Lampy struggles with social cues and doesn't empathize as easily as others

My biggest point here is when people think neruodivergents are "dumb" for having trouble picking up on things like sarcasm when that just... isn't the case. A few notable examples include:

1: When Air Conditioner says "You're a real bright little lamp", Lampy doesn't pick up the sarcasm and thinks he's being complimented. Though he definitely shows a level of emotional intelligence because he looks to Toaster to confirm "hey I was complimented", sees they're still looking angry, and gets the hint that he was insulted without someone needing to explicitly tell him that, to which he then responds with "Heyyy >:("

2: Sometimes he's able to read the room and pick up on tones, but other times he shows a level of emotional density. Legitimately not knowing if Rob had returned even when seeing Blanky disappointed to the point of near tears... But then knowing "brains wouldnt hurt either" was a jab at their intelligence and reacting with appropriate annoyance... But also when Radio says "Things could be worse!", doesn't realize he's just saying that to make Toaster feel better and asks "How could they be worse?"

3: He bullies Blanky alongside Radio and the others, unclear if he's actually being a jerk or just "oh this is what everyone else is doing so this is the normal way to act", but he's legitimately confused when Toaster tries to explain why they're suddenly being nice to him. He doesn't get the "now I feel better" argument because his argument was "Well you were never this nice to him before". Even when Toaster tries to explain why it feels nice, it just doesn't click... until Toaster finds a way to explain that connects personally to Lampy's own emotional state. He has trouble empathizing until realizing "oh this is like this thing that I feel sometimes"

4: Something I've noticed when gathering evidence is that more than once, Lampy goes "Wow..." After someone gloats about themself(Twice with Radio, once with the Computer). It's clear by the third time, when Radio goes "What does that mean?" And Lampy responds "I don't know. [To Computer] What does that mean?" That he doesn't even know what's being gloated about, let alone why he should be impressed. He has the emotional intelligence to recognize when someone's gloating and the "appropriate" response of amazement, but it seems like it never comes from a place of earnest. (While Neurotypicals can and do engage in "performative" behavior, I tend to notice this way more commonly with neurodivergents)

Also the "wow..." Performative thing is VERY reminiscent of Peridot from Steven Universe(a characters who many autistic fans see themselves in and the creator herself saying she doesn't consider Peridot or any of the gems to be neurotypical) going "wow thanks" as her default "this is how I've been taught to show gratitude" response

Point #3: Miscellaneous traits that could be neurodivergent

These traits COULD be interpreted as neurodivergent, but I will admit they could also be interpreted as something else so like take these with a grain of salt

1: Lampy appears to have sensory needs. When sleeping, he needs to tap a rock a few times(presumably to make sure it's "right") before clonking his head on it. It's interesting because rocks aren't a very "lamp" thing whatsoever, and none of the other appliances look for pillow-ish objects to rest on, so this could be a sensory thing.

2: Lampy has an interesting vocal quirk: repetition of phrases at the beginning and end of a sentence. Instances include "How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?" "All of a sudden you're being so darn nice to him all of a sudden" "The fact is there's just not enough facts" The third one is a bit of a stretch but the first two seem to indicate a possible pattern of speech. Part of me wants to say this could be a verbal tic or some type of verbal stimming, but I've never met anyone who has a tic or stim like this so I can't say it's a neurodivergent thing with confidence, but I wanted to mention this quirk regardless.

3: Physically saying how he feels. Two instances where multiple characters are laughing, Lampy speaks while laughing "That's funny - I'm dying!" "I'm aching with joy!". It's just interesting that no one else speaks while laughing and for whatever reason, Lampy needs to verbalize "Yes I find this very funny" as if simply laughing along isn't enough. I've seen somewhat similar stuff in neurodivergents who have issues expressing emotions implicitly so they state them explicitly instead.

4: I've noticed Lampy isn't touchy... except with Radio. Some neurodivergent people can have issues with physical contact, which could explain that. But I've also noticed that Radio also gives me huge neurodivergent vibes... But more importantly Radio is extremely touchy with everyone, Lampy included, hence them often getting into physical fights but also just- tapping them or wrapping a cord around the other and pulling him close(they're so in love but that's a post on its own). A possible explanation is Lampy having issues with touching others, but either feels comfortable being touchy with Radio(due to emotional bonds and trust) or simply recognizes "Radio likes being touchy so I should be touchy back". A stretch of an argument, I'll admit, but I think the interpretation is there and valid.

In conclusion

I mean idk if Lampy was written to be neurodivergent or if the writers just wanted him to be "quirky" and accidentally gave him a lot of neurodivergent traits, but he reads as very neurodivergent to me(probably autistic or adhd but I'm not a professional and can't diagnose him). But while I can chalk up neruodivergency being one of many possible interpretations of his character, I WILL argue that he's not "stupid" given the evidence we see throughout the movie

Tl;Dr: Lampy is evidently intelligent, but sometimes struggles with social cues, empathy, and overall shows numerous traits of neurodivergency

[crossguild]

one piece and how i learned to love the fakeout death

this is definitely an unpopular opinion but i have really started to count on and enjoy the fakeout deaths in OP! on a shallow level, i like knowing that these characters I've gotten attached to, who are funny and endearing and strong-willed enough to sacrifice themselves for the people they love, will be able to see their sacrifice come to fruition and celebrate with everyone at the end of the arc

i stopped seeing the value in a sacrifice as based on whether or not the character actually died, but rather on this character's strength of will and their devotion to their dream and their people. just like when nothing happened to zoro, whether or not a character actually shuffles their mortal coil has very little to do with my enjoyment of and emotional impact of the scene.

on a meta level, one piece as a series has set up a pattern of characters being immensely resilient, capable of surviving impossible amounts of damage, and to suddenly change that pattern wouldn't fit with its tone or message, and imo would detract from what made op such a fun and exciting adventure in the first place.

i never needed risk of death to worry about characters who are badly hurt, but being mostly sure they'd eventually be okay (even if they're taken out of the fight) lets me enjoy the story without fear or dread dogging the experience. characters don't need to die in the present day to teach any of the others a lesson because every character has experienced that grief and loss.

none of the strawhats needed a wakeup call about how sudden and unexpected death can be, because they've all experienced it. the character growth they can achieve through grief and the death of those around them has already happened, because they were born into a violent age surrounded by cruelty and death. so many of their stories are about becoming people strong enough to protect those around them, and being able to count on others to do what they themselves can't. deaths for shock value are cheap; there's no better feeling for me than hoping that a character i love, who's become a friend to the crew, is still alive and then finding out that they are.

the deaths that have happened in the present day gutted me emotionally every single time, and part of the reason is how infrequently characters die. when it does happen it always happens in a big way, in a way that meaningfully moves the story forward, and oda giving in to the fans clamoring for bloodshed would detract from the story he's telling. I'm not sure why anyone would expect that pattern to change in wano! kin'emon and okiku's stories aren't over yet; of course they aren't dead. i took IMMENSE comfort from that, but that knowledge didn't detract from their confrontation with kaido. you just go 'oh geez, i know they're not dead, but i really want to know how it'll be explained away' cause... that's the story i know and love! that's the story that's been told for the last 24 years.

i have plenty of criticisms about narrative choices oda has made, most of them around the ignorant and juvenile art and character choices, but i think the lack of death is very deliberate, and it's something that adds to my enjoyment, that i anticipate and rely on as a pillar of the story. if i had to grieve for sodom and gomorrah and the franky family and even cp9, i wouldn't have had any tears left to shed for merry, and that would've been a shame

[tsuumu]

I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING A LOVELY DAY SO FAR 💖 If it’s not too much can I request a scenario with Bokuto and Ushijima where they find out that their s/o is actually a very physically affectionate person but is too shy to voice it out or initiate it. I hope you have a great day 🥺

ushijima, atsumu and kageyama with an s/o that’s very affectionate.

hi anon! i’ve actually already made an overly affectionate s/o headcanon for bokuto, which you can find here. so instead i’ve decided to add tsumu and kags. consider this a part two to the first hc post.

ushijima wakatoshi:

ah yes, my second husband

• ushijima isn’t someone who is utterly alien to the concept of physical contact. that’s something we need to lay on the table right away!

• though, if this were his first serious relationship, i feel like he’d need some time to slowly get used to the romantic nuances and remind himself that it is acceptable and okay to interact your s/o in a way that isn’t strictly platonic.

• you’d probably have to be the one to voice your desire to do it, unfortunately, even if you’re shy. but if you timidly hold his hand, or cling onto him, i’m sure he’d get the memo.

• though it must be said, toshi is big on staying professional in public, he doesn’t see the need for two people to be all over each other for everybody else to see. he cherishes intimate contact with you behind closed doors.

• that doesn’t mean he won’t appriciate your enthusiasm for giving affection though. he’ll love it simply because it’s you and spoiler alert: he loves you dearly.

• he’s an emotional guy when he lets himself be and you’ll be somebody who sees that side of him a lot. you’ll know it’s important to him because most people see him as rather emotionless/stoic/intimidating, when he’s actually very kind, cautious and thoughtful.

• you know that if you stay with him, you’ll both grow much more comfortable with public displays of affection because he admires your confidence and openess.

• i imagine scenarios that include a burst of emotion, like seeing each other after a long time. ushijima picking you up and giving you the sweetest kiss because he’s been wanting to do it for what feels like forever.

• holding onto each other, telling him you feel safe in his arms. he’ll really appriciate being told how much you enjoy physical affection.

•words and forwardness mean a lot to him, so it’ll be slow at first if you’re shy, but pair that with your affection and it’ll work wonders on this man. ushijima is somebody who will appriciate that your love language is physical contact and want to try it out because it makes you happy. he’s a sweetheart.

miya atsumu:

• atsumu is shameless when it comes to physical contact. he’s confident, he’s bold. what else would you expect from the captain?

• we know he has fangirls, so there’s clearly something very attractive about him and something tells me he knows it well. think: oikawa tooru but tbh he’s still a sweet little volleyball baby in my head.

• atsumu is on another level. straight up. don’t worry about being the one to initiate it. he’s all over you when he wants to be. disrespectful mf

• he’ll LOVE an s/o that’s affectionate, but he would have a general threshold and it would depend largely on his mood. some days he’d lap that stuff up and reciprocate your energy, whereas other days he’d be more inclined to want his own space and ease off of that stuff. that’s okay.

• though i can’t shake the feeling he’d be a little bad at handling the times he doesn’t want it. atsumu might end up being hurtful. for example, you ask him if he wants to cuddle because it’s been a long day and he straight up goes ‘not really’ and walks off to do something else. that’d probably sting, especially if you’re shy about it in the first place.

• if you brought it up to him he’d feel bad and apologise, but it’d take him a couple incidents before he’d really change.

• on days he is willing to give you affection, it’s copious and filled with sincerity and love. he’s good at remembering the small things you like. playing with your hair, back rubs, neck kisses.

• come to miya atsumu for heavenly neck kisses, that’s all i’m gonna say.

• he’s a firm believer that his lap is the only place you should be sitting. gets genuinely offended if you sit anywhere else. claims it’s ‘because you’re comforting’ but you’ve noticed that this lap-sitting business is often a segway into more... intimate things. i won’t elaborate.

• like i mentioned with tendou, atsumu is a fan of public displays of affection, especially when it comes to showing people who you belong to. if he caught any boy conversing with you, he’d pull the classic cheek kiss and “hey baby.” just to let them know you’re taken.

• tsumu is a little temperamental, but that’s okay. you still love him. he’ll appriciate your plentiful affection in the long run, and find your hesitation super cute, since you have a similar understanding that physical touch is the best form of communication. go you!

kageyama tobio:

• unlike ushijima, i do see kageyama as a character who would find an overly affectionate s/o difficult to handle. it wouldn’t be so great for him.

• he’s honestly never been that into stereotypical romance. his passion has been volleyball from the start, so the energy an affectionate s/o would put into their physical intimacy, he’s already used up on the court.

• tobio knows you mean well, but most likely, he wouldn’t have dated you in the first place if you were all about that stuff. since hinata is an overly affectionate character, i’d see you more as a best friend type figure in his life. someone he could tease and make fun of, but platonically.

• though if you were shy.. well, i just think you’d be left a little touch starved. like ushi, you’d have to push through that timidness and initiate it.

• that being said, i can actually see moments in a s/o sense where kageyama would enjoy thorough affection and touch, but it would be largely sexual. when he’s aroused, he’s not so focused on how embarrassing it might be, ‘cause he’ll want you pretty badly regardless, meaning he’ll initiate it. this is getting nsfw let me just close my eyes a sec

• kageyama isn’t void of emotion, of course not!he just prefers to show displays of affection in other, more subtle ways. he’d really appriciate gift giving and receiving. he’s the type of guy to genuinely use the things you give him in his daily life.

• to him, you’ve thought about his needs, or at least observed/listened to him and that would turn him into a soft, flustered mess.

• kageyama isn’t all that into physical affection, he just finds it hard and a little embarrassing, but you never know. he could end up surprising you! the fact he’s like that doesn’t make him a bad boyfriend or mean he doesn’t love you. he just has ways of showing it he thinks are more sincere.

[ptergwen]

truth serum

a/n: ok ok ok i've had to post this four times now because it won’t show up in tags for some reason? i’m so :/ tumblr pls stop setting me up bruh. but moving on here’s a summary of the original request and i hope ya like

warnings: little bit of cursing here and there

-

when tom asked if you‘d be interested in going to a comic con with him, there was only one answer: yes. you‘ll take every chance you get to see him in his element. you’re looking forward to checking out some of the cool exhibits they’ll have — and people. comic con is a safe space for all your nerdiness. so really, both of you will be in your element that day.

the only thing you’re uneasy about is tom’s fans. you have no idea how they’ll react to seeing you by his side for hours on end. paparazzi caught you together once or twice, but you couldn’t tell much from their blurry pictures. that didn’t stop everyone from talking.

you’ve been named his new “mystery girl,” and tom still hasn’t adressed the whole situation. no matter how much he loves his fans, he’s not willing to spill every single detail of his personal life. spending time with his girlfriend doesn’t need some big explanation to please the public.

this is the first time you know for sure that you’ll be seen with him. comic cons are huge, and somebody always has their phone out at these things. you don’t want the fans to end up hating you for being there, or tom for bringing you. the way he sees it, they should just be happy he’s happy. anyone who isn’t never truly cared in the first place.

tom usually arrives early to go over his schedule and any last minute details. this time, he’s sleeping in a few hours extra with you. no one knows better than him that all day events can be draining. he wants you well rested and feeling good for it. since people are already at the venue, you’re using a different entrance to avoid getting mobbed.

“stay close, okay? i’m not sure what it’s like in there yet. might be a few people by the door, or a crowd.” you’re walking hand in hand with tom through the back lot. he feels you tense up next to him at the mention of a crowd. they overwhelm the hell out of you, and you’re suddenly feeling way underprepared for this.

“but we’re going in through the back. how are they gonna know that?” you grip his hand tighter without realizing. tom half smirks at your question and leads you over to the door. “my fans figure everything out... almost everything. you ready?”

shrugging your shoulders, you lean into his side for comfort. “sort of. i’m just getting nervous about being around so many people.” “i know, baby. not gonna lie, it’s pretty scary at first. but i’ll be with you the whole time.” he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. you do feel better knowing he won’t leave you alone when you get inside.

“just try turning your nerves into excitement. it works for me every time. “i’ll do my best. i guess we can go in for real now.” tom’s thumb brushes over yours reassuringly, looking at you once more for any signs of doubt before he opens the door.

only a couple of fans notice tom is there, so it’s not as hectic as you thought it would be. he waves to them and says hi, a smile lighting up his face. you chew your lip nervously and let him take you to where he needs to be. obviously, you get a few stares. some pointing, some whispering. they’re all things that come with being pressed into tom holland in front of thousands of people.

tom brings you over to the check in area and gives both of your names. a woman with a headset on hands him two ID cards. he thanks her before pulling you aside so you two can have a moment of privacy.

“how is it so far? feeling okay?” his voice is soft unlike the yelling around you, which is nice. tom slips the lanyard with the ID over your head. “i’m getting used to it. i don’t know how you do this almost every day,” you admit, tugging on his own lanyard that he’s holding. he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“i’ll tell you what, it’s a lot easier when you’re with me,” he mumbles into your ear, using that as a way to subtly leave a kiss to the skin. the little things like that are what will keep you together throughout the day.

a man with a headset and planner comes up to tom. why are so many people wearing headsets? he reads off tom’s plans for today, then ushers the two of you over to do meet and greets once tom has everything down. tom already called and explained that you’d be joining him, so he had it arranged for you to sit with the photographer and watch.

that’s definitely going to get people curious. he doesn’t mind too much, as long as it makes the experience more comfortable for you.

“i’ll be right over here. you’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” tom gazes out at the long line of fans waiting to see him, meeting your eyes after. “don’t worry about me. go give your fans some hugs.” you squeeze his hand and smile to let him know you’re okay. he smiles back even bigger before going over to greet the first person they send over.

this set up is way better than what you’d expected. you get a front row seat watching tom do silly faces and poses, and he can check in with you from time to time. there’s the occasional “who is that?” or “is it true that you’re dating her?” question from someone nosy.

tom responds with something along the lines of “that’s y/n. she’s a really lovely girl. she’s super awesome,” followed by a wink only for you to see. you find yourself having to hide your blushing face from all of his antics.

after about two hours, tom gets a break from photo ops. he decides to use the time to do whatever you choose, since you’ve been watching him for a while. you just walk around until there’s an announcement that a hypnotist show is about to start, and anyone can attend. you’ve never seen people be hypnotized in person, and it sounds like it could be fun.

tom lets you pick the seats. you end up towards the front for a closer look. his hand rests on your thigh as soon as you’re both seated, missing being able to touch you all day. you lace your fingers with his and watch as the show starts.

you’re both having a good time, laughing along at all the different segments. the guy hosting it is really entertaining. “now, let’s move onto a part of the show i like to call ‘truth serum.’ it’s simple. i’ll choose a member from the audience and get them to spill their guts for all of you, about anything i ask. who shall it be?” he rubs his chin and looks around the room.

he makes eye contact with people around you. you’re regretting getting seats in the third row. you pray he won’t call you up, but that would be too convenient. “ah!” he claps his hands together, gesturing to you. your mouth runs dry. “thanks for volunteering, come on up!”

you look at tom, silently asking if you should. “go on. i kind of wanna see this,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you devilishly. clenching your jaw, you walk past him and onto the stage. the hypnotist taps a chair for you to sit. you just had to be the lucky person he chose. “can we get a round of applause for...” he holds his microphone down to you.

“y/n,” you say into it, your voice coming out shaky. there are at least two hundred people staring up at you right now. “y/n!” he repeats. “everyone put your hands together for this brave soul.” the audience claps, tom cheering the loudest among them all.

“so, y/n. you seem excited to be up here,” the man jokes. tom watches with amusement as you give an unsure smile at the audience. “is it that obvious?” you get a few laughs. maybe this won’t be the train wreck you’re anticipating.

“extremely. y/n, i want you to look at your right hand for me.” he takes a step back, you doing as he says. “focus on your fingers and how they’re curling towards you. keep focusing. notice how you’re feeling more and more relaxed.”

everything he’s saying is actually happening. wanting to remember this, tom takes out his phone and starts recording. “bring your hand over to your forehead. let yourself feel the skin to skin contact. just like that.” you’re starting to feel sleepier. “and close your eyes.” the hypnotist snaps, and there’s silence throughout the auditorium. “you’re in a deep sleep. well done.”

you’re completely passed out with your head hanging low. everyone claps again, gasping and chatting to each other. tom is one of the gaspers. “y/n, you just guzzled a whole can of truth serum. you’re an open book. you love to share. when i snap again, you’ll wake up and answer whatever i ask you. truthfully,” the hypnotist tells you.

he waits a moment, then snaps his fingers. your head immediately snaps up. more gasps. tom puts his hand over his mouth, muffling his laughter at whatever you’re about to say.

“good morning, y/n. how are you doing?” “stiff. my neck hurts a lot for some reason,” you answer honestly, rubbing the back of it. the hypnotist has a smug grin on his face. “very good. we’re going to start off with some basic questions to see where you’re at. they mirror the five senses. y/n, what’s your favorite thing to hear?”

“my boyfriend’s voice. oh my god, and he has the cutest hiccup laugh,” you clasp your hands under your chin. tom is glad his phone is hiding his face so no one can see his cheeks turning pink. “hiccup laugh?” the hypnotist makes a face. “it gets stuck in his throat sometimes. it’s actually so cute.”

“what about your favorite smell?” “oh, that’s an easy one. sandalwood.” you casually reveal to the audience. “tell us why you like sandalwood so much, y/n,” the hypnotist prompts you. “it’s the scent of shampoo my boyfriend uses.” tom practically melts when he catches on. all your favorite things so far are related to him.

“i think we should skip ahead and talk about that boyfriend of yours. you seem to really love him, huh?” “more than anything. if you were planning to ask about anything else that’s my favorite, i’d say him.” there’s a big “awwww” from the whole audience, tom included.

“isn’t that sweet? where is your boyfriend right now, y/n? i’m sure he’d want to hear this.” “he just did, he’s in the audience.” you tell the hypnotist as if he should already know. tom’s lovestruck smile fades away. he hopes the hypnotist realizes it’s too personal to make you keep talking about something like this.

you have no control over what you’re saying, and it’s not going to end well. “why don’t you point him out for us so we can give him a big round of applause?” scanning around for tom with bright eyes, you get out of your seat. you point at him. “he’s right there.”

the whole audience turns to look at who you’re pointing to. tom lowers his phone, his mouth open in shock. everyone starts shouting as soon as they notice it’s tom. you’re confused over what the big deal is, since you’re still not fully yourself. the hypnotist realizes the mess he just caused, quickly sitting you down again to bring you out of it.

“y/n, i’m going to snap again. when you wake up this time, all the truth serum will be out of your system,” he says just to you over the noise, tom sinking down in his seat to avoid questions. the man snaps his fingers. there’s silence like the first time, everyone waiting to see what you’ll say.

you have no memory of anything that happened a few seconds ago. all the eyes on you are freaking you out. “wh- what did i say?” you ask him, biting down hard on your lip. his eyes dart over to tom. he speaks to you without the microphone. “you told the audience about your boyfriend.” it takes a second for you to register what he said. then you see tom down low in his chair, and you’re humiliated.

for yourself, but mostly him. you can’t believe you exposed your relationship in front of all these people. you run off the stage and out of the auditoruim, too embarrassed to say anything else. tom doesn’t hesitate to chase after you.

you’re breathing hard and fast, stopping somewhere there aren’t too many people around. your mind is racing while you try to figure out what’s going to happen next. someone puts a hand on your shoulder. it’s tom. he turns you around to face him.

“fuck, i- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what was going through my head, i shouldn’t have talked about any of that stuff. this is gonna be a nightmare for you,” you spit out all at once. tom only pulls you to his chest. he rubs circles around your back, trying to calm you down.

“it’s not your fault, angel. you didn’t have a choice about saying those things. you know that, right?” huffing, you hide your face in tom’s chest. “but still. i exposed us and i exposed you and now everyone knows something you didn’t want them to. you should hate me right now.” his lips press into a deep frown at what you’re saying. he rests his chin on your head and sighs.

“baby, i’m not mad. the only reason i wanted us to be a secret was for you.” you look up at him hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “so i didn’t destroy your whole career in two seconds?” “of course not. there have been way worse things i’ve had to deal with than publicly dating my really lovely, super awesome girlfriend. this won’t be easy, but i promise we’ll get through it together.”

you cheer up a bit hearing him repeat his words from earlier, nodding as you let yourself process everything.

“do you think anyone got me on video? or will they just post about what i said and everyone will believe them?” “i personally recorded the whole thing. not sure about the rest of the audience though,” tom proudly admits to you, making you groan into his chest. “great. that means we should probably say something before the twisted versions of the story come out,” you reason.

he considers it for a moment, and you can see when a lightbulb go off in his head. “what if i officially introduce you to some fans at my next round of photo ops? tell them about us, see how it goes. then we can decide what our next move is.”

it’s a huge relief that he’s taking this slow and giving you a say on how to go public. feeling brave, you peck his lips as a thank you. he’s surprised at first, but kisses back. he can finally see why those annoying pda couples exist. his arm takes its place around your shoulders again, yours going around his waist this time.

“let’s go share our not so secret relationship with the world.”

[cardentist]

this isn’t a proper discourse post, I Agree with a lot of what the op said but there’s specific things about it that get under my skin in a way that makes me want to talk about it, but I don’t want to engage with that post both because I don’t want to speak over the point that’s being made and frankly because I don’t want to be misinterpreted because of the point that’s being made in it.

so for context, I’ll just say that it was a long post about how a lack of engagement with women characters in fandom spaces is tied to misogyny. just be aware that I’m responding to something specific and not criticisms of this in general. (feel free to dm me if you want to see the post for yourself)

the rest of this is going to be rambly and a bit unfocused, so I want to get this out the door right at the top: it is not actually someone’s moral obligation to engage with or create fan content. all other points aside, what this amounts to is labeling people as bigoted for either not creating or engaging with content that you want to see, and while the individual may or may not be a bigot it’s not actually anyone’s job to tailor their fandom experience to cater to you. 

fandom is not activism. it’s not Wrong to point out that a lack of content about women in fandom is likely indicative of the influence of our misogynistic society. and suggesting that people examine their internalized biases isn’t just fine, it’s something that everyone should be doing all the time. but saying that it is literally someone’s “responsibility” to “make an effort” by consuming content about women or they’re bigoted is presenting the consumption of fan content as a moral litmus test that you pass and fail not by how you engage with content but by not engaging with all of the Correct content. 

judging people’s morality based on what characters they read meta for or look at fanart for is, a mistake. it Can Be Indicative of internalized biases but it is not, in and of itself, a moral failing that has to be corrected.

if you want more content to be created about women in fandom then you do it by spreading content about women in fandom, not by guilting people into engaging with it by saying that they’re bigots if they don’t. you encourage creation Through creation.

okay, now to address what Mainly set me off to inspire this post.

this post specifically went out of it’s way to present misogyny as the only answer for why this problem exists in fandom spaces. and while I absolutely agree that it’s a Factor, they left absolutely no room for nuance which included debunking “common excuses.” which, as you can probably guess, contained the things that ticked me off.

first off, you can’t judge that someone is disconnected from women in general based on their fandom consumption because the sum total of their being is not available on tumblr. 

people don’t always bear their souls in fandom spaces. just because they don’t actively post about a character or Characters doesn’t mean that they see them as lesser or that they don’t think about them. the idea that you can tell what a person’s moral beliefs are not based on what they’ve said or done but based on whether they engage with specific characters in a specific way in a specific space can Only work on the assumption that they engage with that space in a way that expresses the entirety of who they are or even their engagement with that specific media.

what I engage with on ao3 is different from what I engage with on tumblr, youtube, twitter, my friend’s dms, and my own head. people are going to engage with social media and fandom spaces specifically differently for different reasons. you can’t assume what the other parts of their lives look like based on this alone. 

second off, there can be other factors at play that influence people’s specific engagement with a fandom.

they specifically brought up the magnus archives as an example of a show with well written women. which while absolutely true, does Not mean that misogyny is the only option for why people wouldn’t engage with content about them as often. for me personally? a lot of fan content is soured because of how it presents jon. I relate to him very heavily as a neurodivergent and traumatized person, and he faces a Lot of victim blaming and dehumanization in the writing. sasha and martin are more or less the only main characters that Aren’t guilty of this, and sasha was out of the picture after season 1.

while this affects my enjoyment of fan content for these characters To Some Extent on it’s own (I love georgie, I love her a lot, but I can’t forget that she looked at someone and told them that they were better off dead because they couldn’t “choose” to not be abused), the bigger issue is fan content that Specifically doesn’t address the victim blaming and ableism as what it is, even presenting it as just Correct. 

this isn’t exclusive to the women in the show by any means, this is exactly why I avoid a lot of content about tim, but it affects a lot of the women who are main characters. that isn’t the Only reason, there’s more casual ableism and things that tear him down for other reasons (the prevalent theory that elias passed up on sasha because he’s afraid of how she’s More Competent In Jon In Every Single way. which comes with the unfortunate implications of jon being responsible for his own trauma because he just wasn’t competent enough to avoid it) but that’s the main one that squicks me out.

of course not all fan content does this, and I Do engage with content about these characters, but sometimes it’s easier to just stick with content that centers on my comfort character because it’s more likely to look at his character with the nuance required to see that it is victim blaming and ableism. 

it’s not enough to say that the characters are well rounded or well written and conclude that if someone isn’t consuming or creating content about them then it has to be due to misogyny and nothing else.

there’s also just like, the Obvious answer. two most prominent characters are two men that are in a canonical gay relationship, which draws in queer men/masc people on it’s own but the centering of their othering and trauma Particularly draws in traumatized queer people that are starved for content. georgie and melanie are both fleshed out characters in and of themselves, but their relationship with each other doesn’t have nearly as much direct screen time. and daisy and basira have a lot more screen time together and about each other, but their relationship is very intentionally non-canon because of its role as a commentary on cop pack mentality.

people are More Likely to create content for the more prominent relationship in the show and be drawn into the fandom through that relationship in the first place. I have no doubt that there Are misogynistic fans of the show, but focusing on the relationship and the characters that make you happy isn’t and indication that you’re one of them.

which brings us to the big one, the one that sparked me into writing this in the first place (and the last that I have time for if I’m being honest). the “common excuses” section in general is, extremely dismissive obviously but there’s only one section that genuinely upsets me. 

without copying and pasting what they said directly, it essentially boils down to this: while they recognize that gay and trans men are “allowed” to relate to men, they’re still Men which makes them misogynistic. Rather than acknowledge Why gay and trans men would engage with fan-content specifically that caters to them they present it as a given that it’s 100% due to misogyny anyways. they present queer men engaging with content about themselves as them treating women like they’re “unworthy of attention,” calling it a “patriarchal tendency” that they have to unlearn.

being gay and trans does not mean that you’re immune to misogyny, being a woman doesn’t even mean that you’re immune to misogyny, but that’s engaging in bad faith in a way that really puts a bad taste in my mouth. 

queer men aren’t just like, Special Men that have Extra Bonus Reasons to be relate to boys, they’re people who are more likely to Need fandom spaces to explore facets of themselves. and while you can Relate to any character, it feels good to be able to explore those aspect with characters that resemble you or how you see yourself.

when I first started actively seeking out fandom spaces in middle school I engaged with content about queer men more or less exclusively. at this point I had no concept of what trans people were, and wouldn’t begin openly considering that I might be a trans person until high school. I knew that I’d be happier as a gay man before I knew I could be a gay man, and that’s affected my relationship with fandom forever. 

I engage with most things pretty casually, reblogging meta and joke posts when I see them, but what I go out of my way to engage with is largely an expression of my gender identity and sexuality. I project myself onto a comfort character and then I Consume content for them because that was how I was able to express myself before I knew that I needed to. it’s not that girl characters aren’t “worthy” of me relating to them, it’s that I specifically go to certain fandom spaces to express and work through my gender and sexuality. that’s what I use those fandom spaces For.

I imagine that I’ll need this crutch less when I’m allowed to transition and if I ever find a relationship situation that works out for me. but also like, why should I? it’s not actually hurting anyone for me to explore my gender and sexuality through fanfic until the end of time. nor does it hurt anyone for me to focus on my comfort characters. 

fandom is personal comfort and entertainment, not a moral obligation. people absolutely should engage with women in media and real life with more nuance and energy than they do, but fandom spaces are not the place to police or judge that. 

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 84

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I watched my hand tremor.

It could have been caused by so many things. The meds, Mother's influence on me, or something else entirely.

My hand still shook.

I clenched it into a fist. I wanted to draw my weapon but there was nothing to slay. I was sick. And what was the best I could hope for in terms of recovery? Nothing in the longest term. Maybe even nothing on the shortest term view, either.

Ruby and Weiss were all I had to keep me going. And they did after I ran into my sisters. That had been hard. It had been difficult to see them. It had jarred me more than a little to see Lavender, Violet, and Saphron. I could only imagine what seeing the others would do to me. And I was doomed to run into them eventually.

I could feel them on the surface of my mind. Crawling around on the surface of my skin.

"Launch is in two months," Ironwood debriefed. "And I have more to share with you. However…" he leveled a look at me. He wasn't sure if he could share it with me. Everyone else, sure. But me, the possible traitor, it was harder to tell.

"We can trust him, James. He brought the relic to us after all," Oscar tapped his cane against the ground in an Ozpin like fashion. "And he killed Tyrian. Who knows what damage he could have caused in the city if Cloud hadn't stopped him."

"Very well. It concerns the winter maiden. She passed. Winter Schnee is now the winter maiden."

"Is she well…?" Weiss trailed off. Concerned for her sister. I watched Ruby give her hand a comforting squeeze from my position closest to the door.

"She's recuperating," Ironwood informed her. "The process of transferring the power is not entirely easy on a person. Fria is gone, however."

The winter maiden is dead. Long live the winter maiden.

"Should be easier to hide this way. The bunker was a bit conspicuous," I muttered, arms crossed by the elevator. "I was able to find out what was in it. There's no reason Cinder wouldn't have been able to learn about it too."

"I should hope that trade military secrets are harder to come by than that and that you are the exception rather than the rule," Ironwood returned.

"Then be disappointed and surprised. Cinder was able to find the fall and spring maidens. Then she killed them. She's dangerous and resourceful," I shot back. "Why wouldn't she be able to find winter?"

"We'll be doing everything we can to keep Winter safe while she learns how to use her powers. In the meantime we will be relying on you and Ace Ops to hold off Cinder when she comes. Or to take her down," Ironwood calmly stated.

"She's in town according to my criminal contacts." Qrow gave me a look at that.

"You built up a network? Earned some favors?" He asked.

"Pretty much."

"How good is it?"

"It's decent but it's got holes in it. My sisters were able to dodge detection and attack us. Three of them. The same three that attacked you all in Argus."

Qrow nodded but he eyed me warily enough. Which was fair I suppose. I deserved to be watched. I needed to be watched. Who knows what might come roaring through the cracks in my psyche. At least Qrow was watching me. He was onto me. That was good news. I trusted him to do his duty when it came to me where some people like Ruby or Weiss might falter. He'd kill me if he had to. Or try to, at least. I wasn't sure where we would come up these days in a fight.

I might still have an edge on him. But he still had decades more experience than I did. I had more combat time relative to my time alive than anybody else on the planet except maybe Penny and I was pretty sure I had her beat in that department.

"What about Robyn winning the election?" Yang asked. "Are you going to tell her about the tower?"

"She knows," I said. "She found out from the same source I did. I was there."

"I need to jam these leaks…" Ironwood muttered. "Though that explains why she's been leaving the supply trucks alone and hasn't brought up changing their course anymore. How long did she find out ago?"

"Maybe a week before my voluntary incarceration. So like three or four weeks ago."

"I've got a meeting with her about keeping my council seat. I could use every edge I could get. Do you know anything else, Mr. Strife?"

"Not really. She's got a lie detection semblance."

Yang let out a low whistle. "That's handy."

"The range is short but it works. I saw it in action."

"I already knew that. Do you have anything else for me?" Ironwood asked.

"One of the members of the Happy Huntresses has the ability to make an invisibility field. That's about it for me, though."

Ironwood blinked. "I didn't know about that."

"I can do some more digging around. All my contacts owe me a big helping of favors."

"Do it," Ironwood ordered. "I want to know all of the Happy Huntresses' semblances."

"I can go with," Qrow grunted.

"If you insist," I returned. "I'll probably mostly just be making calls on my scroll. Not even sure if I'm headed into town but if I am I'll shoot you a message."

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I made my calls once the meeting was adjourned down in my room. I'd just come back and meet with Ironwood before the meeting he had with Robyn Hill.

"Bisque here."

"Hey Bisque. It's Cloud. I need to know about the Happy Huntresses' semblances."

"Calling in some of your favors, I see."

"Don't even start. You owe me a blank check after I pulled your asses out of that fire."

"Well you already know about May's semblance. The invisibility field. But Fiona Thyme's got this wicked matter absorption semblance. It's touch based but she can just snatch up a whole plane if she needs to. Figuratively putting it in her pocket."

"Is that all of them?" I asked.

"Not quite. They have another member. Joanna Greenleaf. Her semblance is more combat oriented. It's super strength."

I typed a note of all that in my scroll so I wouldn't forget it.

"I'll give you a call if I need anything else."

"You're all business, Cloud. You could stand to relax," Bisque voice came through the little speaker a touch teasing.

"I relax all the time. Just not with you. Nothing personal."

"Who do you relax with?" He wondered. He sounded actually curious. Too bad. I wasn't about to tell him it was my two girlfriends.

"None of your business. Is that all you can give me on the Happy Huntresses?" I asked. Ironwood would want to know more if I could get it.

"Pretty much. Maybe there are a few details I'm forgetting but that's about it," he answered. "That's the important stuff. Their semblances. They all use crossbows. Including Hill herself. The others use these staves."

"Tell me about the weapons."

"They're crossbow staves. I don't know." I could imagine him shrugging. He really was clueless. He needed to be taking in these kinds of details. It could save his life against hunters.

"What kind of bolts do they fire?" I pressed him further. "Are they magnetic accelerated rounds? Do they use dust bolts?"

"They're not magnetic or anything like that but the bolts can probably be modified with dust, yeah." He said. "A lot of weapons are like that. Easy to modify with dust. My new gun is like that too."

"How big are the bolts?" I demanded.

"Coin sized. Maybe, one tenth piece. Then they're a few inches long. Four or five. Hill's weapon has these blades on it too. It's like some kind of fan or accordian. It's got blades to either side of it. But it's a crossbow as well," he answered.

"Thanks. Keep an eye out for the people on my list and contact me as soon as you hear anything. It's important," I returned. "People could die."

"I'll let you know if I run into anything on them. Taurus hasn't been by again. He must be laying low. Not everyone has an illusionist like you do. Some of us lowly people have to play hide and seek with the law."

"Boo hoo," I deadpanned. "I feel so sorry for your terrorist asses. Just let me know about the list. These people are bad news on a good day. They don't care about faunus rights. They actively want good people to die."

"Alright, alright. We'll keep an ear to the ground. See you around, Cloud," he began to wrap up the conversation.

"Laters," I hung up on him.

I shot Ironwood a message. He fired one back almost instantly with his implant. He didn't have a scroll. He had a thing in his head. The orders were to kick back until he got some free time. He was a busy guy, after all. I practically just left one meeting with him. I just hoped it wouldn't be too late before his meeting with the leader of the Happy Huntresses. My information could give him an edge.

"Hey kid. We headed into town?" Qrow asked me.

"Doesn't look like it. I got what I needed. Just off the one phone call."

"We haven't had the chance to talk," Qrow said.

"Sorry. I guess we both were busy. Don't tell me you missed me."

"Don't give me that snark. I'm not sure I like you around my nieces. Knowing what we know now. You turned on us. Even if it wasn't on purpose. I'm not sure I like the idea of you and Ruby alone."

"Ruby keeps me sane," I defended. "I need that in my life. I'd lose it without her. I'm pretty sure she likes being alone around me, too."

"Kids don't always know what's good for them. That's when an adult like me has got to step in."

"I can't help but notice you're talking to me alone about this rather than with her. What? Do you know she wouldn't take it well?"

"Come on kid. You can't tell me you think you're good for her. Do the right thing."

"What the fuck is the right thing?" I wondered. As though this asshole knew what the fuck the right thing was.

"Staying away from the people you could hurt. I did it cuz' of my semblance when I was younger. Hell, I did it my whole life. It was the right thing to do," he lectured gruffly.

"So I should leave again? That would break her heart," I argued back.

"In the short term. But she would be alive. Or doesn't that matter to you?" He asked rhetorically.

"It means the world to me," I countered. And it did.

"Then do the right thing. Stay away from her. Even though it hurts you. Even though it might drive you mad. I've been there. It sucks but it's what things like you and I have to do." He didn't call us people. We didn't deserve to be called such.

"I can't. I just got her back."

"Damn it, boy! It's what you should do! She'd move on eventually. Even if you never do," he was shouting at me in my room now.

"Uncle Qrow?" There was a small but firm voice from behind him. It was Ruby. Her eyes were fierce. "Leave him alone."

Qrow sighed. He shook his head but he left. He knew he couldn't beat her. It was what she wanted.

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"Cloud?"

"Ruby," I answered.

"Do you think you'll have kids?" She asked. She laid on my chest in my Atlas Academy bunk. She was so small. She fit comfortably on top of me and I traced small circles on her back with my fingers as we lay together.

"Probably not. I hate my father for consigning me to this." I waved my free hand down at my body. "It would be immoral for me to have children. To do the same thing to somebody else. It would be selfish," I responded.

"What if Salem was gone?" She pressed on. Her palm flat against my chest. I needed her to understand but I didn't want to break her big ol' Ruby heart.

"Well… maybe. That's a big if, though. I've never really thought about it. Where's this coming from?"

"I've always wanted a big family," she returned. "And I want you."

"Gotcha…" I was quiet for a long time but it seemed like she was content to wait for me to speak again, her big silver eyes looking up at me. Something large in them… so I thought about it. Mostly aloud but I gave it some thought. "I don't know what to tell you, Ruby. What if I'm just passing along the worst parts of my life? The mind control? I can't do that to somebody. I wouldn't wish that on my enemies. Let alone my own children."

"What if you're not? It would be a new life. It would be something wonderful." She put her chin on my chest and looked up at me while I held her in my arms. I paused in tracing shapes on her.

"Another big if. At least to me," I confirmed.

"Do you want kids, though. Do you want them? You've just been bringing up reasons you shouldn't have them."

"I really don't know. I hate my own parents. Like I really hate them for doing this to me." I gestured at my body like it meant something. "It's hard to imagine my own children not hating me. I don't want that, couldn't live with myself that way."

"We might never know unless we try."

"Could you do that to someone that you love? Could you do that to your children? Experiment with their life like that?"

"It was always going to be an experiment. That's what having children is."

"That's fucked," I said. "A baby would have no defense against Salem. We'd be raising Saphron or any of my sisters again."

"What if you already destroyed her body so much that she wasn't capable of that. What if you got the ideal scenario."

"We don't even know if that will work…“

"So, ‘no.’ You don't want kids."

"I don't want to shut you down. Not if it's something you always wanted. You could always find somebody else. Especially after I'm dead."

She hit my chest with her tiny fist. "I don't want somebody else. I need you."

"I don't know what to tell you. I might not be long for this world. I want you to be ready for that."

"I don't want to lose you. I can't imagine my whole life without you. Like that last month. It sucked. It hurt so much. I can't imagine that for years and years."

"Ruby… I will die from this," I leveled it against her. The raw truth.

"Stop saying that," she protested.

"Ruby…" I trailed.

"I don't want you to go," she dropped a nail in my coffin with that. It felt like she took years off my life by saying that line.

"I've got to go." I returned gently. "You'll still have Weiss," I reminded her softly. I kissed at her but her lips didn't move against my own. I drew back after a moment. The kiss was sad and passionless. I planted another on her forehead soft and reassuring as I could make it.

"I need you both. I told you that," she fired back.

I squeezed her close to me. She let out a little groan as I did, it was practically a squeak.

"I don't want to die either. I'd rather stay here with you," I sighed. "But this is the burden of my life. The curse of my birth. One of them at least."

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like that. Sometimes it seems like you want to die."

"Sometimes I do. Maybe a little. Can you blame me?"

I realized Ruby was crying. Soft silvery tears falling from her eyes like mercury. I brushed them away as best as I could. It left my thumb and her cheeks wet.

"Rubes…"

"I don't want you to go. I'll find a way to save you."

"I hate to see your heart breaking over this. Over me."

"You're worth it. You know that, don't you? You're worth getting upset over losing," she pleaded with me.

I was human garbage. Why couldn't she see that? I was trash and I was meant to be thrown away. That's what I was supposed to do and be. It's what would happen, too.

"Stop. It." She snarled up at me. She hit me again. Fairly hard. It was like she could read my thoughts. She surprised me. I looked down at her in shock. Her fury surprised me. It was raw and full of power. I could taste it on her aura where before there had been sadness and melancholy there was a touch of rage now.

"Rubes…"

"You're worth it. I won't abandon you. I'll not leave you, my loved one."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[handlewcaare]

When one read the comic books, being a teenage hero was a helluva lot easier than it was.

Spiderman didn’t have to watch his grades gradually plummet with each “emergency” meeting the Avengers set up for him. Nor did he have to turn in half finished homework because he forgot to do it when he ran off to handle a Behemoth of a beast. It was smooth sails for the likes of some friendly neighborhood vigilante.

Badd wished it was that simple.

He couldn’t complain it was all that rough. Kids at school knew of his devestating strength, so much so that a few would text him about a monster nearby. At times, he’d handle a monster in exchange for a free tutoring session for a class he was struggling in. It was a fair exchange, a life for a decent test grade.

Some people at school would greet him, but he was hardly popular. If anything, he was just as good as company as a cardboard cut out. Someone to briefly pause what he was doing to stoically pose for a photo-op. Though, some people just assumed he wasn’t as friendly as the stature he put on.

“Badd, right?”

His brow arched, momentarily breaking the signature snarl he naturally adorned (it wasn’t a scowl, it was just his face). The voice came from a girl who’s face was speckled with a constellation of freckles. He knew of her, that she was a new transfer student from H-City, but he never got to know who she really was.

“Ya know anyone else that looks like me?”

“Yeah,” the girl remarked, “hate to say it but a pompadour isn’t exactly a unique feat of yours.” Despite his frown, she went on to resume, “I was gonna ask if you had a spare hair tie.”

Out of all the things she could have asked him to do, she asked for a meager hair tie. She might as well have asked a practical mountain of a man to do her makeup. What an odd thing to ask, “how the hell do ya know I even have one??”

What should have been a snide remark about how he always had a spare hair tie for his little sister was accented with a shrug, “The girls in my track team say you do. I don’t mind using my shoelaces though—!”

“Ya can do that??” He implored as he surrendered the hair tie that was nestled within his pants pocket, “wouldn’t it be flying out of yer hair or somethin’ ?”

“You just have to know how to tie it,” after she briefly gave her thanks, she secured her dark hair within a high-ponytail. After a beat, she made a full presentation of the bun atop of her crown. “Ta-da! How does it look?”

“Like a pineapple.”

What insult would have made girls scoff or bark out a bigger insult at him only prompted a wrinkle from the girl’s nose as she laughed. Her grin radiant, almost contagious for a guy renowned for his intimidating glare. It didn’t take the girl long to skip back to her team—‘thanks Badd!’ She would chirp over her shoulder—and he offered a small wave of goodbye to her.

To say it had been the last time they spoke would have been a blatant lie. The girl, who’s name was revealed to be Hikari, would be variant in her greetings. Some days would just be utter small talk: ‘how are you?’ ‘Fine, you?’ ‘Could be better,’ and other days would be exclusively full of excitement. Most notably were they the days that she had just finished her track season or after practice:

“—what I’m saying is that Ayame started acting funny when she dropped the baton,” Hikari said as the two of them sat along the edge of the rooftop during lunch. Her brows furrowed as she plucked a piece of grilled salmon out of her bento box and set it over for Badd to eat.

“Ya still won though, right?”

“Yeah, but it was like something startled her? I can’t say what exactly, but she got a little frazzled after the tournament,” she hummed as she pursed her lips, “maybe ‘m overthinking it.”

“Ya gotta bad habit of that,” he quipped as he took a bite of the surrendered salmon, “she prolly jumped cus she dropped it.”

As it turned out, that wasn’t wholly the case.

The more he talked to Hikari throughout the months in school, the more exposure he got from Ayame. How she often would ask for one of her friends to come with her to the bathroom or how she would stay longer than an hour or two after practice. He wasn’t a psychologist, but Hikari’s concern became more understandable.

Once he was invited to eat lunch with Hikari and her track team, that was when he met Ayame.

As always, Hikari was rather jovial with introductions. Her excitability practically lightened the mood, even when some girls felt a little unnerved to be around a guy who could easily crush a monster’s skull with an indestructible weapon. Those girls he left very well alone for their comfort. The others were met with his gruff nature, he wasn’t sure whether Hikari told them he had a soft spot or not, but Ayame was the one who stood out the most.

The girl was kind and soft-spoken. She loved talking about her cat named Sakusa and she couldn’t help but find pictures of Tama to be an absolute delight. Though, Badd couldn’t lie, Sakusa was just as adorable.

The thing was she couldn’t afford to look him in the eye, nor could she barely manage a tone beyond a small murmur. When Badd would growl out a ‘huh??’ over a mean jest, she would flinch instinctively. Such a response evoked a small ‘sorry’ from the bat-wielding hero.

Lunch became rather awkward between them after that. Fortune came in Hikari’s emotional intelligence, otherwise Badd would have tried to make some means of dramatic compensation. He picked up a giant bouquet of roses for Zenko’s concert when he missed her piano recital once.

It wasn’t until school was no longer in session that he caught a glimpse of Ayame retreat to an older man. Her arms folded across her chest, though the heightened bark of the man made her flinch once more.

The man could have blended in well with the white collar types: nicely trimmed suit, slick back hair and an expensive pair of gloves that would have made Amai Mask green with envy. Their insignia was rather reminiscent to a bamboo lily.

He didn’t just have money, he had money to buy himself out of consequences.

By now, the grip around his signature bat became rigid in a white-knuckled grasp. His storm merely accented with a twirl of his instrument to rest atop of his broad shoulder.

“—and I told you to do the dishes!” The older man exasperatingly barked, “the hell were you doing??”

“I just...” Ayame paused as she shuffled closer to the masonry, “I h-had practice okay? It’s not a big deal—“

“It is a big deal!” His voice was now a tornado that swam tension within the air. His face was beet red and his fists practically quivered from the intensity of his own storm, “I had my fuckin’ brother over and—!”

Without a hint of hesitance, Badd rammed the hilt of his bat directly into the man’s diaphragm. The sheer velocity of his strength evoked a shriek from Ayame and a wheeze from the stranger. Had he known he shattered a rib or two, he probably would have offered a menacing simper.

“Do Yer own damn dishes next time,” when the man attempted to scramble to his full height, Badd hadn’t hesitated to step in front of Ayame. It wasn’t everyday he handled an abusive shithead, but they were marginally easier to handle than a stray papermache volcano come to life.

As the man scowled, his glare dripped over to Ayame, “this isn’t over—!” Once the threat had seeped, Badd simply let his metallic instrument slam into the concrete. A cobweb of weight bloomed under the strain.

“You bet Yer ass it is,”

This was a monster, no doubt, but he had heard from Daichi that some monsters liked to isolate their victims. Norte dam syndrome or something like that. As soon as the man retreated, Ayame began to present signs and symptoms of that.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me,” her voice was distant compared to the staggering man who retreated with a very polite warning. “He was just being an ass, okay? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know what bein’ an ass is,” Badd scoffed, “and that wasn’t it.”

Being an ass meant Hikari poking fun of Badd crying in the middle of Zenko’s piano performance or Badd poking fun of Hikari not knowing how to do algebra, but being able to chemistry. Neither of them would have dared to clench their fist at the other, let alone make the other flinch in response.

Ayame only shook her head, “no, he just... he didn’t mean it.”

“ ‘s that what he tells ya?”

“Of course not, I—“ she sighed, her small shoulders slumped when she practically hung her head, “look, I know you’re supposed to be a hero, but he’s just a guy. You must have bigger priorities, right?”

Bigger priorities meaning bigger monsters; nothing like the abusive asshole nextdoor. Badd couldn’t help but wonder if that was really what being a hero meant to these people, that they were just as fictional as their comic book alternatives.

Whether the answer was blatant or not, it didn’t matter, “I don’t want ya gettin’ hurt, so call Hikari and stay with her, alright?”

“W-What are you gonna do??”

Badd simply unbuttoned his uniform jacket and let it draped over his shoulders.“ ‘m gonna go be a hero.”

It was a slow day at the notorious deadman detective agency. The gentle hum of the fan being the only company the detective had, among the various files of cold cases he tried to decipher in his day off. He didn’t mind the breaks, rather he milked them as often as he could, but they could be rather tedious at times.

Fortunately, his answer came in the form of his phone vibrating against the table. The caller ID consisted of a simple “Badd”. Chances were that the kid needed someone to pick up his sister or ask about homework he didn’t understand.

“Well, good afternoon to you too,” Daichi hummed leisurely.

“Ay, real quick!” If Badd hadn’t been huffing so much, he wouldn’t have assumed the intensity of the situation required a running start, “ya know anyone who’s got a flower on their gloves?”

There was a pregnant pause when Daichi tucked the phone along his shoulder. What sprawled evidence files had been tucked into their respective cabinet drawers, yet there wasn’t anything that could have resembled a nondescript flower. Aside from the insignia a murderer had carved into the wood of his victim’s furniture.

“What kind of flower was it?”

“Iunno??” Badd grunted, seemingly vaulting himself over a fence from how the chains rattled under his weight, “like a Lily or somethin’ ??”

Had his blood not been lethargic like tar, it would have ran glacial through his veins. He never quite noticed how reminiscent it was to a lilac flower, only that it was scrawled and messy. Though, it would have been a bold assumption to make Badd would keep him alive, “You’re planning on going after him, aren’t you?”

“Yep!”

He figured.

Hastily did Daichi retrieve his beige coat and slid his arms through the sleeves, “don’t do anything like kill him. I’ve been looking into cases like—!”

“Ah, I gotta go. I think I see him!”

“Badd, wait-! Wait, did you hear—?!” When the line was cut off to evoke a triad of monotonous beeps, Zombieman hissed a curse under his breath when he rushed to grab his keys and head to C-City. He didn’t even bother to shelf his evidence back when he bolted out the door.

Kids, he swore...

[littlemisssquiggles]

What do you think of the Nuts and Dolts pairing? They’ve also got some focus this volume so far and also when Ruby rested her head on Penny’s shoulder at the end of vol 7.

Hey there Sweet o/

“…They’ve also got some focus this volume so far and also when Ruby rested her head on Penny’s shoulder at the end of vol 7…”

Well...technically both Ruby and Weiss were there to comfort Penny on the airship after she chose to join their side. Ruby rested her head on Penny's shoulder yes but at the same time; Weiss also took Penny's arm as her way showing support for her (especially given what transpired between Penny and Winter Schnee).  

Let's not forget the full context of the small scene which wasn't so much focused on just Nuts and Dolts alone but more so on the Ice Flower pair showing Penny that they have her back as she was now a full-fledged member of their team too; now more than ever since she left Ironwood's side to join them.

In respect to my feelings and opinions on the Nuts and Dolts pair, I mainly like Ruby and Penny as a friendship. I don’t ship them romantically if that’s what you were referring to, fam. While I wasn’t that big of a fan of the show resurrecting the same old Penny who died back at Beacon since I felt like that undermined all the grief and growth that Ruby went through as a result of her death, still it’s nice that the show has been delivering good on rekindling the strong friendship and sense of platonic love and trust that Penny and Ruby share with one another for V8 since that’s something that was missing for me from them last season.

In V7, despite Penny being back as ole herself, I was surprised on how much little screen time she and Ruby shared together---at least any that led into any meaningful discussions where the two shared a deep discussion on how they both have grown and changed since the Beacon Days.

Nope, instead what we got was “just like Beacon again”, almost as if the events of V3 involving Ruby failing to arrive in time to save her Atlesian friend from death didn’t happen at all. This bugged me but, what is a squiggle meister to do, right?

Even after Penny was framed for the attack at the Robyn Hill Victory Party, we received no focal moment or scene of Ruby comforting Penny afterwards or even being there for her to help her through such an emotional period for her. The closest we got in the canon was Ruby and Weiss at Pietro’s lab in the aftermath of the party where the Ice Flower duo learnt from Papa Polendina of how Penny was first created.

While it was nice to see Ruby (and Weiss surprisingly) trying to be there for Penny, this still didn’t change the fact that there were no moments of Ruby comforting Penny in any meaningful way for their bond.

However V8 definitely flipped the script with that because now we got three episodes full of Ruby being there for Pen-Pen which is nice. However, as pointed out by another anon-ninja, the impression that some folks are getting is that Ruby is being rather dismissive of Penny’s feelings in respect to everything that’s happening to her right now. I didn’t really see it that way but I digress, 

Penny was originally designed to be a hero---to be a sworn protector for not just Mantle but all of Atlas. In V7, we saw that reputation be tarnished by her framing and even now, as she had been given a newer purpose as the Winter Maiden, one can clearly see that Penny is struggling emotionally---torn between her duty and willingness to act upon what she feels is best to help everyone and others telling her that it would best that she hid or remain low. And the fact that all of her former allies in the Military---General Ironwood and even the Ace Ops---keep guilt-tripping her for the fall of Mantle and protecting Atlas isn’t helping.

Bottom-line, while I dislike the fact that everyone (at least on General Ironwood’s side) seems to be taking the piss at poor Penny (for something that isn’t even her fault by the way), nevertheless, I do appreciate it for what it’s doing for Penny’s development as a character. My only concern in the clear foreshadow of Penny ultimately betraying everyone---not just the Atlesian military but even her friends with the hero team. Ruby especially. I feel as if there will come a point in the PLOT where Penny will do exactly what she told the heroes she would do in the first episode.

Penny will surrender the Relic of Creation to Salem to beg for Atlas’ salvation under the naïve pretence that this will be what’s best for all only to be proven wrong. 

As wholesome and adorable as it was to see part of the hug budget for V8 be dedicated to the Nuts and Dolts friendship, let’s be real, Sweet.

Given how the CRWBY Writers often like to work, y’know they wouldn’t put something so blatant as Penny and Ruby bonding in the audience’s face especially for more than one episode unless it was there to service the PLOT. So if we as the viewer audience are getting all this wholesome Nuts and Dolts moments, you can definitely bet that this is the showrunners’ not-so subtle way of buttering us up for the inevitable heartache that will probably come for Ruby and Penny later in the season.

As I said over on Twitter, they gotta feed us all dem cutesy power of love and friendship bits before they inevitably stab us through the chest when Penny turns evil and unwillingly returns to Ironwood’s side, courtesy of Watts and for when Penny makes her own choice to betray everyone to Salem by surrendering the Staff of Creation to her in pardon for Atlas, like she teased she would do in V8CH1.

It is so clear that Penny is going to end up hurting Ruby a second time in the end---probably even more so that the first time she died.

Ruby will lose Penny again. There is no doubt about it this time. 

Whether that means Penny will live to see another day as a newly reprogrammed pawn for Salem (of her own choice or not) or…die tragically before Ruby’s eyes yet again as a result of her own naivety and her failure to protect her friend---that I’m unsure. Only time will tell. 

But the least I can say is that V8 is going really good so far in respect to the developments of certain characters who didn’t receive much before (such as Oscar, Nora and Penny so far). Hopefully this is kept up going forward.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[lynnkn]

Get It In Writing

Here’s my Pynch Secret Santa for @betterwithoutsense. One of the prompts was non-magic au. Hope you enjoy!

@pynchpromptweek

Read it on ao3!

Ronan was always an outdoorsy type. His mind moved faster when the world around him moved slower. He liked New York, but it was never meant to be his home.

He had come up with the idea to move back home, drunk out of his mind on a Tuesday, after weeks of trying and failing to churn out so much as a short story, let alone a novel. He hadn’t had an original idea since he was fifteen. It made perfect sense if he didn’t think about it too much. At fifteen, he’d created some of his most original ideas, he crafted plots so intricate they made his adult self weep with jealousy. Characters had come to him like dreams. Nothing he’d written since Declan swept him and Matthew off to Alexandria had come close to the stuff he’d scribbled in frayed notebooks between lessons.

If he did let himself think about it, he’d wonder if it had less to do with the change in locale and more to do with his parents’ deaths.

He’d called Blue the next morning. She offered him the couch at her mother’s house while he looked for a place. He calls her again just as the plane lands.

“Don’t hate me,” are the first words out of her mouth.

“Oh, I love when you start conversations like that.”

“I’m stuck at work.” There’s a shuffling and a crash from the other end of the line, followed by voices. At least three of them are yelling out for Blue. “We’re understaffed. Three people quit last week and I’m the only manager left.”

He makes plans to call an Uber as soon as they land. He hates to do it, but he’s left without much of a choice. He’d avoided taxis and the like for most of his time in the city, but every time he did it, it felt wrong. His skin prickled and pulled like even it knew he did not belong in the backseat of someone else’s car.

“But I sent my cousin to pick you up at baggage claim,” Blue says.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll see you at the house?”

“Yes, definitely! I’ll see you tonight.”

“And thanks for all this.”

“No problem, Ronan.” She huffs a breathy sigh and the phone crackles as she leans in closer to whisper. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too shithead.”

Ronan had met plenty of Blue’s cousins. While the girls come in all shapes, sizes, and colors, they have names like Orla or Chrysanthemum. They wear mismatched clothing and make art out of recycled materials. They’re all indiscriminately weird. He feels confident in his ability to pick a Sargent out of a line-up.

The baggage claim is a confusing swirl of business suits and combat uniforms. He walks past a family carrying a giant banner. But he recognizes none of them. There are no floor-length skirts, no dyed hair. He pulls out his phone to call Blue back when a voice calls out his name. He turns, but he can’t make out who it is. Then he sees him.

He’s leaning against a half-wall, hands tucked into his pockets and a denim jacket tossed over his shoulder. He pushes off with his foot and approaches cautiously. He’s waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” Ronan coughs out. He’s proud of his own tact and grace for the briefest flash before he opens his mouth again. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Blue said she’d call you.” He shuffles for a moment, grabbing desperately at his phone. “I’m Adam. I’m gonna take you back to the house if that’s cool.”

“It’s fine, man. You’re just not who I expected.”

“Well,” he says, starting a sentence he clearly never plans to finish. “You got bags?”

“Yeah. Wait here. I’ll get them.”

Adam takes the large suitcase and reaches for the duffel, but Ronan shakes his head. Adam shrugs and leads the way to the car. Ronan pulls the bag onto his shoulder and flinches as the bag bangs angrily against his stiff muscles. He moves through the pain, desperately hoping Adam can’t tell he’s struggling.

“So how are you related to Blue again?” he asks, desperate for a distraction.

“Uh, I’m Persephone’s kid.”

He remembers Persephone, long white hair, and a soft-spoken voice. She baked pies and could speak with some level of authority on any topic a person brought up. But she hadn’t had any children that he knew of. And he’s sure he’d remember Adam.

“Oh. Sure.”

“It’s an adoption thing,” he says like he’s not outrageously uncomfortable.

“That’s cool,” Ronan says like he wasn’t wondering. He doesn’t want to push so he lets the conversation float away. He’s a big fan of comfortable silence. The issue is that nothing about this situation is comfortable and he’s drowning in his own goddamn bullshit. He follows Adam to a monstrosity of parts but resists the urge to comment. This clearly isn’t the kind of car a person chooses for themselves. They exchange nervous smiles over the trunk and settle into their seats.

Adam clearly knows where he’s going so Ronan settles back in his seat, watching D.C.fade away. When the world turns green, he lets himself feel at home.

“Blue talks about you a lot,” Adam says.

And that’s the funny thing because he’s talked to Blue a lot in the years since he left, but she’s never mentioned Adam. He searches his memory for any mention or comment on the addition of a new cousin, but there’s nothing. He’d told her about every gruesome, gory detail of his move to Alexandria, of school, and Declan, and Matthew. And then when he’d moved to New York, he’d told her about his building and the shitty people he talked to and he’d laid all this on the line without considering that she was still in Henrietta and her family was changing and he didn’t even know. Why hadn’t she told him? He only lets it sting for a moment. Then he numbs it with a promise to talk to her later.

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s my best friend.”

They don’t talk much more on the drive, but Ronan watches Adam out of the corner of his eye. He’s the kind of guy a teenaged version of himself would’ve fantasized over. His hands grip the wheel and his tongue sticks out the side of his mouth as he focuses on the road. His eyebrows hang heavily over weary eyes. He’s a strange guy, a unique blend of old and young, of new and refurbished. He’s a lot like the car he drives and Ronan wonders if this body is also the kind no one chooses for themselves. But he can't stop staring nonetheless.

The house looks like itself when they pull up and a strange warmth pools through his gut. He breaths in the air as he steps out of the car. It’s lighter here. The air hits the bottom of his lungs and he pulls another breath in just to hold it there. To breathe. If he forgets, he can pretend he’s fourteen and coming over to borrow a cd. Or that he’s ten and coming to watch a movie his parents wouldn’t let him watch. Or that he’s seven and going over to play at a friend’s house for the first time in his life. He could stand out there all day, but he wants to see Maura so he hauls the stupidly heavy duffel over his shoulder and goes inside.

“Ronan? Is that you? Get your ass in here.” Maura’s voice blends with the hum of the laundry machine and children screaming somewhere down the hall and it’s a sound so wrapped in nostalgia, Ronan can’t remember what year it is. He follows the sound to the kitchen where she waits with open arms. He leans down to let her pull him into a hug. Behind him, the screen door slams as Adam comes in behind him, but he doesn’t pull away. “How’ve you been?” she asks, finally pushing him back to take in the sight of him.

“I’m alright.”

“You’re staying with us for a while?”

“Is that a problem?”

“You know it’s not.” She turns back to the counter in front of her. She has a sheet of pepperoni rolls half wrapped and lined up on a strip of parchment paper. She grabs the dough and goes back to work as Ronan leans against the counter, watching her fingers delicately shaping the rolls. “We’re a lot nicer to the boys than we used to be, right Adam?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says brushing past both of them on his way out the back.

“Oh I’m convinced,” Ronan says.

Adam stops and quirks a quiet smile, the kind Ronan wasn’t supposed to see. He turns back to them. “I promised Calla I’d fix the porch rail.”

“It can wait if you want some lunch," Maura says.

“I’d rather finish it up before class.” He looks like an animal caught in a trap, leaning towards the back door and letting his eyes wander out the window. “But I’ll take a pepperoni roll when I’m finished if you’re offering.”

She nods at him and this seems to be a dismissal because he’s out the door before Ronan can blink. As soon as he’s gone, though, Ronan is thinking about him again. About how strange he is and how much stranger he seems in a house like this. He shouldn’t fit in and yet, everything about him makes sense.

Ronan washes his hands and picks up a strip of dough, following Maura’s gentle instructions. She reaches over and fixes each roll he makes, but he doesn’t mind. He lets her fix his mistakes with no more than an overdramatic eye roll. And she doesn’t comment on his lack of manners. Maura never expected him to be polite, so long as he was kind.

Blue doesn’t make it home for another two hours. By that time, Ronan is full of pepperoni rolls and Adam has gone to class. He waits for her on the porch and she runs and jumps into his arms the moment she sees him. He picks her up, sweeping her feet out from under her. He’d hit a growth spurt a month after leaving town and hadn’t stopped until he was ducking in doorways.

She startles, but he’s strong and he’d chop his own arms off before he hurt her.

Blue and Ronan had been the weird kids of their homeschool co-op. She yelled about the patriarchy during history and he knew more about Irish folklore than algebra. She hissed at the other kids and he hit anyone who made fun of her.

“I knew you’d come home eventually,” she says.

“Then you must be psychic cause I didn’t know until last month.” He hugs her and she still smells like the tree in the backyard and pixie sticks. All is right with the world. She doesn’t look all that different either. She grew maybe another inch or two, but all-in-all, she’s still what he remembers. He wonders if she’s disappointed cause he sure as hell isn’t the Ronan she knew.

The passenger side door shuts and a man climbs out. His hair is neatly combed and his shirt is ironed. He sweeps a hand over his tie and waves at the two of them.

Blue waves back. She glances over her shoulder at Ronan, hesitant and curious. She waits for a reaction, but Ronan has nothing to say. He watches, slack-jawed and stupid as the man approaches. He kisses Blue on the cheek and offers Ronan his hand.

“You must be Ronan,” he says. They shake hands, a sweaty affair that Ronan pulls away from as soon as he gets the chance. “I’m Gansey.”

“Can you give us a minute?” Blue says. He grins back at her and then at Ronan, slipping into the house, leaving silence in his wake.

“Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“Well John Boy, things have changed here on Walton’s mountain.” She laughs at her own joke, watching for Ronan to join her. When he doesn’t she sighs. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were miserable, Ronan,” she says. “And don’t say you weren’t I could tell. I just didn’t want to rub it in your face.”

“You still should’ve told me.” It burns, like every other little hurt. These days, Ronan can’t seem to feel anything a normal amount. Every prick is a white-hot scorch. Every ache is a broken bone. One day the floor fell beneath him and the pain gets worse every time he hits another level of concrete and earth.

Blue nods and she turns, just enough to the side so Ronan can’t parse out her face. He can’t read her anymore. And so he falls again.

“And what about Adam?” he asks.

“What about him?”

Ronan’s not even sure himself. But he shows up in the same shitty town he’s always lived in and he comes back to a place that had once been his second home and this guy is here, just waiting and he’s everything Ronan thought he’d wanted back then. His perspective is tilting. He thinks about the guys back in New York: Proko, Skov, Swan, and Jiang. He thinks of Kavinsky and how much sense they made. He thinks Adam seems like the kind of guy who’s going to get him hurt. He thinks of how much he’d love to let someone like Adam hurt him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“I didn’t know how to,” she says. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Then why send him to pick me up?” Ronan leans into her, watching for a flicker of something recognizable. The Blue he’d known never lied to him. She was honest, sometimes brutally so and she never hid anything from him. They’d talked constantly over the years. And while he’d unloaded all of his bullshit on her, she’s remained mysterious in regards to her own life.

“I think you’ll like him,” she says. “He needs someone like you.”

“I’m not trying to fuck your cousin, Blue.”

“I’m not suggesting you fuck him. I just thought you could be friends.” She rubs her hand over her eyes, pulling her features in a sharp downturn. “I was gonna say the same about Gansey.”

He lets the breath out of his cheeks and watches the wind blow through the grass. It's grown long, just the way Blue likes it. He lets the wind move him like the grass, swaying gently until he feels grounded. He’s not mad at Blue. Not really. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I just want to make sure you have a support system here.”

“I do,” he says.

“Besides me and my mom.” She wipes at her eye again and Ronan graciously ignores the single tear.

He gestures to the door and the family waiting inside. “Well then let’s go.”

Blue smiles and Ronan remembers why he’s here in the first place. Blue is something stronger, more prominent than anything in New York. She makes him stronger, louder. It’s not just about Henrietta or the mountains. It’s in Blue’s smiles and Maura’s eyes and the strangeness of them all. This is where his story is waiting for him. It’s always been here. Ronan is the one who left.

Soon they’re all sat around the table for dinner. The conversation is light and easy. No one pushes Ronan to talk about what he’s been doing in New York and he’s eternally grateful for that. They talk about Blue’s job at Nino’s and Gansey’s parents’ real estate business. He promises to help Ronan check out some of the properties in the area. Adam excuses himself early, claiming he has to get up early for work in the morning.

“What do you do?” Ronan asks, helping Maura clear the table.

“I work at the Greenmantles’ farm up in Singer Falls,” he says. And Ronan feels his heart drop all the way to his ass. “It’s this really old shitty family farm that this guy bought a few years ago. And he has no idea how to run a farm so it’s a disaster.”

“Oh,’ Ronan says. “That’s my house.”

Adam’s eyes widen to twice their regular size. “I…”

“It was always kind of shitty,” he says.

“Yeah.” Adam stands awkwardly behind his chair, perhaps waiting for an appropriate time to bolt. Ronan breaks eye contact, hoping to put him at ease.

But the idea of his home, fallen into disrepair bothers him more than he expected. He remembers the Greenmantles. He doesn’t remember them fondly. He turns to go outside for another breath of fresh air. As he heads for the door, Ronan hears the exchange between Adam and his mother.

“You couldn’t have told me he lived there before I opened my mouth?”

“I could’ve,” she says, placing a palm on the top of his head. She plants a kiss on it and walks to the sink to wash out her mug. Adam, for what it’s worth, smacks his head against the doorframe.

He spends the next night, sitting on the blanket with Blue and Adam and their friends. Gansey’s there, as is his friend Henry. Noah, one of Blue’s coworkers turns up with beer. And they sit in the grass watching the stars. It’s not until they’ve been laying there for a couple of hours, laughing and teasing like they’ve always been this way, that Ronan realizes how much he needs this.

As the others trickle inside for air conditioning or food or sleep, Ronan and Adam are left alone for the first time since the car ride.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me very much,” Adam says.

“It’s not that,” Ronan says, hands folded behind his head. The stars are duller here in Henrietta proper, but it’s the closest to home he’s gotten in years. “I just realized Blue hasn’t been telling me shit. I didn’t know about you. It’s not personal.”

“That’s probably my fault. I told her not to tell people.” He bunches a corner of the blanket in a tight fist, before releasing it and smoothing it back out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“I just…” He stops, just long enough that Ronan doesn’t think he ever plans to finish the sentence. Then he groans like he’s forcing the truth from someplace buried within him. “Things weren’t good at home so when Persephone offered…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Still,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good.”

The beer is warm and settling in Ronan’s stomach in that way that makes him a little worried sometimes, so he sets it aside. He closes his eyes and reminds himself why he stops. Because it would be so easy to keep going. But he actually likes talking to Adam, and he thinks he might even want to remember this conversation in the morning.

“Blue said you’re a writer?” he asks.

This is a tightrope. Ronan calls himself a writer. His father had called him a writer. Even Declan, for all his infuriating nagging, calls Ronan a writer. But he has nothing to show for it. Nothing’s proud of. People use to ask him this and he’d pull out notebooks full of stories. Sometimes he’d just recite stories from memory like Niall once had. But now, he has nothing to show for the title. He’d trusted the story was here, buried in the hills of Henrietta, sleeping, waiting.

“I guess I am,” he says.

“What do you write?”

“Fantasy.” It’s one of the oldest truths he has to give.

“Only fantasy?” Adam asks. “Never anything else?”

Ronan shakes his head. He’d never had much use for anything else. He’d grown up with his father's stories, grandiose and ridiculous. He’d never conformed to the rules of the mortal world and Rona’s narrative imagination took the hint and ran with it. He silently begs Adam not to ask about his work anymore. Hopes to God he won’t ask to read anything. And he doesn’t. Instead, he tips his head up toward the sky, eyes tracing patterns of stars overhead.

“Tell me something about you,” Ronan says when the silence lingers too long.

“Like what?” He doesn’t move, chin tipped up the heavens and Ronan studies the curve of his jaw.

“Anything true,” he says.

“I’m deaf in my right ear.”

“Really?”

“No,” he says. He’s got a gentle smirk that charms Ronan more than he’s willing to admit. “It’s my left.”

“Can you hear me okay now?”

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s quiet.”

The summer passes in hazy waves, washing over him every few weeks as he watches time slip away. He’s done nothing. He’s written nothing. But he tours properties with Gansey and makes art with Blue. He buys a skateboard and lets Noah teach him a few tricks and he let Henry take him to Henrietta’s newest and only gay bar. It’s not the best summer of his life, but it comes pretty damn close.

And then there’s Adam who listens better than anyone he knows. They sit together, nearly every day, either on the porch or in the kitchen. Sometimes they drive miles away from the house in Adam's car, away from Henrietta and they park and they talk.

He tells Adam about the farm and Adam tells him about the trailer. He talks about Declan’s nagging texts about college and Adam talks about using the money from the Greenmantles to pay for classes and textbooks at the local community college.

In September, Adam’s car falls to shit in the driveway and several hours under the hood aren’t enough to fix it so Ronan drives him to work in Maura's car, promising to bring it back immediately so no one got stranded at the house.

He follows the gravel driveway, following the curves and dips just as he had once upon a time. He doesn’t watch Adam, but he can feel himself being watched. “This is where I’m gonna live,” he says, pulling in behind a car too shiny and new to fit in with its surroundings. “I don’t want to buy another place.”

“You mean this is it?” He looks over his shoulder out the window and Ronan watches the line of his shoulder crease. If he could, he’d trace a finger over, push in where the skin dips beneath bone. He turns back before Ronan can pull his gaze away. “This is your perfect house?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“No. I guess I just assumed this place would be…”

“Traumatic?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” Adam's gaze floats back to the open field. Ronan can't tell if the expression is jealousy or pity. Maybe it's both. “You don’t see my buying my childhood home.”

“I loved that house. I loved the farm. I could get cattle.”

“You’re gonna buy cows?”

“No, but I could if I had this place.”

“You could always ask if they’d be willing to sell?”

“You work for the guy. Do you think he’d sell it to me?”

He doesn’t answer, just watches the house, eyes full of hope or envy or something dangerous like that. When he turns back, the light of the sunset hits his face and everything seems right. Ronan can picture them sitting on the porch, sipping tea or bourbon on the front porch. He wants this. He wants him. He wants, wants, wants so much it hurts. He reaches, but the whole world lays on a shelf above him, just out of reach.

His mother used to hide cookies on the top shelf, saving them for after dinner. When he closes his eyes, Ronan can see his father’s arm stretched upward pulling the cookie jar down to Ronan. “Just one,” he’d whisper and they’d never speak of it again. Until the next time.

Adam leans forward, pressing warm lips into his and it’s that hand reaching out to him, pulling things down to him that once seemed so impossible he could cry.

He nearly does when Adam pulls away, slowly with a single breath. It was a period, not a comma. It was a thought, not an answer. They let themselves freeze, both leaning over the center console to breathe against one another’s collarbones. This was impossible.

“Do you wanna come look around?” Adam asks.

“Isn’t that a little risky?”

“Mr. And Mrs. Greenmantle aren’t home,” he says. He leans over to unlock Ronan’s seatbelt and the feel of Adam’s arm brushing against his stomach could convince him of almost anything.

“Okay,” he says.

Adam takes him by the hand and leads him around the house, past the empty cow pastures and the shiny new silo. He introduces him to Mr. Gray and the other farmhands and they regale Ronan with stories about Adam at work that make his cheeks flush bright pink.

They climb up the hill and past the old storage shed, just the two of them.

“That thing’s still around?”

“Yeah. It’s old as shit. I can tell.” Adam kicks up some gravel and a small cloud forms around his ankles. “A lot of the old equipment up there’s never been used. Greenmantle just leaves it lying around and sends me up there twice a week to look for something.”

“Yeah. That roof leaks every spring.”

“I know. I keep bugging him to have someone look at it.” He shrugs, the noncommittal gesture of someone who is used to being ignored. Ronan takes care to grip his shoulder with a weighted strength. And he looks at this guy, so fucking beautiful and so capable, and wonders how anyone could see him in any other light.

“Show me the house,” he says, wrapping his other arm around Adam’s waist.

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“Then we’ll have to be fast,” Ronan says. “Lucky for you, fast is my specialty.”

“Stop,” he says. He pushes away, without a second glance and bolts for the barn as soon as he’s out of Ronan’s grip.

“Hey,” Ronan calls after him. He watches as Adam turns, pulling anxiously at his bangs as they flop into his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just miss this place.”

He thinks of the smell of cinnamon in the kitchen and the dent Declan’s head made in the hardwood and the green slime stain on the carpet in Matthew’s room. He wants it back even for a moment. He wants it more than anything. Anything except Adam.

But Adam pulls another breath into his lungs and says. “Okay, but we have to be quick.”

He takes Ronan’s hand in his, leading him toward the house, pulling at his finger and the heat trapped between their palms travels all the way up Ronan’s arm. He lets himself be dragged until they reach the porch. He pulls a key from the sconce and opens the front door. The same one Ronan remembered. He could picture his mother, standing in the foyer if he focused.

The craziness of it all strikes him as he stands there. He thought he’d never see this place again, but he’s standing there and he’s so close to what he wants and yet so far. So he pulls Adam in for another kiss, this one messier, hungrier. He buries his hands in the hair on the back of Adam’s neck.

“What are you doing here?”

Ronan turns back to the open door and there is Greenmantle in all his smarmy glory. Ronan previously thought his teenage memories had exaggerated, but he was clearly right all along. This guy simply looks like a bastard.

“Sir,” Adam says. It’s a plea, a desperate Hail Mary from someone Ronan once thought was too proud for such things.

“Get out,” he says. He holds his hand out and Adam slowly drops the keys. He doesn’t look at Greenmantle or Ronan. He watches his feet. Ronan can’t help but watch him. “And don’t come back. You’re done.”

They don’t talk on the way back to the car. There is nothing to say. Adam slams the door as he sits. He makes a sound, so low, so guttural, Ronan would’ve thought it came from one of the animals.

“You took it too far. I lost my job, Ronan!”

“I know that.” He puts his keys in the ignition and lets the engine roar to life under them. He feels better, but Adam clearly doesn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“If I don’t have a job, I can’t keep paying for school.”

“Listen, I know. I’ll help you. It’s not like I’m gonna let your freeze out there.”

“Oh yeah, cause your dream comes before everything else, huh? What about my dream?” He takes a harsh breath and hunches over the dash, refusing to meet Ronan’s eyes. It’s possible there are tears, but Ronan feels too guilty to look more closely.

“What fucking dream, Parrish? Your big dream is to spend the rest of your life slaving away so some dipshit in suit and tie gets to summer in Guam. That’s not a dream. That’s a nightmare.”

“It’s better than this.” He drops his head to his knees, burying his face. He has nothing to worry about. Ronan couldn’t look at his face if wanted to. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Then let help you find something better.”

“This is why you don’t know anything about Blue. You’re too caught up in your own bullshit to realize the rest of us have stuff going on too.”

He drives Adam back to the house without another word. He doesn’t go inside. He doesn’t want to see anyone else. He wants to drive. He takes the backroads too fast and the curves too sharp. He lets the road lead him to the convenience store just up the road. At least he saves the whiskey until he gets back to the house.

When he wakes in the morning, he doesn’t remember much after he got back. But he’s on the porch, back aching and head throbbing instead of tucked away on the couch, so he’s willing to bet it didn’t go well. Maura is sipping tea at the kitchen table. “Wanna tell me what you were doing out there? With my car?”

He shakes his head. He tests his voice, but it’s rough and gravely. He clears it into his fist before trying again. “Is Adam here?”

“He went to talk to Greenmantle.” She sips her tea again, placing it beside her. She looks up, trying to look him in the eyes, but Ronan stares at the table, the floor, anything but her face. She gives up, crossing the room to fill a glass with water from the sink “Blue and the boys went with him,” she says, handing it to him. "they said they were going to get his job back."

He sips at it cautiously. It lands in his stomach with a splash, so he stops, letting it settle before sipping again. “I need to go see him.”

“Is that a good idea?”

He drains the rest of the glass in one gulp and sets the glass back on the table. “I don’t know,” he says. With a clearer head and a couple of Ibuprofen, he hops in his car and prays for one more miracle.

Mr. Gray is there when the BMW crawls up the drive. He directs Ronan to the old shed, before reminding him to not get caught.

Adam’s got the door to the shed propped open so he sees Ronan coming from a mile away. “Go,” he says once they’re close enough to talk without yelling.

“Parrish, I just wanted to apologize.”

“Don’t pull a muscle.”

“I’m trying to act like a grown-up here. Would you come talk to me?”

“Talking to you got me stuck up here cataloging inventory in the first place. I had to beg for my job back.” He drops an ax beside him with a resounding crack that catches them both off guard. They stare at each other for a moment, caught up in their confusion before Adam turns back to his work. Ronan can’t look away. “Just leave me alone. We can talk tonight.”

The crack returns followed by a crash and Adam’s head dips beneath the stacked crates without time to so much as scream.

“Parrish!”

He rushes forward, forgetting to consider the already fragile flooring. It bends and moans in front of him. He pulls back, leaning over the boxes to get a view of the hole, slowly spreading as bits of wood flake off. “Parrish?” he yells begging his friend or God for an answer.

Both God and Adam seem to have other plans as Greenmantle rounds the corner. “What the hell was that sound? What are you doing here?”

“Parrish, can you hear me?” He waits for an answer. A beat. Nothing. He’s not a patient guy, but he waits for a second longer, prays for so much as a grunt or groan, but nothing. “He fell through.”

“What do you mean he feel through?”

“I’m not a fucking contractor. He fell through the fucking floor. What else do you need to know?”

Mr. Gray is there in an instant. He stays back graciously and doesn’t seem interested outside the basics. “Is he responding?”

“No,” Ronan says. He thanks God that someone else is taking over the situation because he's beginning to feel horribly unqualified. “I think he’s unconscious.”

“Do you have your phone on you?”

“No. I left it in my car.”

Mr. Gray turns to Greenmantle wordlessly. The two exchange looks that seem to cycle through an entire exasperated conversation before Greenmantle spits out “I don’t have service out here.”

“Ronan?” Blue yells, rushing forward. Henry, Noah, and Gansey follow her. He holds out a hand to keep them back. He watches the hole, waiting for it to spread, and feels it bobble beneath him. He’s not safe either and he knows it, but if someone else comes inside, they’re definitely fucked. He looks at her though and the unshed tears in her eyes undo him.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he can say anything. He’s trapped leaning over a hole and Parrish is trapped and the whole world is pulling in toward him and he doesn’t have the strength to fight it off. Still, he says “I’m okay. But if I move the rest of this place is gonna cave in on him.”

Gansey runs up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He tucks her into his chest and they both stare back, discomfort clear in their eyes. They flash him matching encouraging smiles through the fear.

“I’m gonna call 911,” Henry yells, sprinting back across the field from where he came. No one stops to thank him.

“Is this really necessary?” Greenmantle asks.

“It may be a while before anyone makes it out here,” Mr. Gray says. “Ronan, if we can get you out, they’ll be able to get to Adam quicker. Can you sit down where you are?”

Ronan pushes a box of small garden tools off to the side, clearing enough of a path for him to sit down. He lowers himself gently, holding his breath the whole way down. He doesn’t release until his ass hits the floor.

“Good,” Mr. Gray says. He leans forward, peering over the mess to meet his eyes. Ronan sees his own fear and panic reflected in the man’s eyes. “Now roll onto your stomach, okay? You’re gonna crawl.”

He pushed himself over, turning as slow as he could. The floor groaned again beneath him. “This isn’t working. This is all gonna end up on top of him.”

“No. It’s not. You’re going to crawl toward me. You ever play army guy when you were a kid? It’s just like that. Keep your stomach on the ground and crawl.”

Ronan crawls. He can't see the other from the ground, but he can hear them talking around him.

“We can’t get to Adam until we’ve got him safe," Mr. Gray says. His voice is calm, but in the overly-controlled way that indicates a person is not actually calm at all. “If we tear down that back wall, we may be able to dig through to him.”

“We might just end up staking more debris on top of him,” Greenmantle says.

“I don’t know how else to access him.”

“There’s a crawlspace,” Ronan says. He pulls himself past an old ladder, taking care to avoid rusty nails and a suspicious stain. He thinks about his last tetanus shot and decides a booster couldn't hurt.

“What?” Greenmantle leans down to stare at Ronan through a gap. Ronan ignores his furrowed brow and exasperated tone.

“There’s a crawlspace underneath.” He pulls himself another inch and Gansey is there offering a hand. He takes it graciously and Gansey pulls him the last few inches off the foundation and through the doorway. Mr. Gray leans over and tugs on his other hand pulling him up. He’s still coughing from the dust and panic as he throws himself around the corner of the building to the small wooden door.

The deadbolt gives way with little fuss despite the copious amounts of rust around it. “Adam?” he yells into the entrance, but there’s still no response.

“I’m little,” Blue says. “I can fit more easily.”

“You’re not dressed for it. There’s ticks and shit down there.” He hurriedly tucks his jeans into his boots and slides through the door before anyone can stop him.

He can see the damage as soon as his eyes adjust to the dark. And then he’s army crawling again. He pulls himself forward, pushing past bugs and dirt and what he thinks was once a raccoon. He crawls until he reaches and a chunk of wood too big to move. He has no leverage in the slim space around him. He can barely push himself up. His shoulders are squished in too tight to move anything heavy. He kicks himself for not thinking of a better plan. He crawls around the wood, blinking dust from his eyes and searching for any sign of Adam.

He peeks past the beam to see a clear space on the other side. He sees the ax to his left. He’s here. He’s somewhere in this place. He’s so close Ronan could touch him except he’s hidden and not responding. “Adam?” he yells one last time.

There’s a groan, soft and pained, but a groan nonetheless.

“Ronan? Can you hear us?” Mr. Gray yells.

“Yeah,” he calls back. “Kinda busy here.”

“You need to get out of there, Ronan.”

“Let me just get to him.”

“Ronan, now!” Gansey yells.

There’s another crack and a plank falls on top of the stack. But it stops as soon as it starts. The dust settles into his eyes and he can’t see in front of him, but he can hear the gasps and murmurs from above him. “I’m okay.”

“Ronan get out now.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Adam coughs. It’s harsh and pained, but it’s the best sound he’s heard because he can tell where it came from. He pulls the ax toward him. There isn’t room to swing, but he doesn’t want to anyway, not with Adam so close. He smashes it into the block of wood. It doesn’t split, but he’s got enough force to crack and splinter it. With a few more strikes, it breaks away just enough to wiggle. He pulls it back, throws it over his shoulder and there is Adam.

He’s pale, coated in a layer of dust and grime and his temple’s a mess of blood, but he’s the best thing Ronan’s ever seen. He collapses by his side, sweeping a hand over the blood clumping in his bangs. He weighs the danger of spinal injuries against the threat of another collapse. The voices screaming above him win out. He ends up pulling Adam behind him, trying to keep his head and neck as steady as possible.

Mr. Gray waits at the door and Ronan is more than happy to hand Adam over to him. He pulls Adam into his arms and immediately heads for the driveway where an ambulance is pulling up. Ronan falters back a step at the ominous task of pulling himself back out.

When he turns back to the opening, his friends are there. Noah and Gansey reach down, grabbing Ronan by the biceps and hauling him out with minimal assistance from himself. Henry hands him a bottle of water and a towel as soon as he touches the ground again. And Blue says nothing, simply throws herself at him, face into his chest, and hugs tighter than she ever had before. And he lets her.

And when he starts coughing, they help him sip from the water. When he coughs so hard he throws up, they pull him to his feet, dragging him toward the ambulance as well.

In the end, Ronan’s lungs are okay. He’s advised not to inhale large quantities of dust again. He tells the ER nurse where she can go. It’s all quite civil as far as Ronan’s concerned.

Persephone hugs Ronan as soon as she arrives at the hospital. She doesn’t say anything, just wraps her arms around him in a gesture he understands as a thank you. He doesn’t tell her it was no big deal, but he squeezes her back and hopes the message is clear.

Adam’s broken arm, three broken ribs, and moderate concussion are fairly underwhelming as far as structural collapse injuries go. “What did I tell you?” he says that evening when he’s staying awake for more than 30 seconds at a time. “I’m hard to kill.”

No one finds this quite as funny as Adam, but he’s awake and healthy enough to be laughing.

When Greenmantle arrives at the hospital, not twenty minutes before the end of visiting hours, Ronan is fully prepared to drag the man from the room, but Adam stops him. “Actually I’ve been wanting to talk. Please, Mr. Greenmantle. Come sit.” He takes the only seat in the room, facing across from Adam like a business meeting. Adam drops a folder on the stand over his bed. He pulls the papers out and spreads them out. “Here I have copies of my timesheets, dating back to last June with reminders from me to call a contractor about the shed. And you signed off on all these, didn’t you?” Greenmentle nods, Adam's apple bobbing anxiously. “What do you think a lawyer would think of these, Mr. Greenmantle?”

“Well, I — uh.”

“But I don’t really want to sue you.” He sweeps the page back up into a file and slips them back into the folder. “This isn’t some sort of moral high ground thing either. I should sue you. I just think we can solve this without any lawyers, don’t you?”

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”

“So what do you say, you sell my friend Ronan your farm and we can all go about our lives.”

“Well I’m sure we can talk about prices, but this particular property is quite valuable. I’ll have to get a fair price for it of course.”

Gansey steps forward, clutching his own folder. This one is red and labeled “Greenmantle can suck my Dick III.”

“Actually we have some numbers here for you, sir.” He shuffles through the papers contained and pulled one from the bottom of the pile. He folds it over and presents it to Greenmantle with a flourish, that is unusually snarky for Gansey. Ronan finds himself charmed by it.

“This is considerably less than I paid, Mr. Gansey.”

Adam clears his throat. “Yes, but let’s pretend I did take you to court. If you look here, this is an estimation of what you’d be paying based on some employer negligence data I found. So all in all, I think you’ll find that to be a very fair price given what you could end up paying.”

“I see…”

“And of course, this way your wife never has to find out about any of this. She didn’t want you spending too much on the property if my memory serves me well.” It’s bold talk from someone who slurred and mumbled his way through the alphabet just a few hours ago, but he’s bouncing back fast. “Sleep on it. Come talk to me again tomorrow.”

Greenmantle shuffles out of the room, clutching the paperwork to his chest. Ronan likes his odds.

The nurse knocks softly on the door. “Visiting hours are ending soon,” she says. “One of you can stay with him overnight if you want, but everyone else needs to head out.” Persephone scoots closer to the bed, wrapping her fingers lightly around Adam’s wrist and Ronan wouldn’t dream of trying to fight her over this.

Ronan pats Adam twice on the leg, a friendly gesture and nothing more, but fingers grip at the hem of his jacket.

“Can I talk to Ronan alone for a minute?” he asks Persephone, who nods quietly and shuffles out with the rest of the crowd. And when it’s quiet and everyone else has become a memory, Ronan pushes himself up onto the side of the bed, leaving little room for Adam to wiggle himself up into a seated position.

“Stop,” he says. “Don’t hurt yourself. Jesus, Parrish. They’re gonna kick me out for good if I knee you in the ribcage.”

“I’m real sorry, Ronan.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize just cause I saved you. I would’ve done it anyway.”

He leans back, petulant as a child. “I’m not. But I went too far and I am sorry.” He grips the blanket like that night under the stars before releasing it again. "What I said about Blue..."

“You weren’t wrong. But I'm gonna do better Parrish. I want to be better.” He watches the way Adam's brow creases and for the first time in a long time, he understands why people keep going when shit sucks. If he’d known that face, scrunched and focused as he chewed on the edge of his swollen lip, was waiting on the other side, he never would’ve considered any other option. This was what people live for, this feeling here. This is what people write poems and songs and fucking dystopian YA trilogies about. There's an entire story in the shit-eating grin. And he found it. The goddamn holy grail. “I just want to see you happy.”

“And that dream thing? You were right," he says. "It turns out I’ve been paddling upstream for nineteen years without ever knowing where the creek drops off.”

“Then you draw your own map and you figure out how to make the water do what you tell it.”

“And what are your big plans, Lynch?”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m buying a farm.”

[ohthatsviolet]

Liar, Liar - Cryptane

(1,721 words. Ao3 link will be in the RBs as usual). 

Octavio knew him as Hyeon Kim, and he was fine with that...until he wasn’t. 

He wasn't expecting to get attached. He wasn't attached. Not really. It was just a way to pass the time. Octane liked to talk a lot, and Tae Joon tended to like that in people, because it meant he didn't have to. He introduced himself as Octavio Silva, but he was positive that he "would have already known that," because he "was probably the most famous person here." The hacker did already know who he was, but not for the reasons Octavio thought. It wasn't difficult to do a little snooping on the Legends, to see who might be the best asset to him if he was forced to align himself with some of them, to keep up the facade that he was just a regular competitor like the rest of them. Octavio made it almost too easy, seeming to enjoy posting most of his life on social media. 

"You shouldn't post so many personal details about yourself online," Tae Joon had told him, only to receive an obnoxious snort in response. 

The speedster's attention was focused on the Rubik's cube in his hands, while he lay back in his beanbag chair. 

"Whatever, amigo. No one has tried to kidnap me yet." 

Conversation with Octavio seemed to always come easily. He liked to talk about himself. 

"Do you like puzzles?" he asked, listening to the quiet clicking of the plastic as the runner rotated it in his hands, failing to get the coloured squares into a desirable pattern. 

The younger legend signed somewhat dramatically, and tossed the cube over his shoulder, hitting it against the wall with a dull thud. 

"No. I fucking hate them." 

The corner of Tae Joon's lip curled into a small smile, at the remark. It seemed to happen a lot around Octavio. It was difficult to not find him amusing. 

He wasn't expecting for them to continue spending time together like this. The only reason they'd gotten talking in the first place was because Octavio was having issues with his computer and the hacker had simply gotten tired of listening to him complain about it, so he decided to help him out. The speedster's desk was a mess; covered in candy wrappers, empty energy drink cans and crumbs. It was pretty gross if he was honest, but as his eyes traveled over the small piles of trash he spotted a figurine of a character he instantly recognised from one of his childhood favourite video games. He couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch it. It wasn't possible that Octavio was a fan of this franchise. It would be far too obscure for someone like him. Right? 

"Careful, compadre," the runner warned, glancing up from his phone. "That's signed by the developers. You break that, I break you." 

Tae Joon turned the statue over in his hands, checking the underside of the base. A cocktail of childlike excitement and jealousy pooled in his stomach. He wasn't lying, it was definitely signed. Holy shit. 

"You're a fan?" the hacker asked, feigning nonchalance. 

"Yeah, dude. That's like...only the best RPG I've ever played." 

"My sister used to make fun of me for liking it," Tae Joon continued, with a small laugh. "She used to say it was only for 'mega nerds'."

"I could never keep up with all the lore," Octavio admitted, shoving his phone into his pocket, fully engaged in the conversation now. "But I heard there was a really cool story part that was only available in the co-op mode. I never got to play it myself, so I had to watch videos on it." 

"Really?! I...never knew that. Now I wish I convinced her to play it." 

The space between them fell silent, but Tae Joon noticed the way Octavio looked him up and down as if he was doing some sort of appraisal. He shouldn't have mentioned his family. That look made him feel paranoid, and that maybe he should consider leaving soon, until the runner spoke up. 

"I...probably still have my copy lying around somewhere," he began, fidgeting with a loose thread on his shorts. "If you wanna try it sometime. None of my friends liked it either." 

Despite his better judgement telling him not to, he agreed to play through the co-op campaign with him, and it ended up being more pleasant than he thought it would be. Octavio was actually pretty good at the game, and seemed to appreciate him pausing at certain points to explain the plot points he found confusing. They would meet up most nights to play, and these hangouts continued even after they'd completed the game a few times on different difficulties. It turned out Octavio had lied about his friends not liking the game, and the truth was he barely had any friends growing up; something he'd confided in him after their first few sessions. It was something Tae Joon could relate to, especially around here. He wouldn't consider any of the Legends his friends. Except Octavio of course. Were they...friends? Octavio had begun to confide in him, but due to the position he was in, he couldn't really do the same. The speedster told him short stories from his childhood and teenage years which, if Tae Joon was honest, sounded very sad and lonely. Part of him wanted to share similar stories to perhaps comfort the speedster a bit, but as soon as he opened his mouth to begin, he stopped. It was too dangerous to share too much, especially with someone who shared so much of themselves with the entire Outlands. He felt conflicted, though he knew he shouldn't. 

"Hyeon, man! Come on!" 

The call of that name snapped him from his thoughts, and he realised he was still lingering near the entrance to Octavio's room. Sometimes he still managed to forget this was his name now, or at least what some of the people around here knew him as. He didn't mind normally, but hearing that name come from Octavio's mouth made something in his chest shift uncomfortably. Tae Joon tried to shake it off, quickly finding his way to the small sofa that the runner was already making himself comfortable on. 

"Did you finally manage to pick a movie?" 

"Yup!" Octavio replied, taking the opportunity to remove his prosthetics, allowing them to collapse to the floor with a clatter. 

Tae Joon looked him up and down, observing how he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. 

"Pain?" 

The speedster seemed to think about his answer before responding. 

"Nah. It's not too bad today." 

"Good." 

"Thanks for...not telling Ajay about it," Octavio continued, turning to face him more directly. "She'd just...overreact. And it's not a big deal."

The hacker merely nodded casually in response, but as Octavio began to play the movie, he couldn't quite focus on the plot. He was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense feeling of guilt. How could he continue living like this? They'd been spending time together for a while now, and Octavio knew almost nothing about him; anything he did know was a fake or vague answer he'd given him to get him off his back. He wanted to tell him things. He wanted to tell Octavio how he grew up, his favourite food, and take him to his favourite hangout spots before his life got turned upside down. He wanted to tell him how he couldn't sleep at night, how he missed his family dearly and how he always wanted a pet cat. He wanted to tell him that the time he spent with him was the only time he'd felt the slightest bit happy or normal in years. Fuck, he just wanted to tell him his real name. But he couldn't. He couldn't risk everything he'd worked for. He couldn't risk losing whatever this relationship with Octavio was becoming. 

Why was he thinking so much about all this? He kept trying to tell himself, the moments he spent with Octavio was just a way to pass the time. He kept trying to tell himself that he didn't care about him. But he did. And it hurt. Tae Joon stared at his bedroom ceiling that night, thinking back on the evening they shared. Octavio made things feel easy, even if it was just for a few hours. Would everything become easier if he just told him the truth? He shut his eyes tightly, trying to force the intrusive thoughts from his mind. He felt like he was going crazy. How could he ever consider telling Octavio who he really was and what he was really trying to achieve by being in the games? He remembers watching the footage of the Repulsor tower collapsing and how Octane had almost been crushed to death in the chaos. It didn't matter much to him back then; one less Legend was one less person to stand in his way. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking back on it now. How could he ever have felt that way about Octane - about Octavio? He wasn't disposable, though part of the hacker was beginning to wish he was, because it would make it easier to get him out of his head. How was it becoming possible, that he cared more about being rejected by him, than he did about being exposed, if he came clean? He could be thrown in jail, framed for more crimes he didn't commit, or worse. And somehow that didn't compare to the possibility of never seeing Octavio's scarred lips smile again, or the apples his freckled cheeks when he laughed. Tae Joon hated feeling this way, he was usually so focused but now his attention was being directed elsewhere. He wanted to hate Octavio for this, but he couldn't help but smile, his stomach fluttering, when he received a text from the runner, sending him a screenshot of a movie synopsis asking him if he'd be interested in watching that one next. Tae Joon fell back against his pillow, with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes with the balls of his hands. He could keep lying if it meant they could spend time together. 

It didn't matter who he was; Tae Joon Park, Hyeon Kim or Crypto. When it came to Octavio Silva, all three of them were thoroughly, thoroughly fucked.