#people need a break and process it for fuck sake

[your-average-mess-on-all-fronts]

The fact that so many of us grew up undiagnosed autistic and socially isolated to the point where we couldn't have a normal interaction with our average classmate, were forced into learning philosophical and psychological theory just to understand what the fuck was wrong with us, kept having our interests shamed by the mainstream and our natural form of existence being seen as a turn-off for almost everyone in our fucking lives, kept being told that we were being inappropriate and unacceptable because the rules of society were stupid, had our entire life fall apart because everything was harder than it was supposed to be, developed multiple mental health issues in the process and had to cling to the insights we gained about society from the outside and to the things we were passionate about as our only forms of stability and power, only to then be told that we're "not better than everyone else for liking different things" and "should stop trying to win over male approval", just because we also happened to live through all that as girls and God Forbid we let the self-importance of an isolated dysfunctional teenage girl without social support blow out of proportion, will probably continue making me angry for as long as this doesn't stop. And maybe a bit after that too.

What I need some of you to understand is that "haha other girls wear makeup and date guys while I listen to indie rock and have no love life" is not necessarily a takedown of wearing makeup and dating guys. Sometimes it's just attempting to joke around at how terrifyingly isolating it is to be the only one who is the latter and WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO MAKE YOURSELF ANY OTHER WAY EVEN IF YOU TRIED, while everyone in your life is the former, and seem to relegate you to the category of "unsociable weirdo". Do you really think that this causes people (and by people I mean TEENAGE GIRLS for fucks sake) to believe they're genuinely better than everyone around them? Do you think people who went through this and made "other girls vs me" memes on Facebook were the ones who left the "other girls" of the world with unresolved personal trauma from highschool? That the outcasts joking about being edgy and cool because they can't get along with anyone are the ones who made gender-conforming girls with mainstream interests and a friend group and a love life feel like they are lesser? Give me. A fucking. Break.

[pullupinarari]

The Secret of Us [LH]

II. The Flame of Us

summary: a 5 chapter miniseries in which Lewis chooses you to coordinate one of his new projects, but the instant spark flicking between the two of you makes the professional lines grow a little blurry. do the both of you feel the same?

author’s note: the very much awaited chapter two is finally here! i'm not allowed to have any more horny hours after this one istg 😭 thank you girls for all the support you showed me on the first chapter of this plot that I love so much! hope you enjoy this 🩷

warnings: yall this is a big ass smut with very little plot ngl 😭 MINORS DNI!! p in v, protected AND unprotected sex cause i'm crazy, some hair pulling and a lot of filthiness. let me know if i'm missing something!

• masterlist

wc: 10 171 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

After Lewis’ invitation, you are left confused, divided between a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, your hands softly trembling as your brain tries to process his words. 

Standing in the middle of your office, with your desk working as a wall between your bodies, your eyes are connected to his, while you’re both trying to read each other. 

Lewis’ hand is tightening around the arm rest of your chair, an attempt to hold himself up so his knees won’t buckle at the suspense you’re creating, the silence diving in between your bodies being enough for his blood to rush with anxiety. 

Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me here like this. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I need an answer. 

It’s like the four walls surrounding you are getting smaller and tighter as the minutes go by, making it harder for you to breathe while you continue thinking about his offer. A dinner out, with your company’s most important client, behind your boss’ back? It seems like the perfect plan to get you fired, honestly - and you’re not in the mood to lose your job, right now. 

Your brain keeps telling you to decline his invitation, to please say no, for yours and everyone else’s sake. Don’t create a problem where everything is peaceful and nice. You like your job, your boss isn’t that bad, you have a good position at the company, and if nothing is going wrong, why would you actively try to find a fire to burn yourself in? 

On the other hand, your heart - that stubborn little organ that always likes to play hard to get, but that somehow, has softened up so much at the sight of Lewis and the little moments you’ve shared - it’s the responsible one for all the doubts clouding in your mind, for the warmth erupting through your chest every time his name pops on your phone screen. And it’s the one telling you to accept it, to have dinner with the man in front of you, to enjoy some more alone time with him out of the cage that your office currently represents when you’re together. 

Each emotion has a different weight on your shoulders, making you feel almost incapable of making a decision. You have given your all to this company, during the years that you’ve been working here - you have worked many extra hours, more than you were supposed to, even taking a series of work projects home, to finish in the middle of the night, losing all sleep so you could change projects overnight, just because the clients decided so. 

And still, having met so many different people, no one has ever made you feel the way that Lewis does. No matter how wrong this might look, it definitely doesn’t feel wrong inside of you whenever he gets close to you, whenever you hug, when he leans over your chair so you can notice his perfume. And maybe you need to put yourself first for once, instead of continuously giving your all to your work and career. Where does your love life stand in the middle of all this, in the end?

Taking a deep breath, you finally decide to break the uncomfortable silence that felt enough to drown your bodies. 

Fuck it. He’s right, it’s been time already. Give yourself a try, Y/N. - you think to yourself.

- I guess you win, Lewis. And I really do like Italian food. - a smile is attached to your words, feeling the weight of your choice already, scared of what can happen, but still confident about your decision. 

Suddenly, the world stopped for Lewis, feeling that the most subtle glimpse of happiness has spread across his entire body, lifting away all the worries and anxious thoughts that were consuming him lately.

You said yes. You accepted his invitation, he is officially going to take you on a date. The man can’t even believe the words that just left your mouth, letting the widest of smiles finally show up in his face, as he leaves his place from behind your desk, walking over to meet your figure again. 

- Are you being serious? - he whispers, almost afraid of breaking the bright bubble that you got him into, right now. His fingers are careful when reaching for your face, gently caressing your cheek, making you blush while you nod your head ‘yes’ at him.  - Yeah? - he confirms again, earning another nod from you, laced with a loving giggle escaping your lips as he keeps insisting.

- Italian it is, then. Saturday night? I’ll pick you up - Lewis tells you, his chocolate eyes melting into yours as he continuously gets lost in them, leaving him to fight the urge to taste your lips while he’s still caressing your skin.  - I guess we got ourselves a deal, Hamilton - you smile at him, defying the tone by calling him by his last name instead of the first, as you usually did. And somehow, the way you refer to him always makes his eyes darken a little more, his heart feeling hot in his chest, making him gulp, desperate to restrain himself from showing you how badly he wants you. 

Instead, he just nods at you, with a different sparkle covering his eyes now, a fulfilled smile on the man’s features - already wishing for time to pass by faster, eager to see you outside the four walls of your office. 

Inside of your minds, it feels like Saturday takes a while to arrive. Both yearning for the day to finally be here so you could go out together, getting to know the versions of the other that are forced to be kept away when you’re surrounded by a professional environment. 

The weekend finally comes, and while some shy rays of sun are trying to wake you up, the ping on your phone, indicating that you just received a new message, it’s what really pulls you out of your slumber. 

Lewis’ name pops on the screen, and there’s a tingling feeling growing in your belly already, a blush spreading on your cheeks, as if it’s the first time that he texts you. 

‘Good morning, Y/N. I know we’re out of office hours, but I had to email you some important info from the suppliers, about the new pieces we were planning on doing. Please take a look if you can. By the way, wear something fancy tonight. I can’t wait to see you - I already know you’ll look stunning.’ - the text reads, and it amazes you how this man has the ability to make your face burn, stealing a giggle from you even with just a message. 

Sighing softly, you reply back with a simple ‘got it. I’ll check the email asap’ - ignoring his compliment, not wanting to give into his ego that much already. Working on some tasks you had to get done for work, time passed by a little faster, until it’s almost time to get ready for your date with Lewis. 

It’s almost impossible not to feel nervous, and that goes to the both of you. While your heart is racing in your chest, your hands softly trembling when you zip the dress you had chosen for tonight, Lewis is still diving inside his closet. The man who is constantly seen in public events, always causing different reactions with his outfits, is now feeling the pressure to look his absolute best, just for your eyes to see - the most important ones for him.

At 8 pm sharp, your doorbell rings - just as you had agreed. Applying some perfume, you gather your jacket and purse, taking a deep breath before opening the front door of your house. 

Once you do, your eyes fall on Lewis - sharing an anxious smile with you, while slowly eyeing your figure from top to bottom, his gaze burning you already, as he needs to refrain from biting his lip at the sight in front of him. 

If he could have it his way, he would forget all about the dinner reservation that he prepared for the two of you, dying to just dive into your lips, tasting your flavour, finally allowing his hands to freely roam through your silhouette. 

But tonight is about more than just that, it’s about the opportunity to get to know more of you, the secret sides of your personality that you can’t show him during office hours, so the man forces himself to take a deep breath, regaining his senses and trying not to drool at the sight of you - something that he has been forced to do in every single meeting with you, as well. 

- Absolutely stunning, as always, Miss Y/N - the man finally speaks, reaching for your hand to kiss your knuckles like a true gentleman. 

His silliness always makes a smile appear in your features, mentally cursing yourself as you feel your cheeks growing red already. Oh boy, you already know this is going to be a long night. 

- You don’t look too bad yourself, Sir Hamilton - there you go again, playing with his mind with the damn ‘Sir’ title, that always seems to fall from your lips in the most sultry way that Lewis has ever heard.

Both of your insides are already catching fire just at the strong presence of your auras colliding, trying to meet once and for all, only to be interrupted by your will to keep your composures, not letting the little devils on your shoulders to win just yet. 

Opening his arm just a little so you can intertwine your arm with his, the man shows you a wink.

- Ready to go? The restaurant awaits for your gracious presence - both of you laugh in unison at Lewis’ words, who’s slowly feeling some of the anxiety leaving his body for good, growing confident and comfortable the more he makes you laugh with his jokes. 

You knew that the man would bring his up game tonight, but you never expected to have an entire balcony just for yourselves, allowing your eyes to admire the best view of the entire city, while having dinner at one of the most prestigious Italian restaurants in London. 

Your job allows you to live a comfortable life, to travel around the world, to eat at some of the best restaurants there are, but that’s not the most important part of life for you. And tonight, it’s like you don’t even know how to act. 

Sitting at your table, you look around, noticing every detail of your surroundings. The small, romantic candles that are strategically positioned on the table and throughout the entire space you’re staying in.

Lewis sees your eyes wandering around the balcony, admiring the place he booked for the two of you. However, he feels like he’s losing you, craving your attention already, wanting to feel your eyes on him again. So, his fingers gently travel through the table, meeting yours in a soft, deliberate movement. 

Grounding you for a second, bringing you back to reality, to the person in front of you, he finally catches your gaze, giving you a soft smile as his fingers keep touching yours, a small gesture that you are soon to reciprocate, feeling how warm his skin feels when compared to yours, how the night seems to grow quiet while you’re focused in the other’s touch. 

- Hey, you - Lewis says, his tone low and soft, almost slow, as if his brain is trying to decipher the best way to kick off this evening.  - Hey - you giggle softly, feeling shy when compared to the magnitude of the space surrounding you. - There was no need for all this, Lewis. I would’ve been just as happy to have McDonald’s inside your car, parked somewhere where we could see the sunset. - you say, truthfully, feeling slightly out of place at all the fanciness surrounding you. 

You are a simple girl, above all. And Lewis knows it. Throughout these last weeks, he learned how you don’t really care about fame, power, and fancy restaurants. He learned that you would rather have breakfast at your favorite small bakery, next to your house, instead of having a breakfast typical of five star hotels. How the scones he would bring you, would absolutely make your entire day when you were stressed, desperate to go home and find one of your books, cooking your favorite meal just to make you feel a bit more sane. 

He knows that you would be fine with a nice pasta or even just a pizza, better even if you would ask for it in takeaway, eating it with your pajamas on, while watching your favorite show in his company. And that’s one of the infinite things that he loves about you already. But tonight is a special night for the two of you, so he decided to do something different - realizing that you really deserve something as special as you are, in his eyes. 

- I know - he giggles at your idea. - Maybe we can do that on our next date, how about that? 

The tips of your fingers are still intertwining, moving to caress the other’s skin from time to time, even when the waiter puts the dishes in front of you two. It’s a comfortable, small touch, that carries all the meaning of how badly you don’t want to let go of one another. 

- Already thinking about a second date, Hamilton? You don’t even know if you’ll survive this one, yet - you joke, an eyebrow raised at him in a provocative tone, smirking at the way he loses his composure at your wittiness. 

You might be joking, but Lewis knows that you’re right. He feels himself on the verge of losing his sanity just by the way your hands are connected, he needs to force his brain to stay in this moment, and refusing to picture where this night might take you two, feeling like he could run out of air if he gets to feel more than just your hand in his. 

- You’re right, Miss. But I plan on making it out alive, I plan on both of us enjoying tonight as much as possible without killing each other in the process. And maybe we can repeat these sorts of events, no? Amongst other things… - he cracks a bit, feeling his cheeks growing a bit warmer as well, trying to disguise it with a sip on his cup of wine. 

You might repeat it, if tonight feels worth the second part to everything that’s playing in your mind so far. It’s like your fingers are tingling to get Lewis out of the jacket that’s safely covering his tattoos, his toned chest, the strong arms that you just picture wrapped around you, while his plump lips are attached to your neck - making a devilish grin appear in your face the more you pay attention to your thoughts while looking at the man in front of you.

The way you two get along so well, as if you’ve been friends for years, amazes you. How the conversation seems to flow so effortlessly, laughs, giggles and blushing cheeks erupting between your figures, making the night seem warmer, cozier, away from all the pressure that once was felt in the pit of your stomachs.

It’s like the world outside doesn’t exist. As if you don’t have to worry about your work duties, about you and Lewis being business partners, your brain not even thinking about your boss and how he would completely lose his mind if he found out that you and Lewis Hamilton are out on a date, on this Saturday night. Tonight, none of that matters to you.

As time passes by, the touches between your frames start longing for more, the tips of your digits touching, slowly become completely intertwined fingers, trying to feed yourselves off the small crumbs of warmth you can get from the other, when the table insists on distancing your bodies.

Once you two had finished your dishes, Lewis decides to get up, stretching his hand for you to take, carefully welcoming your body closer to his, finally savouring your proximity without a table in between your figures.

There’s not an ounce of shyness pooling in your body anymore, not after feeling so comfortable around the man in front of you - so, you take the first step, gluing your shape to his, until he is wrapping his arms around you, your hands gently caressing his chest through his buttoned up shirt. 

Your eyes don’t leave each other’s features, even with the most breathtaking view of London in front of you - Lewis is everything you want to look at, engraving all his details in you, in the same way he keeps focusing all his attention in you, an enamoured smile splattered all over his face, his hands softly rubbing your back, as if you are the most precious thing he has ever touched. 

- This view is gorgeous - he says, smiling even wider when the sparkle in your gaze matches his.  - It sure is - you agree, making the man lose it a bit more as he feels the intensity growing between your shadows, to the point of becoming absolutely unbearable. 

There they are: the butterflies, flying from your stomach into the air, surrounding you and Lewis, creating an invisible string that just seems to pull your bodies together more and more, as if that was possible - wishing you could melt your skin into his, at this point.

One of the man’s hands leaves your back, finding its place on your cheek, putting a strand of hair behind your ear, giving him more access to your details, carefully touching you, seeing the way you’re suppressing a smile out of embarrassment. 

Burning in desire for each other, you both reach for the other’s lips, almost at the same time, finally giving in to all the building tension on your bodies, that just continued growing for weeks on end. 

With Lewis’ hand safely cupping your face, one of your hands reaches for the man’s neck, both of you holding the other as close as humanly possible, your lips finally savouring each other - getting to taste the sweet cherry that both of you have been craving for so long, dreaming of it to the point of almost driving you insane. 

And now, it’s definitely driving you wild. Your tongues finally meet, clashing together as you explore the other’s mouth, the adventure feeling so new yet so familiar, as if you had known each other’s body for so long, from daydreaming about this moment so much. 

The world completely stopped now. Everything went silent, and it’s just you and Lewis living this fiery moment between your souls, sharing all the emotions and sensations travelling through your bodies with one another. 

Neither of you wants to break the kiss, insisting on remaining connected, even if you’re running out of breath - searching for oxygen in the other, breathing each other’s warmth and passion. 

But once you’re forced to distance your mouths, desperate to catch some air, your lips still long on his skin, caressing his cheek lovingly, as your foreheads remain glued, your noses touching, maintaining the typical eye contact that you two are used to already. 

There’s a moment of silence, but neither of you needs to say anything: your bodies, your connection speaks for yourselves, and the infatuated smiles on both your faces aligns with the soft eyes, caring touches as you try to come even closer to each other, Lewis reaching out to hold you safely in his arms again. 

It definitely doesn’t feel real. After dreaming about it for so many weeks, it finally happened - your lips finally met, in an ardent, burning reunion that held all the desperation travelling between your bodies since the first time you saw each other, after all the times where your mouths threatened to kiss on their own will. 

Lewis is in awe, completely in love with you, without a doubt that you are everything that he wants, everything he needs, giving him all the feelings he wants to keep close to his heart, sensing the way they make his heart beat faster, the type of adrenaline that he only finds when he’s near you. 

Without enough words to describe this moment, the man reaches to catch your lips in his again, giving you another long kiss, showing you how badly he wanted this to happen, how many times he pictured this moment, and how perfect it is in reality, way better than any dream he could have while being alone in between the sheets of his cold bed. 

- Your lips are sweeter than any scone we could have at your office - he jokes, after pecking your lips a few more times. 

This is the type of intimacy that you never had with anyone else in your life - the type of connection that you can feel in your soul, reaching the darkest corners of your insides, not leaving one single part of you unnoticed, seeing you in your entirety. 

Breaking the tension between your bodies, you feel yourself relaxing as you wrap your arms around his neck now, allowing a chuckle to escape your lips as you roll your eyes playfully at his words. 

- You’re such a prick - you complement his inside joke, seeing the way he feels comfortable to laugh out loud now, feeling his shoulders shake under your touch, his giggles being enough to make flowers erupt inside of you, leading to new butterflies to appear.  - Yeah, but you seem to like it quite a lot - he whispers teasingly, capturing your lips in his again, in a sloppy yet hungry kiss, trying his best to hold all the impatience running through him at the anticipation of having more of you. 

But he can only do so much, so Lewis’ hands slowly travel down your waist, testing the waters at the way you react when he reaches for your bum, gently rubbing it while you are one who looks for his mouth now, growing needier for him just as much. He smirks into the kiss, hearing the almost unnoticeable little hums that you let out as his hands continue touching your backside, grabbing your ass hungrily as he deepens the kiss again - showing you how he can’t wait to get out of here. 

However, he still has some remarks to make. Admiring the figure in front of him, his eyes land on the navy blue dress that you carefully choose for tonight, one that hugs your body perfectly, leaving very little to his imagination, but one that desperately leaves him wanting more and more from this date.

- You look divine in this dress, darlin’ - he says sweetly, with a hint of seductiveness in his tone, while his hands are still dedicated to your ass, through the fabric of your outfit. 

You know, that’s why you picked it for this date. You were sure that it would drive Lewis mad, and you can’t control the knowing smirk that shows up on your features when he compliments you. And finally, you decide to play your last card:

- What if I told you that I only chose it so you could take it off? - you seductively whisper in his ear, reaching to bite his ear lobe, chanting victory in your head as you notice the way he physically reacts to your words: gulping, his hands tighten the hold on your bum, unable to hold himself back from landing a cheeky little slap on your left ass cheek, before growing serious and asking you “what are we waiting for, then?”

With fire in your eyes, you leave the restaurant, hand in hand with the man whose perfume keeps igniting a burning desire inside of you, making it almost impossible for you to keep track of everything that’s happening around you.

The atmosphere between you two could set everything ablaze inside the car, as you steal glances at each other’s features, silly smiles showing from time to time, mixed with soft, teasing giggles that can be heard from time to time - while you notice the way Lewis is gripping the steering wheel harder, the more your hand insists on travelling through his leg, your lips ghosting on the skin of his neck, making him desperately loosen up the tie that was keeping his outfit and composure all together.

It feels like the car ride back to his place is taking forever, especially in his mind, having you teasing him during the entire time, exploding with anticipation as he finally gets to park his car inside the garage.

The sync you two share could be felt from miles away, so you are both fast to leave the car, your bodies meeting again as Lewis holds you closer to him one more time, your lips hungry for the other’s, almost as if you can’t breathe without the air he brings to your lungs, anymore. 

When his hand snakes around your neck, bringing your face closer so he can deepen the kiss, it’s like everything else stops, existing in this moment just the two of you, in a deserted world that’s just inhabited by the two hungry souls inside of your bodies. 

Sloppily walking to the door, the man can barely pick the right key, struggling to leave your lips untouched, untasted by his own, longing to be close to you as soon as he needs to break the kiss, even for just a second. 

Closing the door behind you, it’s like both of you can feel the weight of all the invisible ties that were once holding you down, leaving your figures. Finally, in between four safe walls that allow the two of you to do everything you want, without any pressure, masks, disguises, having the freedom to be honest with yourselves, with your dreams, needs and desires. 

With your back pressed against the door, your mouths connect again, the passion emanating from your lips, so strongly that it can be felt through each goosebump showing in your skin, your touch making electricity running in Lewis’ veins.

Growing impatient, the man picks you up, his toned arms holding your shape like it’s nothing, his mouth exploring down the skin of your neck while you’re sighing lightly, biting your own lip when realizing how lucky you got tonight. 

His jacket falls to the floor just before he starts carrying you to his room, your fingers playing with the tie that’s still loosely hanging around his neck, smirking at him, both anticipating the following moments. 

Once your feet feel the floor again, you pull him by the tie, connecting your bodies as your fingers start to untie the buttons of his shirt, reading him between the fire mirroring his gaze on you.

He’s enticed by you, by your touch, by the way you seem to make the most powerful wave crash in his body, soul, while seeming to calm him down at the same time, your soft skin soothing all his nerves, wanting to feel more of you, delving himself in the depths of everything you are, everything that you mean to him. 

Once his upper body is in full display for you, your eyes take a second to admire the sight, your hand shamelessly reaching to feel his muscles, to travel between every crevice of his abs, holding yourself to his biceps as if you are on the verge of losing your balance, due to his presence. 

Reaching for you, his hands land on your hips, taking a moment to appreciate you, your beauty, your intensity, the fact that you are, finally, here with him. The tip of his nose nudges yours gently, making a smile appear in both of your faces, and the sparkle in his eyes is noticeable as he shares a loving gaze with you. 

Connecting your lips once more, he quickly distances your mouth, dedicating himself to the skin of your neck, using all his endless time on you, not wanting to rush this moment, wanting to properly taste you, savour the sweetness of your skin, warming himself through you, sharing the connection that’s bonding you together. 

You lean your head back slowly, silently giving him more access to your skin, humming and whining quietly when he finds your sweet spot - your soft sounds giving him the hint, that he happily takes, committing some more minutes to the places that make your back arch, the warmth of his tongue being enough to make you spiral just by feeling him licking the favourite places of your skin. 

His left hand is carefully cupping your face, moving your neck gently as he switches the places he wants to focus on, while his right one is still safely holding your hip, keeping you in place so he can explore your collarbone, landing open mouth, wet yet soft, sweet kisses everywhere he can reach - your shoulder, the part of your chest that your cleavage allows his lips to reach. 

Your hands softly touch his muscles, noticing how they seem to tense the more he grows desperate to get you out of your dress, ready to destroy the barrier that the fabric keeps representing between your bodies, craving to see you in your entirety, anxious to show you just how badly he wants you, needs you. 

Finally, his hands roam your back, reaching for the zip of your dress, slowly undoing it in a matter of seconds - looking at the excited expression in your face that you can’t seem to hide.

Tonight is all about you, for him. He wants to make the most of it, for both of you, hoping he will be able to show you everything you make him feel, how you hold the power to make his heart pump blood faster into his veins, making him weak at the knees everything your hand touches his.

As his hands slowly slide the dress down your body, his lips follow the movement, landing countless amounts of the softest kisses he possibly can give to the bits of skin that he’s slowly unveiling for his eyes, his fingers feeling every curve of your shape that soon comes into full display for the man. 

You feel the warmth of his mouth in between your breasts, down your stomach, one of your hands reaching for his braids, caressing his scalp as he continues dedicated to your skin, to the point of getting on his knees once the dress completely falls to the floor. 

He looks up at you, his big, chocolate, sweet eyes focused on your face, trading glances as he continues to land kisses on your upper thigh, your hip, his fingers caressing your legs, feeling addicted to how soft you feel to the touch, how your perfume seems to make him feel even more obsessed with you. 

Getting up and undoing his pants, letting them fall to the floor as well, he finally meets your body without barriers, your figures gluing to each other again as soon as your mouths touch again, your hands diving in the other’s shape, discovering every corner of the body that you both have been dreaming about incessantly. 

His touch is absolutely lethal. Neck kisser, hips grabber, travelling through your body with just a one way ticket - not planning on coming back after touching heaven with his bare hands.

No heels, no dress, you’re just in your skin, just like Lewis, having the thin fabric of your underwear separating your cores, but feeling how ready he is for you when he finally lays you on the bed, softly grazing his bulge on your center, groaning in between the fight that your tongues keep enduring - opening your legs wider for the man that’s still trying to refrain from moving too much, wanting to enjoy each second of having you all to himself.

Still, you probably feel even more impatient than him, eager to finally get what you came here for, so your nails softly graze the skin on his back, reaching for the band of his boxers, letting him know how badly you want to feel him.

- Eager, aren’t we? - he jokes lightly, his teeth biting your bottom lip gently, hearing the needy whines erupting from your body as you give him puppy eyes. - As if you don’t want me just as much, Sir - fuck, maybe you should stop playing with his head. But maybe you are way too determined to end this night with a victory, desperate to feel him, all the details of his body, wanting to forget about life and all the problems clouding your mind for a moment, while he is making you moan out of pleasure. 

He chuckles slightly at your provocation, ready to completely lose control, so he can finally show you how you have been playing with fire all this time - more than prepared for his flames to connect with yours, burning you two together as you allow your figures to be consumed by the insatiable blaze of pleasure erupting between you. 

But if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Lewis wants to give you everything you ask him for, willing to run around the entire world to grant all your wishes - just so he can reciprocate the immense feelings and sensations that you create on his body and mind.

And if he was feeling a bit nervous in the early evening, right before dinner, now the heat running through his veins makes him feel like he’s being completely electrified by your silhouette, your gaze, your touch - and oh girl, you have no idea what you’re in for, tonight. 

His hand lazily travels down your body, reaching for your panties, his fingers teasingly playing with the band, while his lips finally wrap around one of your nipples, his tongue caressing it until goosebumps are dressing your skin again. 

Your sounds are soft, sweet - traveling to Lewis’ mind, making him feel even weaker than he already is, wanting nothing more than to continue to listen to your moans and whines throughout the entire night. 

Ignoring the band of your underwear, he decides to give in to your pleas - but just a little bit, as his digits slowly start to rub you through the fabric that’s still covering your core. And still, you feel your entire body being set on fire, by the pressure that he strategically applies when reaching your bundle of nerves, his lips still sucking on your right nipple as if the man’s life depends on it. 

His fingers feel how wet you are by now, how ready you are to take him - all of him, wanting his body to possess yours, to cloud your mind until you even forget about your own name. The thoughts travelling through his mind, mixed with the sensations of your wetness, your fingers slightly pulling on his braids, your whines, begging him to touch you more, to give you more, to finally give his all to you, are enough to drive him absolutely wild. 

  Lewis is naturally a dominant man, so the more you open your legs for him, your own fingers trying to grab the band of your panties, desperate to get rid of them, he is the one holding your wrists gently, taking your breath away with another kiss to your lips - while his hands finally reach for your underwear, ripping the fabric apart so you don’t even have to worry about sliding them down your legs.

His action makes a smirk appear in your face, wrapping your lips around his tongue, sucking it lightly as your hand pulls his face even closer to yours - silently letting him know how you like it rough, how you had waited long enough for this moment, how you’re done with the teasing, your fingers reaching for the shape of his hard dick in his boxers, reminding him how he needs to get rid of those, as well. 

Grunting in your mouth, he gets the hint, using all his strength to abandon your figure on the mattress, feeling his skin growing colder as he finally gets up, moving to grab a condom from the bedside table, sharing a teasing, intense gaze with you as his own underwear leaves his body, now. 

His dick looks painfully hard, making drool form in your mouth at the sight, seeing how his hand safely wraps around his member, hissing as he touches himself lightly. Biting his lip, his eyes never leave yours, both losing your minds at a distance, showing just how needy you two are feeling for your bodies to finally merge together. 

Putting on the condom, Lewis meets you on the bed again with a different side of him showing, now. He wants you, all of you, and he wants to give you everything you wish for this moment, forgetting about the hours, the fact that tomorrow will arrive either way - focusing only on this night with you, putting to the side all the different thoughts about an entire life with you, for once. 

He collects some of your wetness with his tip for some seconds, your foreheads touching as your eyes speak for yourselves, your lips savouring the other’s as he gently pushed himself inside of you. 

Both breathing out the air that you were holding in out of anticipation, Lewis’ arms wrap around your figure, bear hugging you so he can feel you closer, while you’re wrapping your legs tighter around the man’s waist.

Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, his lips are quick to adorn your entire face with kisses, wanting to make it as pleasurable and easy for you as possible, in need to feel your body melting with his, so you can feel as carefree as you can. 

With your lips meeting again, the makeout session between your bodies grows hotter and needier, letting him know that he can move, that he desperately needs to move, as your arms snake around his neck, touching his hair, nails grazing on the skin of his shoulders. 

Feeling your warmth and sliding into your wetness is enough for Lewis to let out the hungry man inside of him escape. Starting off slow, he really wants to take his time with you, but the more you groan in his ear, pulling on his braids, the more he feels you are growing needier for more action, more friction, encouraging him to move until sparks are flying from your frames. 

Focusing on the feeling of his hard dick pressing your walls, to the point of making you see stars, you beg him for more, definitely not wanting him to take it slow with you, not wanting to feel like you are making love in this night that reeks of desperate sex, made to solutionate the heat erupting from the both of you, nothing else. 

The more Lewis picks up his pace, the more your sounds grow audible, echoing through the four walls surrounding your bodies, his mouth attached to the sweetest spot on your neck - licking it, sucking on it until purple bruises are showing up on your skin, making him smirk to himself at the sight, the closest he will ever be to mark you as his. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucks you rougher, feeling the way his cock keeps hitting your favourite spot, your moans mixing with the sound of your skin clapping, your hips meeting as you try to move your waist, taking him the best you can. 

Pumping pleasure into your veins, Lewis can’t hold back his own whines and groans, feeling your nails scratching their way down his back, your walls wrapping around him tightly, driving the man absolutely insane as he hides his face in the crook of your neck - only for you to pull him by the braids, connecting your lips in a hot kiss again, your tongues playing with each other until saliva is dripping down your chins. 

It’s hot, sensual, needy, loud, rough, and you don’t know how much more you can take, feeling a bubble slowly growing in the pit of your stomach, as he keeps hitting your g-spot effortlessly, making sure you won’t forget about tonight.

In the middle of his rough, accelerated thrusts, he still takes some time to kiss your cheeks softly, to compliment you, letting you know how good you feel, how you are taking him so well - words that you don’t pay enough attention to reply to. 

You feel yourself on the verge of hitting your climax, growing desperate at the way he keeps moving inside of you - fast, rough, desperate, almost writing his name on your skin, as his lips keep sucking bruises on your chest, his hands travelling through your figure sensually. 

Even if your mind is turning blank already, your pussy throbbing and clenching around his dick, you still try to use all your strength to cut it off, to distance his body from yours, noticing how Lewis immediately stops his movements once he feels your hands on his chest, slightly pushing him away - leaving him with furrowed eyebrows, a confused look on his face. 

- Did I do something wrong? - he immediately asks, only to be shushed with your index finger touching his lips. 

A sultry smirk is covering your features, taking control of the situation now, as you roll Lewis’ body over, so he can lay on his back. Kissing his entire chest, that’s moving up and down as the man tries to catch his breath, you soon find the path back to his mouth, licking his lips softly, only to be met with his hunger once again - his tongue meeting yours halfway. 

He’s enticed by your actions, curious to see what move you’ll put out now, and your movements definitely surprise him. 

Your hand reaches for his dick, wiggling your eyebrows at him once you slowly start to remove the condom from his member - seeing how his eyes widen, his voice calling your name softly yet sternly, trying to catch your attention, so you won’t do it. 

Shushing his troubled mind with another kiss, you let him know that it’s okay, that you have everything under control - winking at the man in front of you, your fingers working to finally release his cock from the condom wrapped around it. 

Now, you are in control, and you feel the most powerful ever when you move to straddle Lewis - only to see him biting his lip again at the view, his hands travelling up and down your sides, stopping at your boobs so he can pay some attention to them, massaging them until he feels you melting at his touch again.

But the melting doesn’t last long. You were so close to your orgasm, but this isn’t how you want tonight to end - in a bear hug, kissing Lewis as you reach your highs, acting like a couple all along. You. Are. Not. Making. Love. 

Turning your back to him, you work your magic, moving so you can slowly connect with him again, sinking down on his dick in a reverse cowgirl moment. You can’t see it, but Lewis is biting his lip again at the sight of your ass in full display for him, feeling his hands touching your ass cheeks before you start moving. 

But this isn’t your first rodeo, and Lewis needs to understand that. Leaning your body so you can hold yourself to his ankles, you start moving your hips up and down, in a seesaw movement that has the man whimpering under your figure in minutes. 

Feeling each other raw only makes your bodies feel hotter, his member diving in your ocean, feeling each inch of your wetness dripping down his shaft the more you bounce on him, sensing how incredibly warm and tight you are for him - leaving him to hold your hips strongly as he admires your silhouette getting all the pleasure from his body, as the man meets your movements, thrusting up inside your needy cunt, harder and faster by the minute. 

On the other hand, you don’t know how you are keeping it together, being left completely speechless at the way Lewis manages to fuck you so good from this new angle you just found, making stars cloud your brain, not being able to say anything besides the filthy, loud moans leaving your throat right now, as you feel every vein of his hard dick moving in your walls, so fast and rough that you know that he is engraving every detail of his dick inside of your pussy, at this point. 

But this is what you wanted all along, and you can’t hide the victorious smile on your face - that you are happy that Lewis can’t see, right now. Your brain keeps cheering at the way you seem to have him wrapped around your finger, having him doing everything you want, allowing you to use him for your pleasure - something that you plan on keeping up.

For you, this isn’t making love, for Lewis, it’s exactly the opposite: if love is fire, you definitely have a lot of flame - especially to set him alight. And that’s how, minutes later, you are whining at the way the tip of his dick purposely hits your g-spot again, feeling so full of his cock that you never want him to stop, this sensation to end, feeding all your dreams and wildest fantasies with him, now. 

You beg him not to stop, and the man’s hand travels up your spine, making you shiver, only for his fingers to intertwine with your hair, making you arch your back in his direction, his other hand on your hip, almost trying to hold you in place as you continuously sink on his cock, drenching him with your juices as you feel the bubble in your stomach almost bursting.

- Touch yourself, baby girl. You wanted me to be rough? Here you go. Now do as I say - his thick, hoarse voice says, entering your ears and travelling through your veins almost with immediate control over your movements, hearing him moan as he notices your hand snaking between your legs.

Your fingers feel your wetness as soon as you reach for your clit, touching yourself in a way that you know so well now, feeling so familiar yet so new as you try to focus on your movements while Lewis’ dick is still buried deep inside of you, not letting you stop for a second. 

Still, you circle your fingers around your pearl, rubbing the juices that are dripping out of your cunt on it, your digits almost escaping your favourite spot to touch at how wet you are, now. 

Your loud moans suddenly disappear, leaving you with just small, needy whimpers to escape from time to time as you focus on your pleasure, on touching yourself as your body starts clenching again, your muscles growing stiff as you can see your release so close already, chasing it the more you rub your clit, as if your life depends on it. 

With a final, deep thrust coming from him, you final hit your high, hearing Lewis moaning behind you as he continues buried inside of your pulsing cunt, emptying inside of you - just how you wanted, exactly how you begged him to do some seconds ago, feeling his cock twitching in between your walls, the more he milks his seed inside of you. 

Regaining your breaths, soon you’re leaving your place on top of him, realizing how his arms are already open, waiting for you to join him. The sight makes a genuine smile appear in your face, lying your head in his chest as you both sigh, your body focusing on the way his arms immediately wrap around your figure, his lips kissing your sweaty forehead, his gentle eyes looking at you as if you are the purest thing he has ever seen - even after all the filthiness that filled this room for the last hour or so. 

The space surrounding you two is comfortable, almost as if it was meant to be, leaving very little space for words, both of you focusing on the other’s gentle touch instead, and the way you just made each other feel. And the soft warmth erupting from his shape is enough to put you to sleep in minutes, especially after feeling your body so tired and sore from the latest activities that took place in today’s agenda. 

Waking up to soft kisses landing on your forehead, some fingers gently playing with your hair, you open your eyes to an adorable Lewis, who's looking down at you with a loving smile plastered all over his face, whispering a soft ‘morning, darlin’ to you.

Last night exceeded all his expectations. To him, it was way more than just sex - it was the common share of the connection that makes your bodies merge into one, taking each other to heaven and back in a matter of minutes, leaving him to feel some butterflies tingling in his stomach just as he reminds himself of how it feels to kiss your sweet lips, how his hands seem to belong glued to your silhouette, travelling through your body during sex, and rubbing your back softly, playing with your hair right after, so he can make you feel loved and desired.

He has been awake for a while now, admiring your peaceful figure while his mind came up with ideas to surprise you. The man wanted to get up, go to your favourite bakery to grab the infamous scones you always share, and maybe even pick some flowers on the way home, so he could see your shy smile on your sleepy features, like he has been dreaming about for so long. 

But, the way you looked so beautiful, so safe and protected to rest on his chest, made him give in to his plans, forgetting about pastries and flowers, acting selfish one more time so he could enjoy every second of having you nestled in him, feeling you so close to the point of even thinking about tattooing your moles in his veins.

Smiling back at him, your lips connect for the first time this morning, making sparkles appear one more time - something that you would pray it wouldn’t happen again. But, shrugging it off, your hand caresses his cheek softly, as you take a deep breath before lying further more into his chest, wanting to feel him closer too. 

Last night was incredible - of course it was. Lewis touched you in ways that no other guy ever did, changing your perspective of desire, neediness, showing how a man acts if he really wants you. 

You know you are not the one for him, you could never be. To be honest, you just wanted to be one of his girls, even for one night, so you could kill the fire erupting between your bodies, finally getting a taste of each other. 

But, as you wake up, the feeling of cuddling him, of being safely wrapped in his eyes, makes your heart shift a little more.

- Never thought you were the cuddle type - you break the silence, a curious smile on your face as you notice his eyebrows furrowing almost in a comical manner. - Oh, baby girl, there’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me yet - he chuckles, kissing your temple as his words make you stare at the horizon for a second.  - Yet? - you can’t stop your mouth, the question escaping your lips before you could even process it.

But instead of considering your reaction weird, he just gives you an honest smile before replying.

- Uhum. I plan on seeing you again, and again, and again - he states confidently, landing a soft kiss on your lips in between each repeated word, sealing his promise. 

Leaving your lips, his mouth is slowly starting to travel down your body again, his eyes shining as he looks up at you while he kisses your chest, moving to the skin of your stomach in seconds.

As much as you want this, there’s a bitter voice in the back of your head, taking you out of the transe that Lewis’ touch always gets you in, forcing you to interrupt his loving actions. 

- You know we shouldn’t do this - you say insecurely, your voice small when compared to the way he makes you feel so powerful and important to him.

He is fast to stop his actions, moving his body to be by your side again, noticing how your eyes look big and even somewhat scared in your face. He knows what’s in your mind: if your boss finds out about any of this, your job will be on the line, and you don’t want to flush your career down the drain because of a man. 

Still, he tries to lighten up the mood, nudging the tip of his nose with yours gently, until he sees a small smile threatening to appear on the corners of your lips.

- Shouldn’t we? This feels pretty right to me - he says, kissing your lips with a light aura surrounding him, almost as if he can send some of that tranquility to you.  - But we are business partners, Lewis… - you try to argue, only to be met with a rejecting look on his face, shaking his head ‘no’ at what you’re trying to imply. - Stop. - I’m not doing anything - you try to reason with him, only for him to wrap his arms tighter around your figure, nestling you in his chest again. - You’re trying to find excuses for what we did. Stop. Nobody cares if we’re business partners, please stop thinking about how your boss won’t be happy if he finds out about us. This happened because we both want each other - he says, in between sultry kisses to your lips.

And just like that, he shushes away all your fears, wrapping you in a soft, easy bubble of love. Soon enough, his arms are picking you up from the bed in bridal style, walking over to the bathroom so you two can have a shower.

It’s weird, but soothing - the way he makes you feel, how you two are so comfortable around each other, even while being naked without having sex, seeing how he hugs you from behind as the water dripping on your skins warms both of your bodies.

- Thank god it’s sunday and I get to have you all to myself - he says in your ear, kissing your shoulder softly, never wanting to let go of you.

Yeah, thank god for the F1 breaks and weekends without work, that help you relax in the comfort of Lewis’ arms, almost making you believe that you could get used to this on a daily basis. 

The shower is filled with laughs, gentle touches, loving kisses, lots of music playing in the background, making you forget about how this man almost drove you to insanity due to the way he touched your body last night - definitely leaving marks on your figure that will forbid you from forgetting about him for some days. 

Still, his touch is as soft as ever when he’s rubbing your back, your belly, your legs, insisting on kissing your features nonstop, voicing out loud how you’re the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, making you blush while you try to cover your pink cheeks from him. 

- I’m going to go get dressed, baby. Take your time, okay? I don’t want you to rush - Lewis informs you, pecking your lips once more before leaving the shower, with a different plan in mind. 

You stay there for a bit more, hoping the warm water can help you soothe the sore sensation in between your legs - and also leaving you with some time alone to think about everything that happened, and how the pet name he just used made a tingling sensation erupt through your entire body. Maybe you like this, maybe you could really get used to this, to see him more, to have more soft moments by his side, besides the sex scenes that you still envision to have with him. 

Putting on a tracksuit, Lewis leaves his house for some minutes, trying to make his plan work now. Rushing, the man goes to the closest bakery, buying some scones, cookies, croissants and a bit of everything that he can see on display, really - not knowing if you are craving something different for breakfast today. 

The man wanted to stick to his initial plan, but the line at the bakery was longer than he expected, and he starts growing scared that you might have left the shower already. So, on the way back home, he picks a small flower from one of his neighbours’ neatly kept vase. 

Stepping out of the shower, you call Lewis’ name, only to be met with silence. Walking around the house, you find it weird that it’s empty, you being the only soul inside of the space right now. There’s a hint of disappointment hitting your heart right now, you can’t lie. You don’t know why he left, why he would leave you alone at his own place, but maybe this is just a sign that you can’t get used to this on a daily basis. 

“It was a fun night, and that’s all it was” - you think to yourself, moving to put your dress from last night back on, a frown on your face as you gather your belongings, getting ready to leave this house as well. 

As you are searching for your purse in the living room, not knowing where you put it in the middle of all the events that took place last night, the front door swings open, startling you as you are met with Lewis’ figure again.

His eyes grow a bit when he sees you in your dress again, his eyebrows furrowing before speaking.

- Are you leaving, love? - he asks quietly, almost as if the thought of spending the day away from you is making him sad already.  - Well, you left as well, so I thought it was a hint for me to go - you try to explain, stuttering a bit at how nervous his presence is making you feel again, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Surprised by your words, he walks over to you.

- A hint? Baby, I went to get us breakfast! - he shows you the bag from the bakery. - Got us scones, of course, some croissants, cookies, and a bunch of other things because I didn’t know what you wanted - now it’s his turn to give you a nervous smile, handing you the small purple flower that he picked for you. - And this is for you. 

How does he have this incessant power in himself to soften up your stone cold heart so much? To the point of almost feeling small tears tingling in your eyes, forcing you to push them away as you take the flower from his hand, smiling like a teenager, feeling the damn crimson painting your cheeks one more time. 

His fingers caress your cheek lovingly, almost afraid of seeing you run away if he gets too close. But still, he lets his feelings show, doing what his heart keeps begging him to do.

- Please don’t go, baby. We don’t have much time just to ourselves outside your office, and today it’s sunday… Unless you don’t want to spend the day with me and you really want to leave, of course - he is rambling, his eyes looking into yours, reading you as another smile erupts from your face, taking action to kiss his lips. - I was really craving a croissant and a coffee - you joke, noticing the relieved sigh that escapes his body, sharing another enamoured smile with you. - Choose a t-shirt from my closet, love. I’ll set the table.

It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice, carefree, light sunday, feeling safe enough to be wrapped in someone’s arms as you share scones and kisses, cuddling up on the sofa while watching silly movies and sharing funny life stories in the middle of it. 

And in between all the worries that show up from time to time, there’s still something that erupts inside of you - something stronger than all the intrusive thoughts that might try to ruin your moments with Lewis. Something that shows you how much you enjoy the time spent by his side, in a way that you never thought you would. 

It even leaves you to believe that, in a parallel world, if things maintain this level of intensity between you two, you might even allow yourself to open up a little more to the man that’s right in front of you - cooking dinner as he shamelessly dances and sings to his playlist, making the most genuines smiles erupt from your figure, ones that you definitely hadn’t seen in a long, long time. 

[rotthepoet]

Need theo and lorenzo head cannons 😔

Good morning sweet pookie, i gotchu!! I needed a little break after that threesome so I did some random, some silly, some fluffy, and some smutty, kay? It’s really just a big brain dump on how I characterize the boys <3 Hope you enjoy, love ;)

P.s. if I have any reoccurring anon’s, if you want me to differentiate you, please feel free to assign yourself an emoji <3 unspoken rule i thought i’d say out loud

Theodore Nott

I agree with literally everyone on this app, he is a smarty pants, but i refuse to believe he sits down and studies

It’s not that he doesn’t care about his grades, he just doesn’t have to try to get good marks. Queen absorbs information like a sponge and retains that shit forever. Doesnt have to waste time with a boring textbook because he commits everything to memory.

That being said, he will remember everything about you. Your favorite movie you mentioned in passing, he saw you eat something particular multiple times he can infer its your favorite and will buy it for you often, he knows your habits, your aspirations, your desires. All of it. Does it for his close friends and lovers <3

Huge smoker. Like. Oral fixation final boss. Needs to have something to smoke or at least chew on at all times

I mentioned before how I think Mattheo and him laugh at people who vape, but Theodore Nott is a two faced LIAR and actually keeps a menthol alto with him at all times. For convenience sake. If you ask him, it’s different because its not a fun lil fruity flavor.

Speaking of Mattheo, those two are best friends. Like ride or die. Like. These two are bread and butter, inseparable and delicious.

Will internalize everything. This is why he gets so worked up and fights people. It may seem like him getting pissy over nothing, but this boy has some unresolved trauma and unmedicated issues.

Theo has ADHD prove me wrong and fuck you for trying(jk love you, but i will die on this hill.) severe anxiety issues, def some depression going on, hes working through some shit.

Theo can process a lot of stimulus at the same time. Watching him hold 3 steady conversations while reading a novel at the same time is a sight to behold.

Smokes weed a lot too. Mostly bud, but he’s smart and keeps a cart on him too for quick bathroom breaks when he needs to chill tf out. It slows down all the thoughts racing around his head. Lets him relax. Lets him feel peace. Let him feel comfortable. He’s been searching for that feeling his whole life.

Mommy and daddy issues check?

Anyways!

Theo is a player, and its not even because he tries to be.

Girls flock towards him, and he needs an outlet.

Sex is a good outlet.

Sex and drugs? Now we’re cooking

He doesn’t care much for the dating scene, didn’t think he was cut out for it. Bad home life. No mom. Depressed and emotionally distant evil dad. Friends and his family are all death eaters? Causes some bad views on relationships as a whole.

Omg but when he falls in love it takes forever but its so hard. Its so devastatingly hard.

It goes from “wow they really make me happy” to “omfg i need to marry them they make me feel complete and comfortable and it feels like i can finally be myself around someone this is the feeling i have been searching for my whole life” really fast when he falls

He’d never love at first sight. Refuse it. He might think someone is pretty or handsome, but he won’t ever describe it as love at first sight.

100% friends to lovers

He’s a quality time kinda guy i think

Just likes co-existing really

Stay in the room with him in silence as he reads and hes so golden

But that will bump up several notches and enjoy every other love language too

He wants to make you love him. He’ll do anything for you. Buy anything for you. Tell you everyday how wonderful you are

He’s being so genuine too

His friends would know

He never shuts up about you

If you had never spoken to his friends, never met them, they’d be able to come up to you in a grocery store and say “oh. You’re <you>, right?”

And dear god he genuinely cries a little in relief when you finally say yes

He’s buried his face in your hair and hugging you so tightly and he tries not to cry because he finally has everything he needs in his arms

He’s such a good boyfriend

Will never question you(at least not at first or without good reason)

Literally worships the ground you walk on

Will apologize first immediately after every meaningless petty fight

Thats different about real fighting though. Stubborn ass bitch

Anyways

Dotes on you everyday

Calls you so many sweet names in Italian

Has an Italian accent but sometimes tries a British accent to throw everyone off.

Argues in italian

Lowkey hates snow

Runs super cold so loves lovvesss hot weather

Will take you to Italy over the summer

Demands you go

Fucks you on the balcony of his family home

Fucks you stupid on the beach

Sorry where was I going with this

Ah yes anyways

Runs super cold so like is a big fan of cuddles. Lots of sweaters for you to steal

He likes turning cuddles into more slow and intimate things

Slowly fingering you as you spoon

Cockwarming in the morning or late at night<3

So much worship.

So much

Just adores you.

Loves fast rough sex but honestly could go on about slow love making for hours

Literally cant stand American reality tv

The biggest kardashian hater

Knows all the gossip because he’s quiet and listens

Doesnt care to share it though

Lorenzo Berkshire

Bitchboy extraordinaire

If I met Lorenzo Berkshire he would become #1 on my shitlist so fast

I called theo a two faced liar as a joke

But Enzo actually is one

Literally puts on the nicest mask for pretty girls, but every ex, and every guy in hogwarts knows he’s a conniving bitch behind closed doors

One of the richest in the group and it shows

Flaunts his money everywhere he goes

His ears are pieced

Also he likes having his ears bitten it can make him hard as a rock in seconds

Dates, but it usually only lasts a month and Hes the worst boyfriend ever

Dumps them whenever he gets bored

But omg when a person gives him his attitude back

Well first he gets even meaner

But also he likes you so much like… that was hot

And if you ignore his existence? On you like a moth to a flame

Craves attention

Such an attention seeker

Still will fight, isn’t very good, but will try

100% a prefect

Showers his pookie with so much love and attention

When he finally gets the person he wants, hes on top of them 24/7

Never a hand straying to far

Literally obsessed

Big fan of exhibitionism

Will fuck uou on the train, the bathrooms, the common room, the classroom

Its all fair game

Would love to see you all tied up in pretty ribbons for his birthday

Ass man 100%

Likes to just get a fistfull while you hug or cuddle

Mattheo and him are the biggest gossipers

Has like 4k followers on instagram because hes so pretty

Father and mother are hirh death eaters. Does anyone know Berkshire lore because i def dont

Like fr can someone explain him to me

Pairs well with anyone in the grouo, really

Gets along especially with Theo or Mattheo

Amazing at card games, and says he’s amazing at chess too. Hes not.

Literally refuses to snack, says it’ll ruin his physique

On the quidditch team much like everyone else he’s friends with

Slays at herbology

Maybe a bit of a smoker? Not often, and def more weed than tobacco

Light weight for reals

Like severely light weight

He’s the laughingstock of the friend group for it

Him and Mattheo have a running bet on who can fuck the most women

Omg omg omg because they so do the alphabet challenge im so sorry but its factual

Lorenzo is currently winning with 15/26 letters in the alphabet but Mattheo isnt too far behind

Its because Lorenzo is so charming and Mattheo…. Is himself.

Anyways back to being his significant other

Will spoil you

Relentlessly

Lowkey expects head in return but that will wear ofd eventually

109% more likely to start a fwb situation than anything else

Treats you like a girlfriend this whole time

Kisses you sweetly, holds uou close when you sleep, mumbles about how special you are

Just being a girlfriend without the title because then it gets too weird

Loses his shit if you get tired of trying and break it off

Genuinely ballistic if he loses you

Will pull as many favors and as many strings as he can to get yiu back

Seriously considers murder for a while

Anyways he gets you back baby<3

Speaking of babies hes super good with kids

Look at that face

Amazing dad face

Scared of marriage lmao

Bad parents. Fucked up views on relationships

Its a thing for all of them tbh

[lost-romantique]

Me the moment Stolitz becomes a love triangle...

NOTHING YOU PEOPLE SAY WILL EVER CONVINCE ME THAT A LOVE TRIANGLE IS A GOOD IDEA!!

*cough* This is to address the concerns that people have been messaging me on reddit and tumblr.

~~~

Oh Stolas needs to experience a healthy romantic relationship...

The man needs friends. For fucks sakes, stop trying to get in his pants and get this man to join a fucking book club or something. He's lonely.

Don't you think it would be romantic if Stolas actually chose to be with Blitz in the end?

Why does Stolas choosing Blitz always have to involve Stolas breaking the heart of another guy in the process?

I want Stolas to experience that fairy tale romance.

They don't exist.

We can get more jealous Blitz.

No, we are getting more "Depressed Blitz that thinks he's gonna die alone because this man has a major inferiority complex the size of fucking Jupiter."

Blitz already had his chance...

The man didn't even know he was taking a test?

Blitz needs to fix himself first before he gets in a relationship with Stolas...

Blitz needs to deal with the root of his intimacy issues, yes. However, the idea that someone has to fix themselves in order to be in a relationship is a rather ableist viewpoint I do not condone.

Stolas also has problems that prevent him from getting in a normal relationship, but that's a whole other can of worms I don't want to open.

Blitz made Stolas cry!

STOP. IGNORING. HIS. FEELINGS.

This man has been in the verge of sobbing his eyes out in Full Moon and Apology Tour, and y'all didn't notice because Stolas didn't notice.

A love triangle will save their relationship.

Oh yes, who needs proper communication when the true answer all along was introducing a new person to the trash fire that is their problems. /j

Blitz and Stolas should just remain friends, and go find other partners.

Blitz has a body count of people he could have ended up with, but he didn't give a shit about any of them because that damn bird changed his brain chemistry so hard he went to a Party dedicated to hating his sorry ass.

And Stolas...

couldn't even forget about the motherfucker after going 25 years no contact. Do you honestly think he's going to get over him now after falling in love with the guy?

I'll be blunt, these guys also have way too much history together to remain "just friends" and stay "just friends".

Do I think they need to know each other as friends first before they start a serious relationship? Of course! But I also think these guys are gonna suck at being "just friends" and remaining "just friends".

Blitz and Stolas aren't endgame.

If these idiots were not endgame, than Brandon and Viv wasted four years of ours and their time on a relationship that was never going to come into fruition.

Also, the show is about Blitz and has always been about Blitz. The reason why Stolas is such an important character is because their building him up to be this red lizard's main love interest.

I am so tired. 😫

[chericherilvr]

summary: Soobin's love language is physical touch, and you just have to deal with it—at all cost. w/c: 526 warnings: cursing? clingy Soobin, just pure fluff author's note: I have to go rnrn, but I am so making the rest of the boy's love language. This comeback... this comeback killed me... I love summer songs...

Sometimes, people are destined to surprise us. You could know everything about someone, yet one day it all changes.

You still remember the times in which Soobin was shy. The soft glances after looking away. The small smiles, eyes following your every move, after you entered a room. That time a bet made you get ever so close to him with a teasing "do I make you nervous?" with him immediately breaking into a blushing mess—the guys still tease him about it to this day.

How could someone so confident on stage, be so shy outside of it.

And how could that same person now, months later, be the most shameless person you knew.

"Binnie, I can barely breathe"

Yet Soobin doesn't reply. Currently with your body under his, what was supposed to be a cute movie-cuddling date, turned into a call for help. It's summer for fuck's sake. And no amount of love could make you feel any less hot.

All day he had been following you around: The hand-holding while cooking—barely got to not burn something. The constant side hugs, back hugs, picking you up and spinning whenever he felt like it. He always had to have something touching you, knowing you were there.

"Soobin."

"I don't care." He mumbles from the crook of your neck—which his face is buried in. It tickles.

"Hope you like cuddling with a corpse if I can't soon get some water to hydrate" I say, although I allow my hand to go play with his hair.

"You'd be the cutest corpse"

"Not the compliment you think it is"

He whines and hugs you closer, tighter. Without a warning, he sits back up, pulling you up with him to stand. A gasp passes your lips, eyes widened before you realize he moved to hug you from behind.

"Go hydrate or whatever you humans do"

You shake your head slowly, and only take the first steps towards the kitchen after seconds of processing what was happening.

"Newsflash, you're human too, you need to hydrate or whatever"

"I am not," his whisper carasses your ears, "matter of a fact, all I need to be alive is this!" he pats the side of your hips.

The cups left on the kitchen counter are cold at touch, especially after filling them up with water. Gently, you tap on the hand wrapped around you, and try to pull it. He shakes his head.

"Water Soobin, drink water."

Sometimes, people are meant to surprise us. That way it keeps things interesting. Some people change out of their own will; for others a simple "Drink or no more cuddles" gets them out of your back for a couple seconds. The sight of Soobin is truly still adorable, even when he rushes to drink as if death was hovering above if he didn't.

You could always expect and await for someone to change, yet you know the people closest to you.

Just like how Soobin clung back to your after hydration. Just how you will always allow him to—no matter if you can't breathe. No matter if he stays there forever.

[nottivagos]

MECHANIC DANNY MECHANIC DANNY 🤤🤤 reader who works on his shop during summer break and just can't stop staring at him 'cause Danny undoes his belt as he works, stomach spilling out and the waistband of his boxers visible

(Knock knock! Who's there?) Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Sunday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: oh nonnie.... you wouldn't do this to me.... surely....? i am actually going feral i think you broke me whilst i wrote this. it doesn't help that @orangeblossomsintheair literally fed me more feral thoughts for this ask.

The air in the reception area of the garage was stifling. It didn’t help that the AC had been broken for months, unfixed due to Danny’s disinterest in mending it, so when the summer months did arrive, it hit you all like a burning tidal wave. The humidity made you restless, constantly fidgeting in your seat as your body tried to regulate a cool temperature, the fabric of your flimsy outfit clinging to your sweaty skin.

During these days, you knew not to approach Danny whilst he worked. Not only did the hot weather sour his mood even more than it usually was, he was typically non-verbal, responding to your questions and comments with a disinterested grunt. Your cheeks flushed as you sat in the excruciating heat, clammy hands unable to type onto invoices you desperately needed to do.

Sweat beaded at your forehead, as you stared blankly at the computer screen, the water by your side now a painful lukewarm temperature instead of the desired ice cold, but you still drank it in one gulp, as you struggled in the warmth of your little office. You could feel yourself forming a migraine from your lack of fluids, the annoying pain in your head causing your vision to blur. 

Danny’s loud rock music wasn’t making it better. Hard guitar riffs and pounding drums droned around the workshop as he tended to a client’s car, the occasional clanging of his metal tools being rummaged around in his toolbox adding to the harsh noises. You groaned in annoyance, rubbing your throbbing forehead to try and alleviate the pain, before pushing yourself out of your swivel chair, and over to the water fountain to refill your now empty cup.

Standing there idly, you let the cold enough water pour into the cup. The trickling sound acted as a soothing alternative to Danny’s row in the workshop. Glancing at the worn-out clock on the wall for a moment, you sighed, noticing that it was only midday. As much as you appreciated your job, it wasn’t the best. Being known as the “pretty face in the reception” wasn’t the nicest title to have in the male-dominated garage, and it didn’t help that your boss was newly out of a divorce, making him an angry brute that channelled his anger into fixing cars as a living.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” broke you out of your thoughts. You jumped at the intensity of Daniel’s agitated roar, placing the now filled cup on the top of the fountain whilst you watched him with curious eyes. He gritted his teeth in annoyance whilst you admired him from afar in silence, tossing the large wrench he was holding in a tight grip to the side.

It landed on the cold floor with a deafening bang, followed by Daniel charging around the car like a raging bull in a bullfight. However, in those moments, you weren’t scared of his grumpy facial expressions or tense muscles, you were completely in awe of him. Baggy overalls tied around his soft tummy ever so more snugly, his slightly tighter white vest ruined by the numerous oil smears and smudges rode up his stomach, the sight intoxicating. Panting, his cheeks flushed from the manual labour as you watched the sweat form on his wet forehead, before a dirty hand came to wipe the grime away, but only smearing more mess onto his skin in the process.

You could tell he was hot and bothered, and my God was the moment dreamy. Most people would cower with fear, but here you were completely enamoured by his aggressive and pent-up demeanour. His stress was palpable, even more than it usually was. It was common for him to feel more agitated during these months, more clients demanded MOTs and services as the Summer Holidays approached with haste. You’d observed him grunting and grumbling his dislikes for the period whenever he barked orders at you to complete more paperwork for him, or ordering specific parts from manufacturers for people’s cars.

In a way, you sympathised with him. You understood he had a lot on his plate, his coping mechanisms highlighted that. During the summer, he’d smoke more, which did make you concerned for his health. To which he’d reply with a bark, telling you to “keep out of his business and to stop trying to be his goddamn wife”, obviously your innocent care hitting a nerve too close to home for the mechanic.

You could see the way his vest was now clinging to his stomach, sweat visible down his burly arms and the top of his hairy chest as his muscles slightly flexed whenever he used a tool on the engine of his current project. You could sense his distaste for the heat and the effect it was having on his comfort of his clothes from the safety of the office whilst you continued to ogle at him through the window, thighs slowly rubbing together to cause some friction to aid the pooling heat of your insides.

What didn't help was the fact that he'd just discarded his vest with an unamused grunt. He tossed the clothing to the side, his hairy chest and soft stomach now happily presenting itself. You watched his happy trail slowly creep up from his clothed bottoms, his boxers showing ever so slightly over his waistband as he slipped his belt off with ease to alleviate some more of his growing discomfort, and felt your cheeks burn with the desire to trace your fingertips across the messy trail slowly up his softer belly.

“Stupid fuckin’ summer,” he muttered profanities with annoyance. Your eyes now glued onto him as he lay on the workshop floor, which he'd swiftly moved his position to as you daydreamt, inspecting the car from below. “Everyone’s got the same fuckin’ demands, same problems,” Danny continued to grumble whilst agitated, holding his torch with a death grip, jaw tensely locked into place in annoyance.

You stood there stunned like a deer in headlights. His unkempt beauty was intoxicating, each hairy feature of his plush belly spilling out of his trousers suffocating waistband pulling you in like a magnetic force you couldn't resist even with your own might.

So sucked into your own thoughts, you didn't even realise the death stare he'd given you as he realised you were staring at him from inside. He snorted angrily, nostrils flaring before he roared.

“Oi! What do you think you're gawkin’ at, huh?” He barked from the workshop. The intensity of his loud voice made you jump out of your daze, followed by the realisation that he was storming towards you with annoyance. “I thought I told you to do some of the books, princess,” he gruffly spoke as he finally made his way to you inside the office, standing menacingly in front of you, “I don't think I mentioned idling around the water fountain as something you were supposed to do today.”

Your mouth was agape as his chunky form loomed over you, his large figure swallowing your small one whole. You gulped nervously, anxiety twisting in your stomach, mingling with the adrenaline shooting through your veins as your eyes averted his own gaze.

“I-I'm sorry, boss, I was just getting a drink!” You exclaimed in panic, cheeks flushing incredibly hot in embarrassment of being caught ogling.

“Gettin’ a drink doesn't involve starin’, missy,” Danny snorted, a smirk forming on his lips at your bashful state. “Especially not starin’ at your boss whilst he's working, don'tcha think?” He quizzed, his eyebrow raising with humour, tinged with slight teasing.

“No, Danny. It doesn't,” you replied bashfully, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to overcome the embarrassment you were feeling.

He snorted with amusement in response, pushing his bare chest against your front, the softness of his tummy pressing ever so slightly on you driving you wild. “You're lucky that you have such a pretty face so I can let you off easily, doll,” he hummed, a calloused hand coming to cup your burning cheek.

“Otherwise, you'd be in big trouble,” he warned lowly, thumb rubbing across the apple of your cheek, the intimacy like electricity. “God, you're going to be the death of me one day, princess.”

Chuckling nervously in response, his words made you shiver on the spot, the feeling overwhelming. “I'm sorry, D-Danny,” you apologised meekly, your lips forming a sad frown. “I won't stare again, I promise.”

“I know you won't,” Danny cooed, his lips now hovering over your own as his large nose nuzzled closer to your nose. “Come to my office later,” his words fanned hotly over your lip, “I'll give you somethin’ to stare at then, sweetheart.”

Danny's lips then stole a kiss from you, leaving you breathless as he abruptly pulled away, patting your cheek with his hand as it slipped away from your face.

“I hope to see you later, princess,” he said with a smug smile, “I'd hate for you to lose your job over not following a small demand.” He finished, turning on his heel towards the exit of the office before giving you a knowing wink, then leaving you alone dumbfounded and flustered at the water fountain.

like divorced mechanic!danny? fancy sending me an ask in my inbox so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[michanvalentine]

I just read a post here on Tumblr. I don’t feel like making some elaborate speech—because I’m lazy. And honestly, it would be pointless.

All I’ll say is this: in a massive game like BG3, reducing a character to a single narrative arc—especially an evil one, and especially when the vast majority of first-time players tend to take the hero path—would be a huge mistake.

If that were the case, Astarion would make no sense in any heroic playthrough and would just get staked at the first opportunity. Or maybe a little later, especially if you’re playing consistently. All morally ambiguous characters in BG3 follow the same good/evil final pattern: either they stay on the path forced onto them by others (almost always abusers), or they break free and carve out their own.

It’s literally the theme of the game, for fuck’s sake—you don’t need a degree to get it. Even the song “I Want to Live” is about that. They’re designed to reflect the player’s choices and playstyle, to be adaptable so that everyone—especially players who are morally thoughtful—can enjoy them and face meaningful dilemmas.

I honestly can’t understand this need to strip Astarion of all his nuance, inner contradictions, strengths, and his potential to be something else—and flatten him into some monstrous, evil being who wants nothing but blood and power. It’s so frustrating.

I mean, seriously—the devs and writers busted their asses to deliver an immersive, complex, and emotionally layered experience, and despite all of that being crystal clear in the game, people still insist on chopping off pieces of it to make a version of the character that fits their narrative—but which is, in truth, just a mutilated shell.

And no, this has nothing to do with which of Astarion’s arcs is better, cooler, or more “valid,” for the record. People can play however the hell they want.

What it does have to do with is the absurd assumption that he has no alternative to ascension. That he has no duality. That he isn’t as adaptable as the others, and that he’s some kind of monolithic character who—unlike literally every other character in any media ever—has no arc of transformation, no narrative development, no complexity.

And that’s such a ridiculous thing to even think, especially when you consider that Astarion is one of the companions who clearly received the most attention from the dev team. Seriously, at that point it’s just another slap in the face to poor Wyll, who’s out there being completely forgotten.

Sometimes it feels like Astarion fans themselves throw out bullshit takes just to piss off other Astarion fans. I’m relatively new to the fandom and this stuff still leaves me speechless. There’s a difference between talking about preferences and headcanons, and talking about facts.

People even go as far as speaking on behalf of the devs—what they supposedly intended or didn’t intend during the design and writing process. Like… really? You’re in their heads now? Everyone’s a Mind Flayer when it suits them, huh?

[achaotichuman]

Acotar Rant

Whenever I see shit like ‘Tamlin is depressed and wants to die because Feyre left him’ ‘He’s so desperate for Feyre and that’s whats driven him to this point.’ All I can think is, do we just collectively think Tamlin is immune to trauma??

To even grasp this situation you have to go way back before the book even starts. Tamlin was preyed on by the pedophile that helped ruin his childhood who then cursed him because he told her no.

He then had to watch all his close friends die in vain for him while he desperately searched for decades for another solution. He brought in refugees fleeing from other Courts. He. Carried. His. Dead. Citizens. And. Hand. Buried. Them. And he had to do it all without ever being able to fall apart.

The Feyre came along, and he learned to care for her. He didnt want her to just be used to break the curse because he didnt want to just be using her. He fell in love with a person that saw past the mask (both figuratively and literally) and allowed him a safe space. One that had long ago been stripped from him.

Then she was sexually assaulted, tortured and killed in front of him. He watched the love of his life die for him and he was completely unable to do anything about it.

Then he was given another chance to protect her and he took it. Granted this is not to excuse his actions, but there has to be some nuance given to the fact that he watched her literally die and was by the grace of God given another chance.

Then this same girl that he loved and desperately wanted to protect from the same thing happening again, was kidnapped. This same woman then tricked him into believing she had once again been raped by the same monster who assaulted her under the mountain and killed his family.

The very same woman then mind raped his sentries, his friends, and then proceeded to destroy his Court which he had spent decades trying everything in his power to protect, from the inside out. Then allowed Hybern to rampage through, destroying a neighbouring Court in the process.

He had to watch his people die all over again, when Feyre lied to him, he saw her dying under the mountain all over again. And he still went to war! He was spying on Hybern and gave over vital information about them to the High lords!

Then he dragged Beron out by his neck to fight for Prythian.

And when all was said and done he helped bring back the monster that had destroyed him mentally all for the sake of the girl that had killed his people.

Then he left them all alone in the end. Spring was abandoned and him along with it. This man, who very clearly has abandonment issues from the fact he was rejected by his family and beat within an inch of his life to the point he ran from home to the War Camps, was left completely by himself.

Lucien does come to see him once every now and again, but I also don’t blame Tamlin for not wanting him too. Considering even though Lucien had extremely valid reasons for leaving when he did, he still left Spring for dead without an explanation.

In the end, it is not ‘Tamlin needs to get over himself and his ex’ its Tamlin needs an extreme amount of mental help. He is a survivor as much as the rest of them.

Not even Feyre was able to recover from her mental health without a ton of fucking help. No one was, everyone got their support groups in the end

Tamlin went through it all without ever taking himself into consideration and still made it. He deserves to be able to fall apart.

[golden-rolling-hills]

More Autistic Pony and Darry Headcanons

these took me a few days but here y’all go

*scatters headcanons likes they’re birdseed and runs away*

Pony has literally no sense of danger, bro ran into a burning church for christ sake he doesn’t understand danger at all. this scares the fuck out of Darry and Soda

Pony is a chewer, he has a chewy necklace that he uses when he’s at home but at school he literally devours the ends of pens like om nom nom

Pony is much more prone to meltdowns than Darry and he can get pretty aggressive during them. his stims when he’s upset are very self-injurious but if Darry or Soda did something to cause him to meltdown he will hit them

Darry was the kind of kid to heavily mask all day at school and break down as soon as he got home

he’s very routine oriented and if his schedule and routine get messed up then he doesn’t know how to cope

his meltdowns look a lot different than Pony’s. Pony’s are much more stereotypical autistic meltdowns but Darry’s are more yelling at people and stomping around. he’ll usually go off to his room alone and let himself cry and stim but he doesn’t let other people see him like that unless he’s so upset that he can’t hold it in

Pony had the worse sensory issues out of the two of them, he hates tags and seams but he especially hates long sleeves, this is why he cuts the sleeves off of all his hand me downs

he actually likes that most of his clothes are hand me downs because that means they’re already soft and broken in

Darry is the most literal thinker in the world, he can’t understand metaphors or analogies or sarcasm like at all, Pony doesn’t struggle with this as much though and it makes Darry lowkey upset

Pony has a really hard time with routine and time management. he needs to be guided through getting ready for school everyday or else he would just show up late and still in his pajamas

Pony has absolutely zero filter. he says every single thought he has out loud. his social skills are so unbelievably non existent. he really struggles with making friends and the only real actual friend he’s ever had is Johnny

Darry has always masked his autism a lot and he was actually pretty popular in school. if he wasn’t so handsome and athletic then his awkwardness probably wouldn’t have been as well received but since he was then people found his quirks charming and endearing

Pony is very particular about food, he likes to eat the same exact things every day and he’d rather starve than try something new

Darry definitely has alexythmia, he has no clue how he’s feeling ever and emotions make no sense to him

Pony and Darry were diagnosed in the same year, pony was 2 and darry was 8. Pony’s pediatrician noticed signs in him early has referred him to a specialist to be diagnosed and after going through the diagnosis process with pony, the Curtis parents were like “wait, hold up a minute. this all sounds like it applies to Darry too.” so they had him assessed too.

after a meltdown, Pony just wants to be cuddled. he loves deep pressure so tight hugs and weighted blankets are his best friends. Soda is always his go to for a good bear hug, not just because he’s his brother but also because Soda is the master of hugs

Pony always has his headphones on, he’s usually listening to music but even when he’s not he doesn’t take them off

Soda is not the token neurotypical sibling though, he canonically had the most textbook case of ADHD that i’ve ever seen, argue with a wall

[snowwybear]

𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔠𝔞𝔱 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 | 𝘪𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭

If looks could kill you wouldn't want to be Vinnie Hacker. You and your boyfriend where currently at a party, it was a mutuals friends' birthday. Right now, you were currently death staring this bimbo currently talking to your boyfriend.

You hated how she flipped her hair every time she laughed and how she was inching closer to Vinnie as the conversation went on. You knew what she wanted, it made your blood boil, and your poor boyfriend is too oblivious to realise what's going on. You knew in your heart Vinnie would never cheat on you. However, it was hard to try convince your brain that this bimbo was nothing more than a random chick at a party.

She was drop dead gorgeous and nothing you could compete with. You looked at how both of them were laughing together, they looked happy. And here you stood sulking in the corner, miserable. You always looked miserable next to Vinnie. Vinnie Hacker and his miserable girlfriend. But those two looked good together, like they belonged together. You couldn't stand looking at them any longer, you quickly turned around, putting down your cup on some random service and left the house waiting outside for your uber. You took a deep breath before sending Vinnie a message that you had left.

At first everything was fine, but as time went on Vinnie grew very uncomfortable by this girl's behaviour. He was hoping you would come along, get to use his scary dog privileges. But you didn't come to rescue him. He checked the last place you were standing; he checked his surrounding from where he was standing. Nothing, you weren't anywhere. Vinnie started to panic, usually you would stand away from the crowd whenever you needed a break from people, but you would always be in a spot that Vinnie could easily see you. Swiftly ending his conversation with the girl, he went around asking if anyone had seen you. It wasn't until someone told him he saw you leave, he looked at his phone and saw your message.

You heard the door slam. Once you got home you immediately curled up into bed trying to process your emotions. Vinnie stormed into the bedroom, walking right up to the edge the bed, his chest heaving up and down trying not to explode with anger.

"What the hell? I was looking everywhere for you, why didn't you tell me?" Vinnie spat out.

"I don't want to talk you". You respond with the same tone.

"What did I do?"

You mumbled back, "nothing.".

"What did I do?" He asked again. even more annoyed

"Nothing, fucks sake can you just leave me alone!" You turned and faced away from Vinnie, too annoyed with his presence to speak with him. Throwing up his hands in frustration, Vinnie left the room and headed into the living room.

It took a while for you to come out, but eventually you slowly made your way into the living room. Vinnie heard your footsteps, but he didn't look up. You took a seat on the edge of the coach.

"I'm sorry". You said a little breathy. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that".

"Its okay". Vinnie turned to face you. "Can you tell me why you left without telling me?"

"I saw that girl talking to you. The two of you looked so good together, you were laughing together, and both looked so happy. I don't know, I guess it just made me think I that I shouldn't be with you".

Vinnie sat and listened inventively.

'You are the most kind, caring, patient, humble and most important person in my life, and seeing the two of you together made me think that I don't have what you need a good girlfriend to have.".

Vinnie scooted closer to you and held your hand.

"Babe, your kind, caring and attentive too, you just show it differently. But that doesn't mean I don't know that it's your way of telling me you love me. You're perfect for me and I'm sorry if I haven't told you that".

You let out a breath and looked into Vinnie's eyes. You saw all the love and admiration he had for you in his deep brown eyes. You placed your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you".

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

as usual, I'm billy. WE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW, JAC SCHAEFFER

jen filling the gaps with her own headacanons, i see you girl

they're kinda doing their own little agatha deep dive, lol. she's a fascinating specimen, okay? don't you just want to study her in a petri dish?

billy, who's definitely not been projecting his mommy issues on a whole coven (three dead, several unlocked traumas) and hasn't been following agatha around like a lost puppy in need of a mentor: it'S nOT LoYALitY It'S AnALYSiS

that's agatha's entire son, dear lord. 'maximoffs are so dramatic' my ass.

YOU'VE BEEN TRYING TO VIOLENTLY SHOVE HER IN THE WARM EMBRACE OF A COVEN FOR THE PAST THREE TRIALS. for fuck's sake, william.

he's acting so mature and cynical when in fact he's so hurt about the people who died and about agatha's betrayal. he's putting up barriers, he's trying to trick himself into not caring, when crying and letting himself mourn would be much healthier responses! in other words, he's learning alllll of agatha's shitty coping mechanisms.

no but I won't shut up about this, it's the kind of psychological response that really fascinates me. billy has had to learn to lie and censor his true self because he doesn't want to upset his parents. he went through something EXTREMELY traumatic (reincarnating in someone else's dead body? hello?) and he can't process it with the kaplans, he knows it would hurt them too much.

so he finds agatha who is, on paper, someone who can absolutely understand what he's been trough and could totally help and guide him. he's tried to win her over, he's tried to open up, to understand her and to be understood in return. and agatha, DESPITE LOVING THIS KID SO FREAKING MUCH, is so EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED that she has rebuked almost every attempt at a deeper connection. and when you do that to a kid, not only you hurt them, you teach them by example. billy is not mature enough to be the bigger person, he sees agatha hurting him, he'll want to do the same. that's the kind of shit parents imprint on you that will be hell to unlearn as an adult.

agatha, who is - I promise you! - truly hurt by billy's words: ahahaha ouch!

I want to strangle her

one moment of silence for jen who's now alone and stuck in the middle between these two

agatha has somehow managed to sell billy's immortal soul to her ex wife while ALSO breaking her own heart AND said wife's heart in the process. and she's having A TRULY NORMAL ONE about it.

aaaaand she goes straight for jen (no pun intended). starts slow and bratty with some kindergarten insults.

OUCH, AGATHA. WHAT THE FUCK?!! AND TWIRLING YOUR HAIR?!

YOU FUCKING BITCH.

oh dear lord look at jen's face. this is actually the first time I see everyone's faces (fuck you lighting department) and it's making agatha's behavior even harder to stomach. and yes by the way, this scene is absolutely a metaphor for microaggression. knowing that jen's big moment is coming is only a half-consolation.

also agatha falling on her face, that's maybe a quarter of a consolation.

of course it is. this is the green witch trial, it's about the circle of nature, it's about life and death beginning and ending and beginning again.

here comes the tantrum!!!

now she yells at billy. and he scrambles to justify himself. this is funny but also SO FUCKED UP??

lilia when billy makes a mess: that's okay baby I got you.

agatha when billy makes a mess: oh are you having a problem? I'M GONNA MAKE IT ALLLLLL ABOUT ME! I'M GOING TO MAKE IT FUCKING WORSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(fuck she's literally my dad. jac schaeffer I'm sending you my therapy bill)

so, anyway. if a parental figure does this to you? they're being vile and immature. I don't care if they've got their own issues, this is abuse.

(and frankly, learn to recognize this pattern in friends and partners and family too. but it's especially egregious when it's done to a literal child.)

and billy going from apologetic to stone faced. barriers up. he needs to protect himself from her.

while agatha huffs and puffs, jen quietly gets on her knees when she sees the shoes. the camera goes from sharon's shoes to lilia's to alice's.

you guys, this episode is... it's so good? it's not in-your-face like episode seven, but it's doing a lot of subtle things that are getting under my skin

agatha of course plans to barrel through her problems like a rouge zamboni, and just look at jen's reaction! I'm astonished at what sasheer zamata is accomplishing in this scene. I admit the first time around I was too fascinated by hahn chewing scenery to look anywhere else, I got a poorer viewing experience for that. jen has had all her walls up, she's been doing her one note mean girl bit for seven episodes. look at her now. she is crumbling.

god I love me a show that takes very funny characters and let you enjoy them only to pull the rug from under your feet and go: now let's examine why all their funny traits are fucked up trauma responses!

JESUS CHRIST AGATHA

agatha notices billy looking at the shoes and of course mocks him about it. what are you going to do, pay actual respect? cry and properly mourn? like some weak baby???

pay attention now: billy gets mad, and agatha suddenly looks at him with interest and, dare I say, expectation? was she provoking him on purpose?

yes, yes she was. that's the evil of agatha harkness. and I'm not saying her tantrum wasn't real, she was absolutely upset and she relished pouring all her spite and anger and desperation into it. but agatha's theatrics are always happening for a reason. when she's alone she's much more subdued; when she's in public, she vents out her overwhelming emotions trough a big fucking show, so she can make it everyone's else problem. that's the equivalent of when an abuser throws a tantrum and somehow always ends up breaking your stuff, never their own. it's both self-soothing and a scare tactic, two birds with one stone. that's why she went after jen and immediately taunted her about lilia. her words were precise and on target. she enjoyed watching jen squirm.

and yelling at billy just now? it was another one of her calculated risks. what billy is going to do next is anyone's guess, but at least they're not stuck on the Road any longer.

I don't know if I'm making myself clear enough. it's like, how can agatha be so smart and such an idiot at the same time? because she's a coward. because she chooses to. because the alternative is facing her own fucking issues and admitting the truth.

and the truth is scary. the truth is too awful.

next up: billy lands them at the morgue.

great job there, agatha!!

go to episode 8 part 5

[koralinewrites]

Okay so I’m having Lost Eden thoughts and I need to rant about it. I know people don’t like it, but Laito’s route is actually so good in this game. Something I like about it is that it shows more of the ‘family’ side of the Sakamaki’s, something you don’t really ever get in other games, besides the occasional show of brotherly love from Ayato. But okay, back to Lost Eden. There will be spoilers for the story below.

For those who don’t know, basically Karheinz dies and gives his ‘Demon King’ powers to whoever you pick to romance. The bad thing about this is that Laito wants NOTHING to do with Karlheinz or his powers; he’d rather not remember that he was related to that man. 

Something I like to think of is that when Laito doesn’t want to acknowledge something uncomfortable, he just stuffs it in a glass jar in his mind and closes the lid as tight as possible. What this results in is something that would normally be just the tiniest slip of those emotions becomes a giant explosion of everything that was pushed down. When this man breaks, he breaks HARD.

This is shown well in Dark Fate when he learns what Karlheinz did (the fact that everything — his and his family’s trauma — was an experiment and carefully planned). But I’ve already made a post about Laito’s crashout and this is about Lost Eden.

ANYWAYS, (I’m summarizing and skipping things just to get my point across, so I’d suggest reading the translations if you want the full story) Laito ends up making a deal with Kino to kill his brothers. The thought process is that ‘oh, my brothers don’t care for me so this should be fine’ or something similar.

This thought process is QUICKLY proven incorrect by Ayato when the two are facing off. It’s Laito vs Ayato, Laito trying to kill Ayato. Ayato doesn’t fight back besides defending himself, and he basically yells at Laito about how MUCH he and the rest of the brothers actually do care for and worry about him. Ever since Laito got Karlheinz’s powers, he was more irritable and worse mentally than before, and the others RECOGNIZED that. And they were worried for their brother.

This realization kinda shell-shocks Laito, enough to not kill his brothers. This part makes me so sick (in the best way) because it’s basically just Ayato shaking Laito, being like “Yes, dumbass, we’re worried sick about you because we fucking care!” And Laito’s just “…you guys… care…?”

Another example of the familial relationship shown in this game is when Yui gets kidnapped by Kino and taken away to wherever he lives. Laito is about ready to CRASH OUT at that point, and the others recognize that. So what do they do?

THEY LOOK FOR YUI.

They try to figure out where Yui is FOR LAITO’S SAKE. And Laito himself is, once again, stunned. That they’re being nice, that they care.

And the answer his brain comes up with is that “Oh, you’re just scared that I can kill you with the powers I have.”

This part is quite funny, as Ayato is like “oh, motherfucker AGAIN?!! How many times do we have to TEACH YOU THIS LESSON???? THAT WE CARE????”

But it gets better when fucking SHU chimes in with something akin to “Is that REALLY the only reason you think we’d be helping you…?” And when Laito says “duh?” Shu just… gives the biggest sigh and replies like “Y’know what, believe what you want. I’m not fighting this.”

(All dialogue is paraphrased to get the point across, seriously go read translations cause they do a way better job-)

But THIS is why I can’t hate Lost Eden. This, right here, the fact that, okay YES it’s the bare minimum when it comes to familial relationships, but it shows that they actually CARE. That they CAN be a true family, that they CAN worry for each other, that they CAN help each other. And something so tragic is that Laito almost basically refuses to see it, despite them literally yelling at him and waving big signs in front of his face.

There’s nothing anyone can say to make me dislike this game, at least Laito’s route. Because, in a route where you’re basically alone most of the time with only one or two other brothers talking to you besides Laito, these family moments are so pure and I cherish every one.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map Post-Script

After two months of so, my little writing experiment At Sea Without a Map has come to an end. And because I'm vain, I not only felt compelled to share it, but to talk about it in depth after the fact, so here we are. This is going to be long, though, so I'm not only going to break it into sections, but put it all under the cut for the sake of your dashboard. So go ahead and dive into the depths of the Sea of Monsters with me one more time!

Part 1: Never Stop Blowing Up

The writing process of Wizard School Mysteries Book 3 was really strained - not because of the book itself, mind you. When I was actually able to work on it, Book 3 came together really well - I think it required the least substantial rewrites of any my novels thus far. It's just that real life was kind of beating the shit out of me while I was trying to get it done - or maybe the better metaphor was that it was just slowly but steadily draining me of energy all the time. I'm honestly surprised I got the book out in roughly the same amount of time as the first two - by the way life had been treating me, it should have taken longer.

But when I got done with it I was accutely aware of how tired I was. I still had the creative drive, but fuck I needed something simple as a palette cleanser - something easy, and more importantly, something that was allowed to be bad. I needed something creative to do that was surplus to requirements and fully within its rights to suck ass so long as I had fun making it.

Around this time, I decided to rewatch Dimension 20's Never Stop Blowing Up. Brief explanation of what that is: Dimension 20 is an actual play show, i.e. a recording of people playing D&D and other TTRPGs. I'd say its reputation is built on the contrast of its main DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who makes these meticulously crafted campaign plans, and his chaotic band of improv comedian players who promptly derail those plans spectacularly. Like, a good deal of the show's humor comes from Emily Ashford or Ally Beardsly doing something so off-the-wall that it shatters whatever the scene was going to be and creates a far more absurd and zany spectacle in its place. Which is why Never Stop Blowing Up is pretty notable, because it's the one campaign where Brennan himself is the agent of chaos, fully unleashing his own brand of madness that the players struggle to keep up with. And fuck does he seem to have fun with it.

Of course, all of the analysis above is purely from the outside looking in - it's likely that a lot of the "chaos" is played up for the audience. But still... there is something to the idea of a person who's been working on meticulously structured stories letting loose and just doing something extremely stupid.

So I decided to give myself a Never Stop Blowing Up moment - a short story that would be simple by design, with no standards to live up to or goal beyond "have fun telling a silly little story." I then came up with a few key criteria:

It can't be set in the Midgaheim/ATOM universe. I don't want the burden of figuring out where this story would fit among others.

It's gotta be a romance. People who've read my books might have picked up on the fact that I like to write about people falling in love, for the same reason I like to write about fire-breathing reptiles and friendly monsters (i.e. I use writing to indulge in things I'll never experience in real life). I've only used romance as subplots in my fiction before, and tend to feel a bit guilty if I focus on it too long - like I'm being self indulgent. Well, this is all about self indulgence, so the romance should be front and center.

It's gotta be SIMPLE, episodic even. Not complex plotting required.

I almost chose my xenomorph romance for this, but I had developed its outline to the point where it would be too complex to fit. I then considered a sort of superhero story that could be pitched as "what if Bringing Up Baby but Katherine Hepburn's character is a Harley Quinn-esque supervillain and Cary Grant's character gets turned into some sort of horrifying genetic mutant in the first ten minutes." That one hit a weird roadblock when I got to the character brainstorming phase (the first phase of any writing project I do) - I was trying to figure out what the mad scientist who turns out Cary Grant-figure into a mutant would be named, came up with the name "Dr. Skullfuck," immediately realized that having a character named "Dr. Skullfuck" is a Mark Millar-ass writing move that I could not allow myself to do, but then couldn't stop thinking of the name "Dr. Skullfuck" and giggling, which just brought all thinking to a grinding halt on that project.

(I'll still probably do it someday, though - just, you know, without Dr. Skullfuck)

Inspiration struck again, though. I'd been getting into Epic: The Musical, a musical retelling of The Odyssey, and it put me in the mood for a sea monster story. But, more than that, it got me thinking about one particular archetype from sea monster stories - but that brings us to the next part of this Post Script...

Part 2: It Was Always About Calibani

Ok, so, one of the big changes Epic: The Musical made involved Odysseus's encounter with the sirens, and before you read more of my rambling, I'd like you to watch two animatics for the two songs in question here:

A summary: one of the sirens takes the form of Odysseus's wife to try and tempt him into getting in the water, Odysseus tricks her into giving him directions, captures her and the rest of her kind, and proceeds to have his men slaughter them horribly. In the OG story the sirens don't die - nor does their song involve imitating a man's wife, for that matter, it's just a really pretty song.

This is done for an important narrative purpose - Epic: The Musical is focused on analyzing the moral ambiguity of Odysseus, and how it is constantly challenged by the impossible choices he is forced to make in his attempt to get home. At this point in the musical, Odysseus has decided to stop trying to be a compassionate man, shirking all mercy in favor of utter ruthless pursuit of his goals. These two songs are meant to be unsettling as hell - this is the beginning of a series of heartless choices by both Odysseus and his men that will culminate in the mutiny and complete annihilation of Odysseus's crew, as well as Odysseus himself being so hopelessly stranded that nothing short of divine intervention will save him.

I bring this up because when I first heard these two songs - specifically while watching these two animatics - it, like... it devastated me. I was so horrified and sad, so shaken by it. And part of it was for the reasons outlined above, but admittedly that wasn't the gut reaction I had. No, my immediate reaction was, and I quoute my own broken brain verbatim here: "You can't kill the sirens! They're not for killing, they're for loving!"

...now, those of you who know me are probably not surprised by this very stupid sentiment coming from me. One of my more popular posts is just me talking about how down bad I would be for various folkloric monsters whose whole shtick is "looks like a pretty lady but Watch Out." But as a person filled with immense self loathing and doubt, my brain immediately looked at that very stupid sentiment I expressed and said, "Wait, no, that's fucking dumb, I'm fucking dumb. The sirens are remorseless murderers. These sirens in particular preyed upon a man's love for his wife, who he has not seen in twelve years, to convince him to let them kill him. They are, by all standards of morality, Very Fucking Evil, and if they were not women you would not feel bad about them getting killed."

And as my brain argued with itself over this topic, I got to thinking about the various monstrous/othered sea women of The Odyssey - not just the sirens, but the witch Circe, the nymph Calypso, the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. And I thought about the others of their kind in other myths and folktales - selkies, mermaids, etc.

There's an archetype of sea monster that focuses entirely on one specific anxiety sailors are prone to, namely the fact that (for a good deal of human history) being on a boat meant spending a lot of time away from women. The horror of this monster is how it uses that desire for female company to tempt people into danger - like a mirage, it leads you to expose yourself to danger in pursuit of an illusory comfort.

But, unlike real world mirages, these monstrous sea women DO exist in their stories. More than that, they're often, like, sad and lonely. Their narrative purpose is just to be a temptation, but that doesn't change the fact that they do have lives of their own in these worlds. And, softie that I am, I can't help feeling sad for them, especially the ones who actually seem to want the same companionship the sailors they tempt want. Sailors don't stay with their Circes, they don't marry their Calypsos. The sirens live on a barren rock, alone, Scylla is left to wallow in misery at her monstrous form, and the selkie always has to leave for fear of being trapped by a person who won't love her on her terms.

I realized I had my hook for this simple, easy, silly little sea monster romance story: I was going to give a sea woman the happy ending she'd never get from anyone else.

Sailor may be the protagonist, but make no mistake: At Sea Without a Map was always, always, ALWAYS about Calibani.

The goal with Calibani was simple: I was going to set up a fairly standard Monstrous Sea Woman, but where other stories would let her be in one episode of the travel narrative and move on, this one would stick around. She'd be an unambiguous predator of human beings - an open and admitted maneater - but she would have no true malice to her. She, like all predators, eats what she can get to survive, and it just so happens that she's adapted to eat humans. And the story would pose the same question to the reader that my brain posed to me during Different Beast: is there any way you could make a siren-style sea monster sympathetic? Can you make a normal person who doesn't have my particular brain rot look at a maneating siren and think, "You're not supposed to kill her, you're supposed to love her!"

One of the few unavoidable plot points of At Sea Without a Map was that Calibani and Sailor's relationship would become romantic. What kind of romance it was could have varied substantially - it could have been one-sided, it could have been toxic, it could have been far more tragic OR far more comedic. But it was always, always going to be a romance of some sort - the goal of this experiment was to make you, the reader, love Calibani. All else was icing on the cake.

I decided to base Calibani's personality on Miranda from The Tempest - i.e. a sweet girl who is both wordly and naive, who understands the strange setting of our "lost at sea" story far better than the audience viewpoint character does, but views the mundane world of the audience viewpoint character with wonder and naiveté. In fact I almost named her Miranda outright... except I already had a character in the setting I chose for this story who had that name, and as an allusion to the same Shakespearean character no less. So I settled on naming her after Miranda's adoptive sibling (of sorts), Caliban - more fitting in some ways, as Caliban is a fish-human hybrid who is arguable more native to the magic island in The Tempest than Miranda herself.

(Calibani isn't the only Tempest name homage, either - her mother, Sycorax, takes her name directly from Caliban's unseen but oft-spoken of witch mother. Dr. Antonia Warefore takes her first name from Antonio, one of the human villains in The Tempest who hopes to use being lost at sea as a way to perform a coup. And the mothman Iriel takes her name from Ariel, the wind spirit in The Tempest who aids the wizard Prospero in controlling the magic island. If Sailor has a "real" name, it's probably either Ferdinand or Miranda, the two lovers who manage to blend civilization and the wilderness together with their romance.)

Visually, I wanted Calibani to not be any common archetype of sea monster woman, but rather something that evokes the popular images while still being her own thing. She's not a mermaid or a siren or a selkie - she's basically "what if a sea serpent was also a girl." In-universe, she's chubby because she, like all marine megafauna, needs blubber to survive. Out-of-universe, she's chubby because I've found that routinely drawing cute chubby girls is good for my mental health.

Part 3: CYOA

Now, while we live in a post-Muncher society where shame and cringe are emotions only the cowardly should experience, I am nonetheless Very Catholic about expressing my own feelings of, like, liking girls and shit. I cannot help feeling guilty when publicly expressing adoration of women without, like, an excuse - it's gotta be a joke or something, you know? I can't be genuine about it, or else Jesus will beat me with a cane for disrespecting women with my lecherous gaze.

But luckily I've cultivated a loyal audience of fellow monsterfuckers, which meant I had an excuse lined up: if I made this a choose your own adventure type deal, a story with audience participation, then you all would be my accomplices. And Jesus can't cane all of us! He doesn't have enough hands! I found a loophole bigger than his stigmata!

Plus I love collaborative story-telling - there's a thrill in not having total control of where the narrative is going. As Brennan Lee Mulligan must know, there's a joy in having to deal with the chaos thrown your way by letting others grab the figurative ball, even if just for a moment.

Part 4: Offbeat Melody

Since I did not want to set this story in Midgaheim, I decided to steer myself away from a vaguely medieval setting altogether. But I also didn't want to limit myself with the need for "realism" that putting it in a normal sea would require, and making a new setting whole cloth would start pushing this project into "not easy" territory.

Luckily, I had a setting lying around that I hadn't played with in a while, which just so happened to have a location that was PERFECT for the sort of Never Stop Blowing Up style madness I was aiming for. For a few years I ran a Monster of the Week TTRPG campaign called Offbeat Melody, and one of its core setting elements was taking the goblin universe hypothesis in paranormal science (yeah it's a real hypothesis) to an illogical extreme. We had specifically seen glimpses of the Sea of Monsters in Offbeat Melody, i.e. the parallel universe where monsters like Nessie, Ogopogo, Champ, and the like all hail from. Well, why not have a whole story set there? It's literally a universe devoted solely to creating sea monsters - what better place to strand our modern Odysseus?

Offbeat Melody was always sort of a Never Stop Blowing Up project, or at least NSBU adjacent. Some of my most unhinged story-telling moments are in that campaign - you could make a supercut of just the "commercial breaks" in the various sessions and it'd basically be an I Think You Should Leave episode. Taking one obscure corner of its multiversal world and exploring it in detail was perfect for this project.

Part 5: Monster by Monster

With our main romance as sorted out as could be for a CYOA story, it was time to figure out the "episodes" of this sea voyage. I settled on there being ten to roughly align with The Odyssey - just in terms of number, mind you, not in a one-to-one comparison. The first was, obviously, Calibani herself, which left nine more slots for me to fill with monsters. Let's go through them together in brief:

Tree Storks - any lost at sea story eventually has to get its protagonist into an island at some point, but this immediately begs the question, "Why don't they just stay on the island where it's safe?" The answer to that question has to be, "it's not safe there, actually." The Odyssey does this quickly and cleverly with a one two punch: the first island seems safe until you realize the food on it brainwashes you into forgetting everything except your desire to eat it, and the second island is full of delicious sheep but also giants who will eat you just as easily as they eat the sheep. When other islands show up in the story later, you immediately regard them with suspicion, because you don't know HOW they're going to be fucked up, but they definitely will be. My goal with the second episode was to establish the same sort of danger - that land is NOT safe, that islands WILL be fucked up and dangerous in ways you might not expect.

I also wanted to establish that this is not just a sea of monsters, but a very WEIRD sea of WEIRD monsters. It couldn't be any old monster on this island - it had to be one that was unique, unexpected, and maybe just a bit silly while still being menacing.

I've always felt that there's a lot of un-mined horror potential in storks, cranes, and herons - any bird with a long neck and spear-like beak it uses to stab smaller creatures from above. Just imagine yourself in a frog's place in the world - tiny, going about your business, when suddenly something shoots down at you from above and impales you before you even feel the shadow fall over your face. Or perhaps you did see the shadow - some of these birds spread their wings to create shade specifically to attract fish, and then spear the poor little bastards.

Well, what do people often look to islands for when out at sea? Shade - the shade of a palm tree. And palm fronds kinda resemble feathers, don't they? Wouldn't it be both ludicrous and terrifying is there was a stork big enough to mimic a palm tree - and wouldn't that be a DEVIOUS trap for a sun-drenched sailor to fall for? So the Tree Storks were born.

The Globster - I made a list of sea monster archetypes in the early planning for this project, and one I wanted to include was a kraken, i.e. some sort of tentacled sea beast. But I didn't want to do JUST a big squid or octopus, or even a riff on them. I wanted to take the idea of "big sea monster with lots of tentacles" into a stranger direction.

Since the Sea of Monsters is explicitly the home universe of lake and sea monster cryptids, I thought it might be fun if ASWaM's kraken equivalent was a globster - just a big ball of rotten meat. I love drawing monstrous faces, so I decided it'd just be, like, MADE of hideous rotten faces, all melting and congealing together, with its tentacles doubling as the tongues of its many mouths. A perfectly wretched image that, like the Tree Storks, would do well to establish how Fucked things could get in this setting. Plus similar monsters had appeared in Offbeat Melody, which would make for a fun sense of familiarity for the, like, five or so readers of mine who had listened to that campaign before.

Captain Peter & the Dolphin - Another thing I did in the early planning stages of this project was make a list of the different sea voyage stories I know and love, the most contentious of which is The Life of Pi. That's a story that I love on a literal level but kind of hate on a figurative level - its whole theme/message is that doubt is the worst thing you can have, that if you don't commit to believing something with zealous conviction you are a coward. As a person who thinks doubt is valid, that "I don't know" is sometimes the ONLY truly valid answer to a question, I have issues with that message.

But I can't help loving the beautifully ludicrous idea of a non-anthropomorphic tiger sailing the ocean on a big Odyssey of its own. Like, if that story didn't actively hate me for being agnostic, it would be one of my favorites.

So I decided to, you know, just steal the idea of a tiger Odysseus. The tiger in The Life of Pi is named Richard Parker. Richard Parker also happens to be the name of Peter Parker's dad. Hence we get Captain Peter - the figurative son of Richard Parker, if you will. And to ratchet up the absurdity of a tiger Odysseus, I made him a pirate and the sole sailor of his voyage. Somehow, this tiger has manned a boat on his own.

Captain Peter was intended to be the hero of another story - a sign for the readers that it IS possible for a stranded person (or, in this case, tiger) to survive out here. To that end, he had to rescue our heroes from another threat, but not one that would be interesting enough to take the focus off of the tiger pirate. Originally I planned for that threat to just be a big shark, but I ended up liking my shark design too much to put it in a role that small, so I quickly designed a nasty dolphin for the role instead. I think that worked out well, honestly.

Dr. Neptune - Episodes 5 and 6 were the mid-point of this journey, so I wanted the two monsters of those to escalate things significantly. I figured episode 5 was probably a good place to FINALLY give some meaningful exposition on what was going on, and there are a lot of stories about mad scientists doing weird shit on islands in my big list of sea voyage stories I love. So we get Dr. Neptune, a classical brain-in-a-jar mad scientist who's affable enough to give more-or-less accurate exposition but loony enough to be a problem. This also felt like a good spot to remind the reader that Calibani is not just a girl with a tail but rather a Sea Monster herself, and one that we'd been making stronger by allying with.

With his human-but-not-quite nature and cyclops eye, Dr. Neptune could sort of be seen as the Polyphemus of this story, couldn't he?

The Crocodisle - One of the sea monster archetypes on my list was "the island that's actually a sleeping monster," of which there are many in mythology and folklore. My favorite is the Jasconius from the voyage of St. Brendan, mainly because it's more or less benign and actually comes back to help St. Brendan and his crew at the end of the story. I always love when I can find an old story with a friendly monster in it.

When thinking of my own spin on the island monster concept, I remembered the only Magic the Gathering card I had as a kid, which I still have and love to this day: The Sandbar Crocodile. This card already inspired Crocogon's color scheme in The Atomic time of Monsters, but I felt I could go to that well again one more time, and so made a crocodile that wasn't just a sandbar, but a whole damn island to itself. And, like Jasconius, it turns out he's pretty chill.

I did not think of the pun name "Crocodisle" until I was actually writing the chapter in question.

The Femdom Mermaids - These three were a late addition to the roster. When I had Calibani bring up mermaids early in the story, I realized as soon as I wrote her rant about them that we'd HAVE to meet some later on in the story.

The readers had significantly shaped Calibani and Sailor's romance by this point, and I decided that it could be useful to have a chapter that was devoted to showing definitively how these two were good for each other. I thought the mermaids could provide a good contrast: have them act out a seemingly more benign take on the monstrous sea women trope (they abduct our hero to protect and care for them!) only for it to quickly feel MORE deranged than Calibani's comparatively simple desire just to eat him.

The spirit of Calibani's rant about mermaids was taken from weird* girls I knew in high school complaining about cheerleaders, so I wanted the mermaids to look like the sea monster equivalent of popular kids to Calibani's chubby weird girl. Two of them got the names of famous beauties - Helyne = Helen of Troy, Clio = Cleopatra.

(*when I say "weird" I mean it in a complimentary and affectionate sense)

Bob, meanwhile, kinda... rebelled, I guess? Before I had names for them, I listed "bob" by her as just, like, a descriptor for her hair cut, but then I liked it as her name, and once she was named Bob she became more than just a mean popular girl. She was a weirdo too, the little punching bag of the two mean popular girls who did their dirty work and smiled through their abuse because hey, at least they included her. It gave the trio an easily defined dynamic, helped make two of the three more visibly nasty, and gave us comic relief in an arc that could very well have gotten too uncomfortable otherwise.

And I guess it worked - readers REALLY loved Bob, and were very vocal about it, and I realized mid-arc that I had accidentally made her too likable to just leave in this arc. So Bob got to be rescued from her awful friend group thanks to readers like YOU.

Lord Ironteeth - yeah, this was the shark that was too cool to be a minor threat. When I drew his noggin, I realized he would need a chapter of his own, one with gravitas. I decided he'd specifically be the threshold guardian -once we beat him, we'd know for sure how to get home, even if there were a few more threats in store.

Spindle Inc and Sycorax - when I was a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare about being on some sort of underwater sea station that had this huge sea serpent trapped inside it. I'd look at the sea serpent from a window within the station and see it coiling in its tank, only for it to look at me with fury. In that glance I would suddenly realize two things with absolute clarity: first, it was going to break free and kill everyone, and second, we deserved that destruction for what we had done to it. The terror of the dream was less that the sea serpent was going to break free, and more the guilt of knowing that all the mayhem that was about to unfold was our fault to begin with.

I thought that would be fun to homage with the penultimate chapter of this story. OBVIOUSLY the sea serpent was Calibani's mom, obviously the trauma of its capture was why Calibani grew into a predator that specializes in hunting humans, obviously we would have to free the sea serpent despite that running counter to Sailor's goal of getting home. Easy, easy, easy plot point to include.

Spindle, Inc. is the primary antagonistic force in Offbeat Melody, so they easily slotted into the role of the arrogant humans who captured this monster for nefarious and selfish motives. They could tie a lot of other plot threads together too - Dr. Neptune was a scientist who worked for them as a contractor only to get screwed over (i.e. they stranded him in the Sea of Monsters, expecting him to die, and then used his research to make their own base of operations in it), we'd learn of him through a spindle briefcase left behind by some unfortunate rogue agent who got eaten by the Globster while he was trying to escape, hell they could even be one of the possible origins of Sailor themself (more on that later). Very useful villains, Spindle.

The Abyssal Mother - I knew the last sea monster would need a lot of punch to it. I briefly considered just a big whale - the Moby Dick to Spindle's corporate Ahab - but it felt underwhelming after all that came before. So I went for arguably the most dramatic possible sea monster, a full on Cthulhu-style elder god. If you're a frequent follower of this blog, you might know I have particularly high standards for Eldritch Abominations, so I realized this was going to be a pretty big challenge for me to live up to, and decided to keep the cthulhu in question reserved to the last few entries as a result - the less it appears, the less it has to live up to.

I realized I had a good angle when my experiments with the Cthulhu "squid for a head" concept ended up having a face framed in shadow - you know, the same visual that our protagonist has in most appearances. That provided some very juicy parallels between the two that made this final monster feel particularly noteworthy to me, ones that I'll leave you to ponder, since they tie into...

Part 6: Themes

I did not set out to have a theme in this story. I just wanted to make a sailor and a sea monster kiss. That was my only goal.

But I really don't begin with theme in ANY of my writing. I figure out topics I want to address, but for all my novels I feel like the themes didn't start coming together until about halfway through the first draft, when enough of the elements of the story had been set down and interacted with each other enough for me to realize what I was saying with them. A huge part of my second and third drafts for my novels have focused on making the themes of my stories more concrete and unified.

Well, ASWaM is very much a first draft of a story, but it's a simple enough story that I think the theme found itself pretty well despite lacking subsequent drafts to refine it.

ASWaM is about doubt and direction. It's about being adrift in a world that is in many ways hostile by nature, about not feeling like you're where you're supposed to be or even WHO you're supposed to be, and about setting off aimlessly in the hope that maybe you'll find your way to that mythical land of "what my life is supposed to be."

When I began the story, Sailor had amnesia and wore clothes that obscured their identity as a way to make it easier for anyone to step into Sailor's role. Sailor had to feel like You, the Reader, and so we don't know their name, their gender, their eye color, their hair color, even their skin color (note that their hands are always wearing gloves, and their face is always in shadow).

But it also meant Sailor is, well, undefined, at least at the start of the story. Sailor doesn't know who they are, what they are, how they came to be. Sailor feels distinctly that they should be Something Else, should be Somewhere Else, should be Someone Else, should not be who/what/where they are. Sailor is plagued by doubt, by a need to go in a different direction, by a need to be other than they are.

This initially contrasts with Calibani, who begins the story very confident that she is doing exactly what she was designed to be doing and acting exactly like she should be. As they interact, they begin to shift each other in opposite directions - Calibani questions her existence and nature, sometimes to a self destructive degree, and Sailor begins to find something about who and where they are that they like. They find a healthy middle ground together - doubtful enough to want to be better people, but with love for themselves that allows them to not feel the need to up-heave their lives entirely.

I knew at the start that I would build an expectation for there to be some answer to the question of who Sailor is and where they came from, because those are the questions that begin the whole narrative. I brainstormed a number of answers to those questions, but once I got a few chapters into writing the story and saw this theme of doubt developing, I realized I couldn't answer them. From a thematic standpoint, the doubt HAD to remain. So I gave hints to possible answers, bits of evidence to support the possibility of them being true, but never planted a smoking gun that answered it for sure.

Sailor can't know the answer because NONE of us know the answer. Outside of blind Life of Pi style faith, you cannot know for sure that you are living the life you're supposed to live. All you can do is figure out whether you're happy with the life you've got, or if you need a change. Sailor will never know who they are supposed to be, but they did learn who they are, and they love that person now.

For those curious, the possible Sailor origins are:

Occam's Razor: they're exactly what Dr. Neptune theorized, i.e. a human who got stranded in the Bermuda Triangle (or the Devil's Triangle or any other number of paranormal triangles) and fell into the Sea of Monsters. The trauma of that experience gave them amnesia. It's just brain damage and bad luck.

A Spindle Experiment: Dr. Warefore mentions that Spindle has been trying to find a way to make a human who can evolve like the denizens of the Sea of Monsters. Sailor may well be an attempt to do just that, perhaps one they wrote off as a failure and abandoned (they do that a lot)

A Deep One: Sailor is the offspring of one of the denizens of the Sea of Monsters (most likely the Abyssal Mother herself) who has somehow been tricked into believing they are human, to the point where they seem to be human to everyone else, even other monsters. Maybe a human summoned a sea monster to breed with on earth, and Sailor ended up being subconsciously drawn back to the Sea by their blood. Maybe Sailor never actually lived on earth at all, but was only made to THINK they had as part of the transformation into a human.

The Platonic Ideal of a Sailor: the Sea of Monsters is full of archetypal concepts, and arguably a sailor trying to find their way home is just as archetypal as any sea serpent, mermaid, or kraken. Our only proof that humans aren't native to the Sea of Monsters is Dr. Neptune, and he's not as reliable an expert as he claims to be.

This theme of doubt and direction also made the compass more important to the narrative than a simply mechanic for audience participation - a compass, after all, gives direction, and the feeling that Sailor is not where they're supposed to be, that they need to head in a different direction, is ultimately the catalyst of the plot. The compass is, in many ways, the antagonist of the story - the force that keeps Sailor from accepting themself. I realized this a little after I started making the different directions have personalities - initially they just represented broad concepts (North = follow conventional wisdom ala the North Star, South = preserve your short-term self interest at all costs, East = act with curiosity and be willing to take calculated risks, and West = throw caution to the wind and do anything that seems novel and exciting), but over time they became little characters themselves.

Since it was our thematic antagonist, I decided to pepper in some ideas about what the compass might be in-universe - and, in a move that would no doubt frustrate the compass, we also don't know for sure which of those is "correct." Is the compass a poltergeist, some amalgamation of dead sailors who try to steer other lost souls home? Is it a malign entity that leeches off of those desperate enough to seek its aid, living through them while pretending to aid them? Is it a device Spindle made to lure sailors to their clutches, OR to guide their experiments in human/monster hybrids? Was it a cursed item that forced a sea monster to assume a human shape? Who can say - the compass sure can't, it can only tell you a direction to go in.

Part 7: Q&A

Since this was an interactive story, I felt it was only fitting to add one last interactive element to this post-script write up, and some of your happily obliged me by sending in questions.

When I noticed how fast readers were falling for Calibani, I figured there was a good chance we'd end up staying in the Sea of Monsters. By chapter 7, I figured it was more or less a given, and by the end of the Lord Ironteeth encounter I was almost 100% sure Sailor would remain at sea. There was always a chance, though - while a look at the polls shows that the audience got more and more on the same page towards the end, there were always dissenting voices, and the desire to get an answer to the question of Who Sailor Was remained strong, as a number of people kept trying to find angles where they could get that AND stay with Calibani.

I was surprised early on by how easily the audience fell in love with Calibani, to the point where I made a few posts commenting on it. I mean, I shouldn't have been - as I said earlier, I have cultivated an audience of fellow monsterfuckers on here, and I know at least a few of them saw my bait and knew they could get me to be freaky in a way we found mutually agreeable (thank you all again for helping me escape being caned by Jesus for being horny).

Like, we REPEATEDLY ignored developing the plot in the Tree Storks chapter for several days just to spend more time with Calibani - something that I enjoyed immensely (this whole thing was an excuse for me to write and draw a cute chubby sea monster girl as much as possible aftter all) but also knew as a storyteller was not what most would consider a good story call. I like how it turned out, but it defied conventional narrative wisdom, you know? I was surprised.

On the other side of the coin, I was also surprised by how the audience NEVER chose an option that was humorously disastrous. I gave plenty of them, and, like, generally in collaborative storytelling there will be at least one moment where your collaborators decide to do the really, REALLY stupid thing that makes everything spiral out of control really quickly. I figured at least once the audience would choose the troll response, but no, you guys worked hard to keep Sailor and Calibani alive. You refused to let them hurt each other, refused to let them throw themselves into danger, refused to imperil them for your own chuckles. It was very sweet and unexpected.

I say "you refused" but to be fair it's not like NO ONE voted for the troll options - they generally got a handful of votes, just one that was beaten by a landslide of more reasonable options. Hopefully those of you who voted for the troll options enjoyed Bob throwing you a bone by disintegrating Dr. Warefore - that was my consolation prize to you.

Yes. I knew at the beginning that there would be two endings for this story: either Sailor leaves the Sea and goes home, or Sailor stays there forever. Or, you know, Sailor dies as a result of you guys choosing several stupid options in a row, but as stated above you guys avoided those scenarios pretty decisively.

Had Sailor gone home, the following would have occurred: first, they would forget everything that happened in the Sea of Monsters. Second, they would wake up in a hospital, having been found in the Atlantic Ocean by a human-recovery charity run by... oh, isn't that funny, some tech company named Spindle Inc! Spindle would foot the medical bills and even offer Sailor a job, but Sailor would decline because even now they're still not sure what Spindle even does. Sailor would go back to their life and find it familiar and utterly mundane, but not particularly happy. Their father died when they were 18, their mother was never in the picture, they have no siblings. They worked an office job and were sort of a nonentity - that position has long since been filled, but Sailor gets a new job and lives out much the same life: simple, mundane, dreary. Every now and then they get a pang of desire to leave, to go to sea, but they push it out of mind. They never even see the ocean again as long as they live.

Sailor would have gotten the normal life they thought they were supposed to have, the normal memories and name and identity, the mundane life of a normal person. And they just had to trade everything they found in the Sea of Monsters to get it. A question is answered, a direction is followed, but is it the right answer, the right direction?

Well, I think doubt would have remained.

I had a very vague idea for there to be some sort of man-eating giant in, like, a crystal castle. He got cut to make way for the mermaids.

I wanted to fit in a big whale and a giant crustacean, but there wasn't room or an interesting angle for me to want to make room for them. Saved for a possible sequel, I suppose.

I also wanted to have a scene with, like, DOZENS of sea monsters, including some of the ones from Offbeat Melody, but the goal of "this should be EASY you dumbass" made me kill that idea pretty quick.

Thank you!

The primary inspirations were:

The Odyssey and Epic: the Musical

The voyage of St. Brendan

The many "weird shit happens on an island" movies in Toho's filmography, i.e. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, Son of Godzilla, Yog Monster of the Deep, Matango, etc.

The Island of Dr. Moreau

The Boy and the Heron

Ponyo (specifically Ponyo's parents - I wanted Sailor to have the same desperate energy as that wizard who fucks the giant sea goddess)

The Life of Pi

Slay the Princess (perhaps most obvious in the use of second person narration, multiple voices in the protagonist's head, and falling in love with a creature that has tried to kill you at least once)

I'm going to use this to springboard to a related point in a second, but first a genuine yet humorous answer: Yes, absolutely yes, I am enough of a big romantic sap that I would give everything about my life away to be with a person who loves me and explore a world of monsters in a heartbeat. Hell, I would have jumped in the water the minute Calibani asked and died with her fangs in my neck and a smile on my face. I am dumb this way. Do not follow my example.

On that related point, though... Most stories like this, I daresay ALL stories like this that I know of, end with the hero abandoning the fantasy world in favor of reality, never to return. And that seems like the proper choice and lesson on the surface - we don't want to tell audiences to give up their real life in favor of a fantasy, after all. That's encouraging escapism, and that's not healthy!

But, like... textually speaking, the fantastical world IS real to the characters in these stories. And it's often not really an escape - was Sailor's life devoid of conflict and suffering in the Sea of Monsters? Fuck no! It's just that they figured out how to deal with that conflict and suffering - they built skills and a support system, they adapted, they learned how to overcome what was there.

I think it can be argued that sometimes the return to a "normal" world is, in itself, an escape - the idea that your life can spiral into chaos but that's ok, you can just reset everything and go back to The Way It Was and Should Be is just as unrealistic and unhealthy an idea as You Should Escape to A Better World. Sometimes your plans for your life fall apart, sometimes you're thrown into a place you never intended to go, sometimes you have to learn skills you never anticipated needing and ally with people you never thought you'd befriend to deal with problems you never dreamed you'd have to overcome. And sometimes it's ok to look at your derailed life, your Not Where You Should Be life, and say, "Well, I've learned how to live here... maybe I can stay."

Especially if there's a cute chubby sea monster girl who loves you.

Bob was never supposed to appear past chapter 7, but about halfway through that chapter I realized the audience and I myself would be heartbroken if we didn't rescue her. Definitely for the best - she provided some well-needed comic relief in the final chapters.

This is gonna sound snarky, but, yeah - there were 58 choices with four options a piece, and we only chose one of the four. While some of the options would have similar results, almost none would have had identical outcomes. And some would have been VERY different.

Like, to go back to the beginning: when Calibani attacked, we could either throw a net on her, harpoon her, try to drive around her, or hide below deck. We picked the net, but for the other three options:

Harpooning would result in us hitting her in the thigh, causing her enough pain that she collapses on our deck and we, horrified at the violence we committed, just sort of push on. Calibani would be wounded for at least the next chapter, perhaps longer, and significantly weaker (and probably harboring a great deal of hidden resentment while also being genuinely scared of Sailor). She would be vulnerable during the stork attack, forcing Sailor to take a more active role in that chapter.

Trying to steer around her would result in us essentially fighting her with our boat, resulting in the boat capsizing and Calibani getting tangled up in it. We'd wake up alone on Stork Island and have to travel in search of our boat, alone and vulnerable among man-eating trees. We'd run into Calibani again, also beached and in trouble, end up recruiting her to help us get our boat out of the sand.

Hiding below deck would end in a sea storm that leaves us inside our boat as it's beached on Stork Island. We'd fend off the storks alone, and run into Calibani once we get our boat out to sea, as she got away more or less unscathed.

All of these would have majorly changed the trajectory of our relationship with Calibani and our identity as Sailor, despite seeming to have the same component parts on the surface. Now account for how similarly slight changes in the other options could have gone, and we could have had a very different story indeed.

Part 8: Our Girl

I just think she's neat!

[softer-ua]

Nezu is way too suspicious.

His Quirk allows him to cause chain reactions, a fact explicitly stated by Midnight, who also made sure to remind us that he holds a grudge against humans. We don’t know the full extent of his abilities, but we do know that his foresight is extensive—so much so that he planned specific routes for Kaminari and Mina to take during a crisis. That suggests his influence is incredibly far-reaching.

And Midnight? The only UA staff member who isn’t around anymore. Suspicious.

Now, let’s talk about Nezu’s involvement in key events:

1. The USJ Attack

• He’s one of the few who knew about AM’s Quirk, its limitations, and how little time he had left.

• Nezu deliberately held up All Might, making him even later to the attack than he was already going to be.

• If Nezu wasn’t directly involved in setting up the attack, he at the very least played a role in ensuring AM wouldn’t be there in time to prevent it.

2. The Successor Plot

• Nezu was part of the selection process for AM’s successor, encouraging him to choose a UA student before Deku even entered the picture.

• He personally voted for Deku’s acceptance into the Hero Course.

• He knew Deku and Katsuki were from the same middle school, likely remembered them from the sludge incident(which was in the paper) and saw that they some of the highest scores in separate categories.

• Then, he placed them in the same class and observed their very complicated relationship firsthand.

3. The Sports Festival & Its Consequences

• He allowed Katsuki to be tied up on live in an event that replaced the Olympics in popularity.

• Which directly led to him gaining the League of Villains’ interest.

• At the same time, this put Katsuki on Jeanist’s radar—setting up a future mentor-student relationship.

• All of this put even more pressure on Katsuki, forcing him to prove himself.

4. The Training Camp

• Nezu was one of the very few people who knew the camp’s secret location

Possibly even picked the location

Was in charge of many pros would be there.

Was vastly easier to kidnap Katsuki in this setting rather than the other failed attempts

AM conveniently wasn’t present.

(Frankly I think these play a big role than one student leaking the location)

5. Katsuki’s rescue and AM’s Retirement

• led directly to AM refacing AFO instead of the LOV

He then burnt out the last embers of his power, forcing him to retire.

• This intensified Katsuki’s suspicions about AM and Deku, making him dig deeper into their relationship.

• The guilt lessened Katsuki’s performance during the Provisional License Exam, which he failed—leaving him out of the work studies.

6. The Ripple Effects on Katsuki & Deku

• Because Katsuki wasn’t eligible for work studies, he missed Deku’s battle with Chisaki.

• This fight also cemented Deku’s personal investment in Eri, and reinforced his need to break rules for the sake of others.

• Deku’s actions, in turn, saved UA’s reputation by overshadowing another potential scandal.

6. The Long-Term Setup

• Jeanist was taken out of commission during Katsuki’s rescue, freeing him up for later.

• Nezu actively discouraged his staff from searching for a traitor among them.

• He finally implemented the UA dorm system, something he had been advocating for but never acted on—until now.

• He reassured AM that if nothing suspicious happened after the students moved into the dorms, then there was nothing to worry about.

7. The Final Stage: The War Arc & Beyond

• By the time of the war, Katsuki had matured emotionally and was able to fight alongside Deku for the first time in a villain attack.

• He had also become even more deeply connected to Deku, setting the stage for their intertwined fates.

8. Nezu’s Endgame?

And here’s what fucks me up the most—Nezu easily agreed to let the students ambush Endeavor and hunt Deku down.

It was never even a question whether that was in his power, Uraraka knew it would be, so it’s just common knowledge? 🤨

But how does he have the power to do that, like imagine being one of the leaders heading off a fascist uprising and your sons hs principal demands you come in and you have to because you used to go to school there???

And then UA becomes the shelter during the war, but it doesn’t come as like government mandate, it’s Nezus choice something he does as a concerned and caring individual

In the end nearly everyone who rebuilds society is a UA alumni, and Deku, the face of the war, now works there!!

So society has an intense gratitude to UA for holding them during the war, an intense admiration for producing all these heros, and there’s apparently a rule/law(?) that you are beholden to your old principles meetings even when the worlds ending 💀

Nezu owns society and he planned it!!!

[rainboneish]

so, if Gege’s “three will die and one survives” statement holds true and no one comes back to life, both possible scenarios are compelling in their own way (megumi or yuji being the one to die)

on the one hand, Yuji dying would be a full circle moment; one of the first things established in the story (before everything went off the rails for the characters) was that this story would end with Yuji’s death after he had eaten all of the fingers. It would also fulfill his grandfather’s wish of him dying surrounded by people (also possibly not dying alone in the most absolute sense if he manages to get Sukuna back in him and they go down together)

Ending a story the way it was supposed to end (according to the characters) from the start but getting there in a different way than expected scratches an itch in my brain

if that happens however Megumi is the lone survivor, which would be absolute tragedy, considering how Megumi’s will to live (according to this latest chapter) hinges on being there for Yuji… losing Yuji would break the bit of him he has managed to claw back together from the bath…

on the other hand, Megumi dying and leaving Yuji as the sole survivor would be a cool subversion of the expectation originally set up at the beginning of the story (where, if everything went “right”, Yuji would have been the only casualty out of the main cast)

though Megumi dying after just getting the will to fight back and pulling himself out of the “bath” with Yuji’s support would make his loss even more painful, i do think Yuji is capable of “surviving” his loss and moving forward (one could also argue that Yuji’s purpose in the Jujutsu world would end with Sukuna’s death, but a major point of chapter 265 was to establish that Yuji has shaken the cog mentality and embraced living for living’s sake)

Yuji is a character who would have been trying to save people no matter what, even if he had never gotten involved with Jujutsu (see the interview about him becoming a firefighter otherwise), he has shaken the cog mentality, and while i believe he would mourn Megumi greatly (as well as everyone else he has lost in the past 24 hours and hasn’t had time to process, my poor boy T-T), i do think, if only one of them could live, him surviving would end the story on a more hopeful note than Megumi… which is not to say either is a better/worse writing choice

(i just spent way too many words on why i think both are compelling options)

either way, i need Gege to give me a scene of all of them being happy together in the airport/afterlife (can’t believe i’m asking this cat to give me a Supernatural style “last survivor dies of old age and goes to heaven where he is reunited with all of his loved ones)

unless of course, gege decided to say fuck that and let’s them both live, or let’s sukuna win WHO KNOWS, diabolical cat

[cumulo-stratus]

ANGST | spencer reid x gn!reader

0.9k

It was dark, practically 2 AM. A soft early spring breeze fluttered through the slightly ajar window. 

This soft breeze wafted through the smell of spring, but this did nothing calm Spencer's tossing and turning. 

The restless genius had been up since midnight, when he had arrived home from a  case. 

Ever since your absence, Spencer had been a wreck. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't focus because he couldn't sleep, and he felt enormously guilty. 

It had only been a couple weeks since a large fight ending in a break up had taken place, and both yours and Spencer's wounds were still fresh. 

Spencer knew it was his fault, and these thoughts consumed him as he lay draped in his linen sheets, comforter abandoned in the growing warmth. 

But the thing he needed most, that was now gone along with you, was your touch- your body. 

He could still feel the ghosts of your palms as your fingers linked with his, and the pattern of your hip as he would run his hand across it. 

He felt like he could still feel your breath on his neck as you lay on him. Spencer could remember every inch of you, and he dreamt of it, hoping you would come back.

He lay there knowing you wouldn't, he had fucked up- majorly. But he couldn't rid his mind of his thoughts of you.

They were all consuming, every moment his mind could spare he thought of you. Your laugh; your smile, your hands and their scars and freckles he'd memorized. 

All these thoughts from the past couple weeks mounted and grew, until eventually Spencer found himself scrolling through his contacts for your name, pacing the length of his bedroom. 

He didn't have to scroll far, as he didn't have many people on his phone. When the letters spelling your name illuminated his dark(er than usual) under eyes, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Even just seeing your name brought the tiniest bit of comfort, as well as a pang of guilt. 

When Spencer finally heard the quiet buzzing of his phone as it rung, he sucked in a breath.

His heart was beating, his shoulders were tensing as the anticipation mounted. But finally, after a minute or so of ringing, the line clicked.

Your voice came through groggy, as if you'd just woken up. Spencer knew you probably had, you wouldn't have picked up if you were aware who was calling. 

“Hello..?”

“Hey..”

Spencer heard your voice drop off when he spoke. 

“Spencer… why did you call me-” you were trying to sound angry, or stern, or anything but the lonely, heartbroken flutter that came out instead. 

Spencer could actively feel the crack form in his chest at this, his voice equally as shaky yet relieved when he spoke again. “I- I just missed you, I can't sleep, I can't focus, I can't do my job- I'm falling apart without you!”

The longing and passion grew with each passing word, tears brimming on his waterline.

Spencer stood there in the dark, soaking what he had just said. He couldn't see it, but if Spencer had been there he would've seen the tears that broke your waterline, rolling down your now wet cheeks. 

You longed for his touch, because if you were being honest with yourself (which weren't but for hypotheticals sake), you were falling apart too. 

But, here you were, each sat in your apartments, in the dark. The darkness felt like it was enclosing Spencer, clawing around him and grasping his chest so tight he found it hard to breath. 

After a long pause, Spencer took a breath and made a reckless decision. “I still remember you, the feeling of your hand in mine, the feeling of my palm on your cheek- I remember you, y/n.” 

Spencer's voice broke on the word you, revealing that he was now crying. 

You didn't know what to do, or what to say- your brain was in fight or flight. You chose flight. 

“You shouldn't have called Spencer.. goodnight.” 

And before Spencer could even think of a response, let alone even process what you had just said, the other line clicked with the sound of you hanging up. 

Spencer's phone fell from his palm as a sob racked his body. Spencer didn't even register the thump of the device falling to the carpet beneath him. 

Spencer had barely registered that he was now lying on his bed, clutching the sheets with an iron grip. The sobs that racked his body felt like they were grasping and clawing at his chest, closing up his throat. 

There were no tear tracks anymore, everywhere was a tear track. He had curled in on himself as far as possible trying to bring some warmth. He hoped the warmth would combat the suffocating darkness he was surrounded by. 

He wasn't sure when exactly he fell asleep, but soon he ran out of tears to cry- and his own sorrows surrounded him like a weighted blanket. 

Sleep was almost a comfort when Spencer's body couldn't cry anymore, just whimpers. 

That's how you both fell asleep, with no tears left to cry, encircled by your own mounds of sorrow. 

Taglist- @spencers1wifey | @mvndfvelds | @mindfullycriminal | @luce-reid |@ferrjulie | @khxna | @il0vebeingdelulu | @lover-of-books-and-tea | @jaden-reid | @eli-chris | @multifandomsimp69 | @starch1ldz | @shadoesx

join my taglist here