#the cut ins are SO FUN too like i love this take

[ancient-day]

The new p3re trailer thoughts have me neglecting work, but I cannot believe they included so many shots from that scene. Like if you know, you know, and idk about y’all but I’m

[sequinsmile-x]

Daybreak

Two early mornings that Aaron and Emily spend together.

-x-

Hi friends!

It's been a hot minute since I wrote some smut, so I thought it was time to do some! This all came from a very tiny little bit of dialogue that I thought of whilst driving to work one day this week.

As ever, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

When Aaron first wakes up, it takes a moment for him to realise he’s not in his bed. 

He smiles as he opens his eyes, overwhelmed by the presence of her. The smell of her pressed into the sheets covering him, her back against his chest, their legs tangled together, the warmth of her soft skin against his more than he could have ever imagined. Any fleeting thought that this could be a dream disappears, gone with the acknowledgement that his subconscious had never done her justice, that it had never lived up to the reality of being with her. 

Emily had been the one to ask him out. A huff escaping her lungs as she rolled her eyes at him, her hands tight in the lapels of his jacket after too close a call on a case, a smile spreading across her face, her dimples carved deep into her cheeks as their eyes met. 

“Are you ever going to take me on a date?” 

The ridiculous thing was, he’d been trying to. 

They’d been closer since she came back from Paris, spending almost all their spare time together ever since she’d agreed to tell him about her bad days. He’d known he was in love with her for a long time, for longer than he cared to admit, and he wasn’t an idiot. He knew she felt the same way, could see it in her eyes whenever she thought he wasn’t looking, in the way she would look after him and Jack. Joy and love and everything in between shining in her eyes when she would read Jack a bedtime story, none of the fear he’d seen when they’d sat opposite each other on the jet on the day that started to change things between them. 

He wanted to ask her out but would choke on it every time. The invite stuck in his throat as he worried maybe he was imagining things, letting himself see things that weren’t there because he wanted to be with her so much. The relief he’d felt when she asked was palpable, washing over him as he nodded in response, something that made her smile impossibly wider and more beautiful. 

The date had been perfect. Dinner and wine in a restaurant she’d recommended. Conversation had been easy, none of the nerves that both of them were feeling showing themselves until he walked her to her front door. She’d smiled at him, her hand wrapped around the tie she’d made fun of him for wearing as she tugged him into a kiss and then into her apartment. They’d spent hours exploring each other, learning peaks and valleys they’d imagined for years, before eventually falling asleep tangled together. 

He trails his hand up and down her back, her skin impossibly soft against his. He draws patterns over her shoulders, unable to stop himself from smiling as she grumbles, shifting against him as she arches her back before she turns to look at him.

“Should have known you’d be allergic to lay-ins,” she says, blinking sleepily at him, her smile contradicting the grumpiness in her tone. She leans up to kiss him, her lips soft against his as he pulls her closer.  

It would be lying to say she’d never imagined this. That she’d never let her mind wander and think about what it would be like to be with him, to wake up pressed up against him, to fall apart as she was aware of nothing but him. At first, she thought it was because he was unavailable. Married and seemingly unable to be in the same room as her, something close to irritation in his eyes every time he looked at her. It was inappropriate, but she’d always had a thing for inappropriate men. Nothing she tried had scratched the itch. Her own fingers and toys and other men never enough to come close to what she wanted from him. What she knew she would get from him. 

It was only when he was almost killed by Foyet, their relationship something closer to friendship by that point, that she realised it was because she was in love with him. It felt ridiculous. Stereotypical. And after she left him at the hospital, the last to leave after Haley and Jack had gone into hiding, she’d gone home and cried - so sure that she’d never get a ch

Things kept getting in their way. Including them. Both of them so damaged, so fractured by what they’d been through that it left them unsure. Gun shy in a way that was out of character, making them lose even more time that made her furious now they were on the other side of it. Now that she knew what it was like to be with him. 

Any irritation is temporary, a flash of a thing that is lost as she melts into his arms, sighing into the kiss as she chases his touch, his palm landing on the small of her back as he pulls her closer. She moves close enough to share his pillow, their chests pressed together as the kiss eventually comes to an end, her forehead pressed against his as she heaves in a breath.  

“Morning,” he mumbles, smiling when she rubs her nose against his, the rumble of his voice making her stomach flip.

“Morning,” she replies, kissing him again, humming into it, “What time do you have to get home to Jack?”

“I don’t have to,” he says simply, smiling when she frowns at him, confusion knitting her brows together. He chuckles and kisses the tip of her nose, and then the space between her brows, “Jack is with Haley’s dad this weekend,” he kisses her cheek, “So I don’t have to be home until tomorrow evening.” 

She smiles, hope and want sparking in her gut as she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, “So…”

He grins as she trails off, pulling her closer and pressing his lips against hers as she hooks a leg over his waist, her hand tangled in his hair. His hand shifts from her lower back and hooks around her thigh as he moves them, trapping her between him and the mattress, “I’m yours all weekend,” he says, his hand drifting to her waist, “If you want me.” 

She chuckles, the question itself ridiculous as she rocks her hips against his, tasting the groan he lets out, pressed against her lips as she wraps her leg around his back.

“I could take you or leave you,” she jokes, nipping at his lower lip, “You might have to prove you’d be useful if you stayed though-” he moves so quickly that she squeals, a sound she’d later deny, lost to laughter as he hovers over her, his hands on either side of her head, his grin wide, “What are you doing?” 

He kisses her, fierce and overpowering as he licks through her mouth, letting her settle into it for only a second before he pulls away, stealing away her breath as he dares to wink at her, “Proving my usefulness.” 

He kisses her once before he starts his journey downward, his lips, teeth and tongue working in tandem to draw noises from her he’d only heard the night before for the first time. A new addiction of his, something he knew he wanted to hear as often as possible for the rest of his life. He pauses to lick over the hickey he’d left on her left breast next to Doyle’s brand, his claim over her new and fresh, blooming and beautiful against her pale skin. He soothes the mark with his tongue, smiling against her skin as she moans, arching her back as she presses her chest closer to him. 

“Aaron.” 

“I’ll never get enough of this,” he mutters, shifting downwards again, kissing the scar that bloomed under her ribcage. Raised, silver skin that showed where she’d been torn apart and put back together. She was nervous about his reaction to it last night. He’d seen the uncertainty in her hands, how they paused for the first time as she pulled her dress up over hips, her fingers twitching as her brain caught up with the rest of her. He’d taken over, told her every inch of her was beautiful and he’d kissed her until she believed him, “Never get enough of you.” 

She chuckles breathlessly as she rests her head back on her pillow, her eyes drifting closed as he kisses her pubic bone. She hadn’t expected him to be so talkative. He was reflective usually. Quiet. Everything he said throughout and purposeful but this was different. A stream of consciousness that never stopped, praise and something close to love pressed against her skin as he learnt everything about her, about what brought her over the edge. 

He pushes her thighs apart, smiling as he presses his thumbs into bruises he’d left there, flashes of how he’d gripped her skin the night before making him groan, his hips pressed against the bed, “You’re fucking gorgeous.” 

She tenses, her breath caught in her chest as she waits for him to move, waits for him to do something. But he stops, teasing touches to her thighs, so close to where she wants him but so far. She groans in frustration and sits up just slightly, her elbows on the mattress as she looks at him. 

“Aaron, I swear to God-” Her threat is cut off as he licks through her, his tongue insistent on her clit as he pushes two fingers inside of her, “Fuck.” 

He smiles against her, turns his head to nip at her thigh before he buries his face in her again, his tongue and fingers working together in tandem to take her apart, words she can’t hear but can feel instead, slowly bringing her towards the edge. She hooks her leg around his back, her heel digging into his shoulder as she rolls her hips against his face, her thighs getting tighter around his head. 

“I’m so close,” she mutters, her hips stuttering, her cheeks warm as she grips the sheet beneath her, wondering how he has her this close already after only one night together, “Fuck I’m close.” 

“I know, baby,” he says, pulling back just enough to speak, “I can feel how tight you’re getting around my fingers,” he curls them inside of her, hitting just the right spot, and a noise she could only describe as guttural escapes her, “Come for me.” 

She screams his name, not thinking about her neighbours, or the fact it was still so early, the morning light only just filtering in through her curtains. He doesn’t stop even as she shudders against her. Instead, he carries on, gentle touches of his tongue and fingers as he drags her orgasm out. She eventually chuckles, her thighs twitching on either side of his head. She moves her foot just enough to kick at his shoulder. 

“Jesus, fuck,” she laughs breathlessly, “okay,” she breathes out, laughing as she shakes her head, “Very useful,” she smiles widely at him, her lips pressed together as she forces herself to stop herself from saying the three words it felt far too early to say, settling instead on three others, “You can stay.” 

He climbs back up her, burying his face in her neck, the smell of herself pressed against her skin, “Oh sweetheart,” he drawls, kissing his way up her neck, “We have two whole days,” he kisses her, “I’m only just getting started.” 

___

She wakes up slowly, a rarity in her life these days - slow, sleepy mornings a thing of the past. 

She groans as she stretches, blinking against the low light in the room, the first signs of a new day pushing themselves through the gaps in the curtains. She sighs when she checks the time on the clock on her nightstand. 

5.30 am. 

Emily flops onto her back and huffs, aware that no matter how tired she is she won’t fall back asleep. Early mornings were hardwired into her now, a part of her routine even on her days off. Brought on by her sons and her husband, and their apparent genetic inability to sleep much past dawn. She looks at the baby monitor on her nightstand and smiles softly at the sight of Oscar still fast asleep, the 6-month-old happy and content for now - something she knew wouldn’t last long. 

The house was quiet for once. Jack was away with Roy and Jessica for the weekend, and Elliot was worn out from spending the day before with the team. He’d fought sleep every second until he finally succumbed to it, the 3-year-old’s face pressed against Emily’s neck as she paced his bedroom with him in her arms, his favourite place to sleep since he’d been a newborn, her lips against his temple as she sang him to sleep. 

He’d be awake soon. His tiny feet thundering against the hardwood floor of the hallway, inevitably waking up his little brother as he ran past his nursery and into Emily and Aaron’s bedroom. He loved snuggling in the big bed, and would often sleep in it too. She knew she shouldn’t encourage it, but one day that would come far too soon for her liking this time of her life would be gone. The boys would grow up and suddenly be too cool for their parents and as excited as she was to see who they were becoming, she wanted it like this for as long as possible. 

She may miss her lay-ins, the lazy weekend starts that had always been rare anyway, but she wouldn’t trade them for anything. 

She turns to look at Aaron and smiles. He was still asleep, lying on his back with one hand next to his head and the other on his chest. She smiles and shifts towards him, pressing herself against his warm body, her face buried in his neck as she breathes him in. He smells like home. The remnants of his cologne still hanging on from the day before, mixed in with sleep and him and something she can never name. 

He moans sleepily, the arm that had been near his head shifting, wrapping around her as he pulls her into him, “Morning.” 

“Morning,” she replies, kissing the juncture of his throat and he pulls her closer, his fingers skimming the hem of her pyjama shorts, drawing idle patterns just under the curve of her ass. She smirks against his skin, nipping lightly at his pulse. She feels the rumble of his laugh more than she hears it, his happiness passing from his chest to hers. 

“What’s got into you?” He asks, his voice delightfully rough, his throat thick with sleep and misuse. 

She hums, pulling her face away from his neck as she looks up at him, her hand on his cheek as she drags him in for a kiss, “Hopefully you.” 

He laughs again, the taste of it against her lips as she kisses him again, her leg hooking over his waist. His hand travels up from her thigh, squeezing her ass as it passes, before sneaking under her shirt. The press of his palm is warm on her back, his hand almost wide enough to span the back of it, his fingers ghosting both sides of her waist, chasing the shiver he creates as he makes them chest to chest. 

“Oscar is asleep,” she says, glancing back at the baby monitor on her nightstand, smiling at the video feed of her son still fast asleep in his crib, one of his tiny hands above his head and the other on his chest just like Aaron’s had been just before he woke up. She turns back to her husband and tugs him towards her so she ends up partially underneath him, “We don’t have a toddler in our bed,” she kisses him, his smile pressed against her lips as he sneaks a hand under her, his palm pressing against her lower back, “And Jack is on his annual camping trip with Roy,” she sinks her teeth into his lower lip for a second, soothing the slight sting with a kiss, “This is a rare opportunity.” 

He hums and rests more of his weight on her, the hard length of him pressing against the juncture of her thighs. He smiles when she groans, taking a moment to roll his hips, to taste the sigh that escapes her lips. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, grasping her thigh, hiking it higher around his hip, “You don’t ever have to convince me to have sex with you,” he kisses her throat, the beat of her pulse against his lips an addiction he knew he’d never be rid of, “If you ever find yourself having to, kill me - I’m already dead.” 

She laughs, the sound swallowed by his lips against hers. She rakes her fingers through his hair, blunt scratching against his scalp in a way that never failed to make him moan. She pulls away from the kiss, her forehead against his, “We need to hurry, you know what Eli is like.” 

He smirks, a glint in his eyes that he only ever got when they were doing this. A part of him that was just hers, something she never took for granted. 

“Well it’s good you wore these cute little shorts to bed then isn’t it,” he says, trailing his fingers over the hem again, smiling when her thighs twitch when he passes over the slick of her as he pushes the shorts aside, “Easy access.”

She hums, pushing his sweatpants down with her foot just enough to let him spring free, her laugh catching in her throat when he notches against her, “Why do you think I wore them?” 

He groans as he pushes forward, his forehead resting against hers. The warm, tight heat of her always enough to make him moan, the punched-out noise muffled against her collarbone as he stops when he’s fully seated inside of her. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing everywhere he can reach, thrusting against her when she clenches around him. 

“You too,” she replies, grasping for purchase at the back of his t-shirt, her nails scratching at the soft material as she rolls her hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move, “You feel so good.” 

When their new life settled down around them, when the roaring fire of their relationship settled from the exciting newness into something calmer, a flickering flame that always remained in the background, she worried about it. She loved him, their life together, but as they moved from boyfriend and girlfriend, to being engaged, to getting married, to having more children, she worried this part of their life would change. That they wouldn’t have time for each other. 

Things had changed, but not in the way she’d feared. Their endless need for each other hadn’t faded, it had just adapted with them as their life did. The days of laying next to each other naked all day, only stopping to eat in between rounds to get their energy up, were behind them. But somehow this, slow, lazy, morning sex with her husband had become her favourite. A moment in time when they could just be Emily and Aaron, not Mom and Dad or Agent Prentiss and Agent Hotchner. Just two married people in love with each other, and showing it in the most basic of ways. 

“It’s like you were made for me,” he says, kissing up her throat to capture her lips, “Fucking made for me.” 

“Made for you,” she replies, her breath skipping over his face, her hips stuttering as she gets closer to the edge. She doesn’t have to say it, doesn’t have to tell him that she’s close. He reaches between them and draws circles over her clit, slow and purposeful as he draws her closer to orgasm, “Aaron…” 

“Come for me, baby,” he says, the strain in his voice clear, “Let me feel it.”

She tips over the edge and drags him with her, the hot pulse of him inside of her makes her groan, something he swallows with a kiss, his hand on her cheek as he holds her in place. He smiles when he pulls back from the kiss, his love for her written all over his face.

“Happy ‘first date’ Anniversary, Em.” 

Her smile widens and she pushes his hair from his forehead, smiling at the salt and pepper flashes she can see shining in amongst the dark brown, “You remembered.”

He stamps his lips against hers, “I remember everything about you.” 

She holds him in place, her leg still hooked around his hip, her lips insistent on his, “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” he replies, cut off as they hear a cry from down the hall. They both look at the baby monitor and see Oscar wide awake, tears streaming down his face as he demands attention, “Duty calls,” Aaron says, kissing her one last time before he climbs off of her, pulling his sweatpants back up as he goes, “I’ll go get him.” 

She nods and watches him go, stretching as she stands up, grimacing as she feels the mix of them drip down her thigh. She smiles to herself as she walks to the bathroom, the sound of a door opening and Elliot’s excited voice as he spots his father travelling down the hall. She gets in the shower and makes quick work of cleaning herself up, wanting nothing more than to go downstairs to join her family and start another day in the life she never thought she’d have.

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess , @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentisstheorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[jadewritesficshere]

Okay, but imagine Robin who hangs out at the diner on weekends because the senior citizens go there and are fun to hang out with. She knows all the ins and outs of who is who in Hawkins thanks to Janice. Gladys has shown her how to knit, which the first thing she made was a very off-putting and weirdly shaped sweater she gave to Steve (Steve absolutely wore it even if it is not correct. Anytime anyone mentions it he just goes "its called fashion"). Charles has lamented about how the outfits the kids wear and their attitudes ("All these bright colors and for what? To be a dick? Might as well have put a big flashing sign that says "I'm a prick"").

One day, there is a new guy at the diner. Robin doesn't catch his name but he seems nice (and younger then the majority of the crowd). Robin is telling them about Steve's failed attempts at flirting, when the new guy chuckles and cuts her off mid sentence. "Almost as bad as my kid...God love him," He smiles and looks at the ceiling before taking a sip of coffee. Robin would feel frazzled getting interrupted if the guy didn't go on to tell the most hilarious story she ever heard. The poor kid was apparently so flustered trying to flirt he had actually tripped and spilled his drink on himself; somehow, the story ended with the kid looking like a sewer rat with twigs in his hair and a bloody nose, but an award winning smile cause he got a number.

Robin immediately wants to meet the kid who is "around your age". He seems sweet and funny, at least this man is so surely the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Janice is the one to suggest Robin meets the nephew and brings Steve along ("That poor boy needs more friends his age, always cartin' those kids around" "If he ever wants an older friend you tell him to-""Rhonda! He could be your grandchild!""I have eyes Janice, just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't see""You're legally blind."). Robin earnestly agrees. As they leave, Robin makes plans with the man, making sure the others can't hear so they don't show up. Robin makes plans for Tuesday at 4.

Except on Tuesday she gets sick. She's laying on the couch pathetically, lamenting about how she never gets sick. Steve is like "oh nooooo guess we have to cancel" with a shrug, cause he could not care less (he had wanted to spend a relaxing night off). Robin convinces him to go. Cue Steve meeting Eddie at a diner, essentially a blind date. Steve shows back up at the apartment him and Robin share and is smitten. Starts telling Robin all about the date not date. Eddie goes home to Wayne, gives him a grumpy look (he didn't want to go out to some "stupid" hangout), then goes to his room. Wayne could hear his squeal of delight and then hear Eddie talking to himself about the prettiest guy he's seen. Wayne just sips his coffee and goes back to reading the paper.

[stuckinapril]

don’t know if you’ve already shared (or if you wouldn’t like to) but i’d love to hear about your resolutions and goals for this year!

Hi so sorry for how late this is!! I have quite a few!

Ins —

Being more decisive. Trusting myself w calling the shots. Just making a decision and sticking w it.

Financial literacy

More reading. Just more.

Attacking things I’m uncomfortable with instead of shying away from them.

More silence. I don’t need to have my earphones in all the time

More time w family!!! I need to put in as much effort to connect w them as I do w my friends

Green tea every night

More pictures. I have a serious problem of just not being incentivized to take any

More scientific literature for fun!!

Piggybacking off that point—making it instinctive to apply things I study to real life situations. This is a niche one but it just helps me process stuff faster and I just think it’s a super dope learning technique

Pushing myself harder. It’s just not my preference to be mediocre.

Nourishing myself w my own affirmations. Cutting out my need for other people’s validation

Educational documentaries

Making more of an effort to connect w my Arab heritage

Being my natural self. It’s okay if I’m not bubbly all the time. Sometimes I just want to chill

Whole foods

Less phone time (I say this every year but like I want 2024 to be the year I’m truly disconnected/using my phone in a healthy way)

Body oils!

More tennis dates w friends!

10k steps a day

Sticking religiously to my hour by hour schedule

Keeping promises to myself as ardently as I keep promises to others

Being more bold w fashion!!

Hitting the gym 5 days a week

Reading more literature in Arabic and French

Learning how to cook. I cannot live off Siggi’s for the rest of my life lol

Exploring more music genres

Learning the piano!!

No longer feeling guilty for withholding information. Privacy is not a bad thing.

Getting more and more independent!!

Becoming the friend I want to be. Other people need to show up as well, but I can’t hold people up to standards I myself can’t reach.

Outs —

Centralizing luxury brands. Thinking that price equates to quality. The fact of the matter is quality equates to quality. Price is irrelevant.

Relying on snap judgment responses to situations. I need to learn to wait at least 15 minutes. I can be impulsive asf

Jumpiness. Nervous energy. I just want to be more calm and controlled in how I carry myself. I want to exude self-assuredness

Checking my phone first thing in the morning!!

Drinking less than 3 liters of water a day

Being available all the fucking time. If someone has an issue w me for being busy, maybe they’re not someone I want in my life in the first place.

Being too forgiving. Not immediately allowing someone back into my life doesn’t make me a bitch. Immediately running to fix things w someone doesn’t make me selfless. Being the bigger person in situations where I was nowhere near in the wrong doesn’t make me mature. It’s just symptomatic of a lack of boundaries.

Consuming dumb shit in the name of “keeping up w pop culture.” I don’t care about celebrity controversy #7282727. I don’t care about celebrity selfie #827226. It doesn’t elevate my life in any way. I legit just don’t care. And this goes for real life gossip w friends too

Taking too long to text back!! A day is fine, but sometimes I take longer and I think that’s a shitty trait to have. I can absolutely afford to respond to people faster.

Too much chocolate!! I’m a sweet tooth but I must preserve my skin/overall health

Motivation over discipline. I need to be attuned to discipline always.

Control freak antics. I can’t control people. It’s not my responsibility. They’ll act how they act. All I can do is control my reaction to it

Rumination/unhealthy venting. When I’m done w something, I’m done w something.

Overcompensating for other people’s shortcomings. It’s not my responsibility to coddle others. It’s okay if something is too much for me.

Having no boundaries w others. People aren’t entitled to private information. It doesn’t make me deceptive to withhold things—it just makes me selective. People need to earn private details about me.

Curating things I like. I simply like what I like. It’s not that deep.

[chikaras-garden]

Harder (brat tamer!Oikawa x fem!reader)

You think flirting is fun. Oikawa shows you what real fun looks like.

Pairing: Oikawa x fem!reader

Words: 1.8k

Contains: jealous!Oikawa, possessive!Oikawa, brat tamer!Oikawa, brat!sub!reader, spanking, degradation, implied breathplay, dacryphilia, consent checks/check ins, O calls R “angel,” but also “bitch” and “whore”

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Requested by anon.

You bat your eyelashes at the handsome man towering above you. He’s a tall, dark, and handsome type: broad in the shoulders, bulky in build—nothing at all like your boyfriend, who stands on the other side of the hotel ballroom from you.

A set of eyes watches you as if you’re prey. The gaze sears, burning into the side of your face while you toss a bashful grin in this man’s direction, dancing your fingers across the bar’s lacquered surface. He moves to take your hand, but you quickly waltz your fingers out of reach, instead wrapping them around the expensive cocktail he just bought you.

A hand falls atop your waist. Fingers press hard against your flesh, yanking you backwards into a waiting pelvis, along with a hard, familiar cock to match.

“She’ll be going now,” your boyfriend’s voice tuts. He doesn’t await a response, just spins you on your heel and drags you out of the ballroom with him.

Like a tsunami, Tooru creates a path for himself, and all else bends to his whim, lest they feel his wrath.

“I didn’t finish my drink,” you pout, struggling to keep up with his purposeful strides through the hotel’s winding hallways. “Tooru, wait a second—”

He stops so quickly that you stubble straight into his back. Two bursts of his laugh bellow through the air before they’re cut short, stopped dead by your boyfriend’s icy gaze meeting yours.

“You don’t need your drink where you’re going, angel,” he tuts. “Much less a drink another man bought you.”

It takes all your effort not to grin. Seeing Tooru so riled-up, you know that your plan went even better than you’d hoped. You’re in for it now, and that’s exactly what you wanted. But, you just have to play your part a little longer, so you wind your arms around his waist, pouting up at him. “I want to go back to the party, Tooru. I was having fun.”

He rolls his eyes. “No, you’ve had enough fun for today. I’m taking you to bed.”

You pretend to pout while he leads you by the hand back to your hotel room. Already, you can imagine exactly how much fun awaits you behind a closed door.

Tooru crowds you into the hotel room as soon as you cross the threshold. It’s not that big, but it’s certainly comfortable, with bright cotton linens and warm, gold-toned lighting. He steps quickly, dancing you backwards until your knees hit the mattress and you’re forced to sit.

He leans over you and grabs your face with both hands before kissing you with a greedy, open mouth. His tongue finds yours in an instant; you and he both taste alcohol, and you sense that Tooru teeters on the edge of control. You’d give anything to make him lose it, to make him let everything go for you.

You grab his hands and try to pull them away so you can bring them down atop your chest, but the second that you try to take what you want, he pulls away.

You pout at him, pawing at the hands that refuse to touch you. “Take it out on me,” you whine. “Make me—”

“Wait.” The realization hits him like a slap in the face. “You did that on purpose? You little minx.”

His words sear down your spine, straight to your core. You feel yourself spasm, clenching around nothing at all, aching with the carnal need to be claimed.

Tooru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, looking lost in the pretty shade of red you colored them tonight. “You know that you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Of course, Tooru,” you plead. “‘M yours, all yours.”

“Oh, isn’t that too bad?” As he coos at you, he gives you a loving look, cupping your cheek with delicate fingers. But as you look into his eyes, you don’t see love: You see the fire, passion, and jealousy of a man who just had his most beloved thing taken away.

“I don’t believe you, angel.”

He takes slow steps around the hotel room. You watch him, entranced, as he sheds his suit jacket, dropping it carelessly on the desk chair. “You’ve been very bad, you know.

“My dearest, most precious angel,” he hums, loosening his tie, “seems to have lost her way.”

Your hands shake with anticipation, but you don’t dare move while you’re locked in his gaze. You whisper a plea, “Show me.”

With a soft, thoughtful noise, Tooru places one knee on the bed behind you, and then the other. Silently, he reaches for your dress, unzipping it with one hand. His other hand reaches for your neck, long fingers wrapping around your throat, but never placing any pressure. It’s a warning, a mark. Like a collar, he’s claiming you as his and threatening what might happen if you pull too hard on your lead.

You close your eyes. Already, this is bliss.

“Lift your arms,” he murmurs. As you do, he slides your dress up and off of you, then adds, “If I hurt you—”

“You won’t.”

You feel him shake his head, but otherwise, he’s perfectly still. “If I do, this stops. I promise.”

He’ll never take no for an answer; you know that. No matter what he does to you in bed, he’ll always be your safety net, the steady hand that doles out punishment, rewards, pain, and pleasure equally.

“Okay,” you whisper. For that, you get a soft smile and a kiss on your neck.

“Now, since my angel wants me to treat her like a whore,” he sighs, acting as if you asked him to do the dishes, “I suppose that’s what she’s going to get.”

He grabs you by the upper arm and tugs. When you move to climb into his lap, he twists. It makes you whine in pain, but it also gets the message across: He wants you face-first over his lap.

After your cheek settles on the comforter, Tooru runs a hand from your shoulder to your hip. Along the way, he unclasps your bra and tosses it to the floor, then starts rubbing your ass through your thin, lacy panties. “I shouldn’t be rewarding you for this.”

Quickly and all-too-softly for your liking, he lands a fingers-only smack to one round globe of your ass. “How many do you deserve?”

“Twenty,” you answer without hesitation.

“Hm? Why?”

You giggle into the plush comforter, lovingly gripping your boyfriend’s thigh. “The drink he bought me was 2000 Yen.”

At that, he laughs. Clearly, you conned that man out of his hard-earned money, and Tooru feels a little proud of that. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you finish it.”

He swats at the opposite cheek. As the sensation jolts through your nerves, you settle into Tooru’s lap with a dreamy hum. You’re feeling your mind slip away from you—just how you like it—so you can float comfortably in the fog of submission.

His first few swats warm you up—literally. Your ass grows redder and redder, soft skin heating and swelling under his palm.

“That was six,” he reminds you.

Then, a searing slap descends upon you. You instinctively gasp and shudder forward, but Tooru catches you on an outstretched forearm. Desperately, you cling to him. He guides you backwards, but only gives you a second to catch your breath before he slaps you again.

His thighs are tense underneath you, and the veins in his arm strain underneath his skin. Deliriously, you hyperfixate on how his strength makes him utterly beautiful to you. You love that he’s using all his force on you, his setter’s hands, his perfect calculations of speed and force.

By the time he bends to kiss the top of your head, whispering, “Halfway done, my little whore,” tears are stinging your eyes. You bite down on your lip to trap a moan in your throat, but you can’t stop the tears that burst forth at his next spank.

Your ass feels raw. The telltale haziness of subspace is creeping into your mind, eclipsing your thoughts so fully that you actually have to concentrate on your breathing. After a few more slaps, you’re fisting the comforter, pulling the fabric into a haphazard heap in front of you. Instinctively, you bury your face in it; the soft linen is cool against your cheek, but only because you’re blushing furiously and hot tears are streaming down your face.

Then, there’s a fist in your hair, and Tooru’s tugging your face out of the comforter. “You stopped counting,” he coos. “Something wrong?”

“N-No,” you stutter, sniffling. You wish you could wipe your tears, but there’s a dizzy feeling in your ears, one that tells you that you’ll fall over if you let go of the sheets.

Tooru’s hand comes to your cheek, cups your sticky skin, and turns you to face him. He appraises you, thumbs wiping at your cheeks, and bends to kiss the top of your head.

“Seventeen,” he reminds you quietly. “Can you count the last three for me?”

You nod. His lips curl into a grin, and he places another kiss on your forehead before guiding your head back to the comforter, this time making sure your nose is facing out, not down, so you can breathe more comfortably.

True to your word, you breathe a faint “eighteen” when the next spank lands on your ass. At this point, you honestly can’t feel the pain at all; the throbbing ache of your skin, red marks in the shape of Tooru’s fingers, is too persistent to recognize any one slap.

“Nineteen,” you sniffle, lurching forward on your elbows when he puts a particularly brutal amount of force into this one. “T-Tooru—”

“Ah,” he cuts you off, rubbing your backside, caressing the reddened skin that he’s about to spank one last time. “Just numbers, please.”

And then, without hesitation, he delivers the final slap. You just manage to gasp the word “twenty” before your throat closes around a sob; but, before you can let it out, before you can bury your face in your hands, Tooru pulls you upright and sits you on your knees, straddling his lap so your aching backside doesn’t touch his thighs.

“There’s my angel,” he murmurs as he presses you against his chest, big hand cupping the back of your head to guide you to rest on his shoulder. “You did such a good job, didn’t you? Do you know how proud of you I am?”

You nod absentmindedly, feeling like his voice is swimming in your brain. It takes you a minute to register what he’s saying, to let his words sink in and wash over you like a soothing balm. Then, he tilts your head up using two fingers, making you look at him.

“Get on all fours for me, angel,” he coos, rubbing his thumbs into your cheeks. “Let’s give your pretty behind a break while I fuck you, hm?”

[talaofthevalley]

if it hasn't been asked already. revolver for the ask game? your postings are fun to read

smacks my desk MY BOY, THANK YOU FOR GIVING HIM TO ME. also thank you that's so sweet of you to say

Why I like them/why I don’t Where do I even start-

He's one of the most honourable characters in the whole franchise. He's ridiculously composed, that the few times he's rattled you know it's significant. He's carrying the sins of his father like they're his own, even though he was eight when the incident happened. But it's like he understands he's the only one who can carry that burden and deliver closure to the ones affected because he wasn't one of the perpetrators, but was still involved and wrapped up in it all.

But he's also a dork who strikes poses during duels. His deck consists of gun and bullet dragons. He's so extra and camp in the best way and is never not taken as a very serious threat. He's one of the strongest duelists in the show. He doesn't consider himself a victim of anything. He was willing to die at the end of S1. He regularly finds the villain of the arc/his enemies first and almost murks them. He's connected to flower and ocean imagery. He gave one of the most beautiful description about loved ones who has passed away I've ever heard. He cares So Much but isn't the best at showing it, yet can help in just the way others need. He hates himself so damn much. But does not let that get in the way of what he believes needs to be done. But he's not completely close-minded either.

Ryoken's just such an amasing character. I love him so much.

What I like about their appearance Everything Since I did the same for Aoi I'll do both his real world and LV designs.

Ryoken: Gorg. Beautiful beautiful boy. I love the soft tones used for his eyes and the blue in his hair. The feathery side bangs are so pretty. And I'm so weak for white hair. I'm not above to admitting I'm not fond of his outfit, but that's just because it's very far from my taste in clothes. I don't think it's as bad as people claim it is though. Love his pink shirt, and that his colour scheme overall in the real world is very soft-toned and almost pastel in contrast to the bolder colours used in his avatar. And of course the eyes, and the eyelashes. My god he is so pretty.

Revolver S1: I like this design! I do think it's usurped by his second avatar, but they share a majority of the same elements and design points, so I'll cover those in the next part. I think his mask is pretty cool ngl, and it's Very yummy to chew on for analysis. The red hair with lighter shades running up the sides looks great as well.

Revolver S2-3: I do think this is just, an absolutely banging design. The way it's separated into parts through use of colours and lines. Love the long gloves, and the coat is so cool, it really adds to his presence. The second avatar did a good I think by adding these cut-ins at the hips to give it more definition and volume.

The new hair colour is really good too, adds another change besides the mask showing more of his face to show his growth from the last time we saw him. Like a visual sign he's mellowed out after the breakdown he had in the S1 finale. Especially love the grey-violet eye colour they gave him, it's really nice. And that visor.... I know it's a crime they hide half of his beautiful face, but it's also so exciting to catch glimpses of his fringe under it. And it does look cool, I can't lie.

And of course I have to point out the bullet earrings. Top tier design. Just immaculate. It's so distinct and memorable. It even got made into official merch. Just iconic.

Do I prefer their dub names or original names? His name only gets a letter hacked off in the dub, thankfully, but I cannot take Varis seriously. It's a bit silly, but also in my first language it's spelled and sounds very close to a word for something less than pleasant =_=

OTP Datastormshipping my beloved, datastorm my everything. I can say so much about them but it would make this post even longer.

NOTP Datastorm is such an otp to me that I don't romantically ship either Ryoken or Yusaku with any other character. I don't think anything comes close to NOTP status for me with Ryoken though.

OT3 But I can accept Ai into the mix, since I see him and Yusaku as very queerplatonic.

Favourite card they use Am I basic if I say Borreload Dragon. I love that giant gun boy so much. The colour scheme is very nice, especially with the contrasting teal wings.

But also. Mirror Force is so iconic. It is SO FUNNY they had Revolver use Mirror Force and built it up so much. And for Link monsters it technically is! They can't be put in defense position! How effective it is makes it even funnier. You know he was having a blast blindsiding people with all these old trap cards.

Favourite moment they were in I can't pick one oh god-

Okay but, seriously I can't pick just one. He has so many good moments over the course of the show. All the duels against Yusaku. The first irl conversation he has with Yusaku. First time using Storm Access. Crashing the Ignis reunion party and curbstomping Windy into putty. The due against Lightning. The AFTERMATH of the duel against Lightning. Both duels against Takeru. The final scene between Ryoken and Yusaku. Yeah no I can't pick one. And a lot of his best moments are built from past scenes and the development he's had across the show.

Least favourite moment None, my perfect boy has done nothing wrong in his whole life- /j

[gabessquishytum]

New prompt for a pervy Black Widow/Sugar Daddy AU - it's long sorry!:

THE SETUP -- Dream's family is broke and each sibling is tasked with (bullied into) trying to entice the new rich bastards on the block to marry them, without a prenup. Now, maybe the professed plan is a black widow end - 'cause the Endless family is sooooo less than honorable (and let's be honest, great, great, great Grandma Endless's 2nd husband only had his money and his short life to recommend him), but the plan is fluid. First, one of the children needs to snare the right mark.

They don't talk about why Destruction won't return his parents calls - like he's so much better than the rest of the family.

Sufficed to say Desire and Dream are seen as the ones with the best shot. So every rich dick (figurative & literal) party they can go to, every society invite they can wrangle, they dress Desire and Dream up in the newest sexy couture they can borrow based on the Endless name and the fashion worthiness of Dream and Desire; and as they get more desperate, the outfits get more sheer -- tits outs and hints of trimmed pubic hair on show. See, the recent Mugler RTW Spring 2024 (soooo many sheer outfits!).

THE SITUATION ON THE GROUND -- Dream has been on the block too f'ing long. Desire seems to be enjoying it, or at least the part where they are competing against Dream for the "win," but all of these men (/very rarely women) are absolutely gross. Handsy and odious and just evil, why, even for just as long as it might take to separate any of these people from their money, Dream would want them to touch him - he can't fathom. And unfortunately, the biggest interested mark so far is Burgess - and Dream thinks he literally, openly, traffics people and starts wars for "fun."

THE [NEW] MARK -- Enter Hob Gadling. Now, no one is really clear where Hob's reported billions have come from. They just know it's "clean" money now, and Mr. Gadling appears to be a respectable tech/finance guy, now. There are rumors that, 'Please, call me Hob', Gadling, is not a nice man and that people who go against him wind up suspiciously broken (many times in bloody pieces, not just broke), but well he's mostly charming.

_______

Dream doesn't want to like Hob, again Dream knows all these people are just the worst (and let's be honest, the "plan" still involves a convenient honeymoon accident), but they keep running into each other, and Hob is hilariously vicious in his quiet comments to Dream, and Dream can feel the heat in Hob's stare as Dream's "dresses" get shorter, and sheerer, and really, at this point, Dream is walking around these parties mostly naked (with nipples that Hob's stares make so hard). Dream doesn't even want to discuss what happened when Hob put his hand on Dream's lower back to guide him through the party. *shivers*

Dream allows Hob a kiss after a particularly cutting remark about Burgess that has the whole party laughing; Hob takes the next few kisses that night; smudging all of Dream's make up and walking away visibly, shamelessly, hard. Dream's own full body flush can be seen under his sheer dress.

I'm gonna add the second part to this post!

I love the concept of vaguely gangsterish mystery millionaire Hob!!! Honestly if Dream is being honest with himself Hob probably also made his money from human trafficking but the difference is that he's sexy, and funny. And he doesn't look at Dream like he's a piece of meat.

So yeah of course he's gonna let Hob buy him pretty things! At first it's all trashy but expensive stuff that Dream squirrels away to sell later. But Hob slowly persuades him to accept more tasteful (still very expensive) things. Floor length gowns and huge opals that glimmer in the light, and even a car (and a chauffeur to drive it, Hob doesn't want his darling having to do that). Dream’s parents are pushing him to get a ring on his finger, get married, get in the will... but honestly Dream is very happy as he is at the moment.

And the sex is obviously insane. Dream’s previous lovers have all been selfish and boring but Hob is just... he wants Dream ALL the time. He's always coming up behind him, gently groping him and whispering that he wants to go again, please, will Dream let him? And Dream has no inclination towards saying no. He'll let Hob do whatever insane sexual thing to him because he knows it's always going to be amazing. And of course Hob has the biggest, most perfect cock. Dream would be devastated if he didn't get it inside him every day. He doesn't care how many people see or hear him whimpering while Hob fucks him slow and deep over the bonnet of his fancy car.

He's getting fucked and the money is rolling in. What's no to love?

[tkwrites]

Insert the most excited of squeals and embarrassing of happy dances to see the family reunion posted 🙌😍

I tried to do a little summary of my favourite bits as an usual, got a tad carried away, but you deserve all the hype so I didn't bother trying to shorten it anymore 😝😘

Oh I just LOVED it all! And it really had a bit of everything just to spoil us! Thankyou a million for continuing to share your creative talent 🫶

I loved seeing those interactions and bonding moments with his parents, like Ellen's observations and little check ins 🥹. Oh and how cute she was with all his cousins. The tide pool day was just so wholesome as all the fam was invested in it and/or seeing how in love Quinn is with her. Those small moments with Jack too, him asking about doing the same in Hawaii is actually so cute! The bit of banter we see between them throughout is so fun to see also!

Her sharing memories of her dad was such a beautiful little moment too 🥹. I appreciate how you incorporate her grief into alot of your snapshots. It's such a cruel part of life that Sarah, and yourself, has had to experience more than your share for being young 🫶🩷. It truly helps me to see it pop up throughout small daily tasks and these bigger events.

All of the older relatives observations of how good they are and how in love Quinn is, ahh just- swoon!

Quinn being as obsessed with her as we all know he is is so fun to read, poor man just wants to have his way with her aha! All the stolen little moments between them as they try to actually have eachother after such a time apart 🥹. Oh and then they finally do! 🔥🙈😍, boy it was getting hot in here 😅

I was abit scared to learn there was angst in this, like noooo, it's a happy time, don't be fighting. But it just fits so well and continues to show how mature and real your writing is. Their emotions are just so overwhelming and it's easy to take it out on those we love to avoid feeling the sadness. And leads to such a soft and just oh so perfect final sex scene for the trip.

So glad Jack finally came around and the little brother interaction as she leaves was just so cuteeee. Jack is right, this suprise is going to be epic 😝🩷

Five Days of Joy

You're too good to me, my lovely Alora!

For the sake of not taking over your feed, I've responded to everything below:

I wrote that scene with the tide pools in about 15 minutes, and it all just fell together so well. I love that we get to see Sarah really in her element there.

I LOVE the banter that's developing between Sarah and Jack as they get a little more comfortable with each other. When they're in Hawaii, they'll develop a more emotional connection, which will help to solidify their relationship even more. Jack will finally have an older sister he can go to for advice, which I think is something he's always wanted, but never knew.

I think it's important to show how grief, or any other kind of trauma, pops up again and again in our lives. It would be really nice if we only had to deal with it once, and then it was done, but unfortunately, that's not how life goes. Sometimes, someone says something and it just triggers that response, and there's nothing you can do about it but ride the wave of emotion. I think it's important to show those things normalized in fiction. It somehow gives me permission to feel and do when I see someone else feel and do. Does that make sense?

I felt kind of bad making Quinn wait so long for what he wanted. I really wanted them to have sex in the car, and for it to be rather desperate, which meant I had to find ways to stop them from being together. I kept having to find new obstacles. They originally had this really intense quicky on the drive home, but I cut it, ultimately feeling like it cheapened the story and it didn't fit with the timeline I was building. If you want to read it, let me know.

The angst was kind of weird. I said this before, but I planned for the 5th day to be really simple, and then all of a sudden, Quinn was sad and angry and picking a fight. I love that sex scene. I think it's my favorite that I've ever written.

I'm so excited to get to the surprise and for Quinn to freak out in Hawaii!

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hi! so i um read your “happily ever after” for the delta squad and i was wondering if you could do that for tbb and the bois? you’re such a good writer <3333

I haven't challenged myself to write individual headcanons in a while, and this sounded like the perfect prompt to do it with! Who doesn't want these precious boys to live happily ever after in their own special ways? 🥰 psst, I also threw in Gregor and Howzer as a little treat 🤭

Cody would actually fancy himself as some sort of a political advisor or ambassador. He imagines the clones will need some representation after the war, a place in the galaxy, and to have their voices heard. He could picture himself stepping up to that challenge and being happy with it. It would sure beat having to sit around with nothing to do...

Rex also wants to be involved with supporting his clone brothers, but he has a much more domestic picture in mind. A partner, for starters. Someone to share life with who can be his best friend. And a house, any size, any location, with a door that's constantly opening for any weary or lost brother who needs a place to crash.

Wolffe has a very specific image in his mind. It may sound silly, but he wants to find a settlement somewhere for all of his brothers to live in. Like a little clone village, where they each play a part in keeping things humming. They can bring in partners if they'd like, procreate, that sort of thing... but for the most part it'd just be them, all living together until the end of their days.

Fox just wants a nap. A true, honest to goodness nap. Uninterrupted, no guilt or piling to-dos in the meantime. Free to fall asleep at his own pace and wake up naturally. Cushy pillows and all. If he got just one good sleep in, he'd be content with literally anything in his life. Heck, he'll dig holes in Tattooine forever. Just please give him this one little thing.

Fives absolutely wants kids. A whole brood of them. He can hold any kind of job, live anywhere in the galaxy, so long as he gets to be called dad. He'll embrace the dad jokes, read all the parenting books, tear up at every milestone. And if the fates allow, perhaps he'll live long enough to even be called a grandad, too.

Jesse would want to stay in the army as long as he can. He can't imagine what else he could do with his life outside of it. He'd be one of those clones crashing on Rex's sofa, needing his brother's help to get back on his feet and find meaning in his life. Eventually it would come as a handyman, keeping his hands busy with repairs in homes or ships, and of course flirting with the owners.

Kix would say he never wants to see another cut or broken bone again, but realistically, he would go out of his mind if he wasn't needed in that way. He wouldn't be able to help himself from volunteering at a hospital, or just starting his own medical practice in order to do things right. He'd especially love teaching his medical knowledge to an apprentice.

Tup wants a farm full of animals and crops. He currently knows little to nothing about how to run a farm, or how to keep things alive, but for him, happiness will be in the discovery. He'll start small, with a window ledge garden and a tooka in Coruscant. Over time, as he saves up enough money for some real land, he'll learn all the ins and outs of irrigation, breeding, and then like.

Hardcase wants to travel and experience all he can. Skydiving, snorkeling, white water rafting, pottery... you name it. His bucket list will grow as he goes; he'll cross one item off only to add two more ideas on. The galaxy is just so vast and full of so much. He knows he has a short life to live, so he intends to utilize every second of it doing something outrageously fun.

Dogma wants to remain a soldier, but not during an active war. He'd rather use his knowledge and skills to help keep the peace. He likes the feeling of being needed, of providing protection to others, but he knows wartime takes its tolls, so being a peacekeeper is a good compromise in his mind.

Echo would want to help his brothers, from a therapy standpoint. He believes there can be purpose for the clones outside of war, but that it will take a lifetime of support, encouragement, and restructuring to get them there. Whatever ear he can lend or advice he can impart to help as many clones find their happy ending, you can bet he'll do it.

Hunter pictures himself in a peaceful cabin in the woods. Living off the grid, hunting for his own food, building his own furniture, just really embracing that holistic, hippy lifestyle. He'd also prefer if the rest of the Batch was around, too. He really can't stand the thought of being alone, and while he does want a partner and kids, he'd be lying if he said his brothers weren't part of the picture also.

Wrecker wants to travel, specifically to discover and try as much food as possible. How is he affording this fantasy? Who cares. It's his dream, leave him alone. Yes, he wants the feeling of a full belly every day, but exploring different flavors and cuisines and how to prepare food is genuinely exciting to him. Maybe he'll even get a food vlog going along the way.

Crosshair isn't really concerned with whatever "happily ever after" means. So long as he can be useful, do the things he was created to do. If the war ended and he couldn't be a soldier, he'd become some kind of bounty hunter or gun for hire. True happiness would only come if he also had a partner by his side. He won't know that, though, until it happens.

Tech doesn't think about the future. Or happiness. He will go along with whatever options are available to him, so long as he gets to be himself. The easiest, and most logical in his opinion, choice is to keep the Batch together, utilizing their talents for the betterment of the galaxy. But perhaps pod racing wouldn't be such a bad gig, either.

Gregor would be happy as a teacher or coach. Anything where he could mentor the youth of whatever community he finds himself in. It wouldn't even matter much to him what he was teaching; he'd find a way to become an expert in it just to uphold his duty of education. Though physical activity, of course, ends up being his forte.

Howzer truly wants to fall in love and be married. "Happily ever after" for him looks like two old souls, holding hands as they rock on a porch swing and gaze off into the sunset. He knows relationships are work, but he's had some good examples to look up to so far in his life, so he's determined to put in the effort with the right person.

Everything Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp, @techie-bear

+Clone & Bad Batch Tags: @marvel-starwars-nerd, @pandora-the-halfling, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @bowtiesandsandshoes, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbetired, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @kaijusplotch, @salaminus, @arctrooper69, @katzs-current-obsession, @501st-rexster, @rebel-finn, @not-a-big-slay, @writing-positivelyexisting, @nekotaetae, @the-mom-friend-dot-com, @pickle-rick-y, @flowered-bicycles, @lucyysthings, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @the-royal-petals, @droids-you-are-looking-for, @moon-wrecked

(Join my tag list here)

[ichigoli]

Yumi and The Nightmare Painter Shadowbox Master Post 1:

The Yoki-Hijo

I am head over heels for making these Cosmere Shadow Boxes. I would love to find a better mold than the 4" coasters but for now they are so pretty! I don't even know what I'll do with them but for now I'm happy the exist.

To begin, I once again sketched out a design trying to focus on strong silhouettes, and cut out each layer on a different piece of card stock. I decided to go with warm colors to push the heat of Yumi's environment and give some good contrast to the Painter Box coming soon.

Learning from the Mistborn Shadow Box, I was worried about such delicate shapes floating in the resin and messing with the depth. So I tried something that worked out ok with a fabric backing I did for a commission for a friend. I painted the paper cut outs with resin and let them cure on a silicone mat to hopefully give them some more rigidity and less buoyancy in the resin.

I wanted to lean in to the "traditional" vibe that Yumi's side of the story has, so I included real natural elements as part of the resin inclusions.

Real pressed flowers and gravel give the work a more grounded (sorry) element which will contrast nicely with what I have planned for Painter. I also decided to have some fun with it and "stacked" some rocks up the sides. The flowers floating in the sky are such an iconic part of her world that I had to include them.

I didn't take pictures of the individual layers going in this time around because, thanks to the resin painted over each piece, the long curing time between each layer became unnecessary so the process was a lot faster this time around (yay, we're learning!) But you can see the added flowers and some of the gems acting as stand ins for the Hijo floating around the stacks. I know they aren't "book accurate" but I wanted just the tiniest bits of Cyan and Magenta in Yumi's piece. (Keep an eye out for their parallels in Painter's piece)

I'm really fond of the way the resin soaks into the light card stock like water. It creates a very specific kind of translucency that lends itself to the "atmospheric fade" that creates a light illusion of distance and depth.

A quick check through the bottom to preview how it all looks before we add the resin on to the final backing paper layer...

The pale lemon yellow paper pics up a lot of depth from the resin soaking in. I also swirled in the littlest bit of gold luster-dust and a drip of orange ink to the corners for a little depth of color before putting the paper down and more resin over top.

And the final reveal:

A little flat with the simple background, but that's expected. The contrast is exactly what I was hoping for. I mixed a little bit of the glow powder seen beneath the Shadow Box there to help boost the reflectivity of light which can be seen bleeding up around her knees a little bit which I hope helps evoke that heat her land is known for.

When backlit, the rein soaked into the card stock gives the whole scene an almost dreamy quality as the stone stacks fade but Yumi remains stark and crisply focused.

A few close ups of details and how lovely the layering looks peeking through the open spaces.

<3

No preview of Painter yet, I am still trying to puzzle out a good silhouette for him that will show what he's actually doing when he's hunched over a canvas without being able to use internal contours... but I can share that I bought some EL wire and hope to line his piece with real hion lines!... once I figure out how to make the wire Cyan and Magenta along the places I want it to go.

Once Painter is done, I don't plan to stop. Maybe Warbreaker next... or Stormlight, though I have other plans for that behemoth.

Real talk: Anyone who wants to float an idea, I wanna hear it. These are too fun to stop. (I could maybe even be talked into parting with one if the situation arises)

[blainecus]

In Love in Paradise, I thought Odysseus was cut off in saying, "I made a mistake," instead of crying for "Athena"

knowing Jorge loves doing throwbacks and tie-ins with other songs, I truly believed at the time this was a callback to Different Beast when a newly changed Odysseus commanded a slow death for the sirens

Obviously I heard it wrong, but

"Hearing" him try to say "I made a mistake" had me gasp

And here's why:

(Be forewarned, I have some fun and deep dive lol)

Distracted with cleaning while listening to the Wisdom Saga for the first time (couldn't stay for whole livestream), I wasn't paying close attention to the screen

and when Odysseus screamed out "Athena!" on the cliff, I had initially thought he had broken down and yelled out in defeat, "I made a--" which was meant to finish with "mistake"

Immediately I thought back to Different Beast

[SIRENS] Spare us Oh, spare us please

[ODYSSEUS] Why? So you can kill the next group of sailors in this part of the sea? Nah, you wouldn't have spared me I made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life I can't take more risks of not seeing my wife Cut off their tails! We're ending this now Throw their bodies back in the water Let them drown

Throughout their journey, Odysseus had two goals in mind: get home and everyone make it back alive.

He would try to lead by his heart to accomplish this, but that ended in death and severed bonds. So despite good intentions, Odysseus saw his actions as naive mistakes and drew the personal conclusion that these two objectives could not coexist and continuing down this path would have him achieve neither.

So to accomplish at least one and partially another, he became a ruthless Monster that ruled without mercy, making choices like drowning a whole group of sirens and sacrificing 6 of his own brothers-in-arms to Scylla. He was now led by bloodthirsty rage and a bone hungry need to get back to his family.

He made these choices in belief that this was the right way, that this is what he should have been doing all along.

(It's interesting actually how he changed his strategy to mitigate costs, but all he did was was eliminate his caring that anymore costs were made.)

(Deep down too I want to believe though that there was still a sliver left of Ody that felt wrong in what he had become, especially seen/heard in the sound of his voice in Thunder Bringer when he chooses his life over the crew)

We reach Mutiny and the metamorphosis of Odysseus' character turning into a full-blown monster is displayed when he announces he won't let even Eurylochus, his best friend, get in his way. The song is written to strongly suggest that they are in a physical fight and at this confession, Odysseus is basically saying he will tear down Eurylochus, maybe even end his life, just to achieve his now individualistic goal to "get home."

Odysseus' reasoning for his actions has shifted his belief that none of what he does now is a mistake if it means he gets back alive to his wife and son.

(It's sooooooo interesting too when you look at this transition broken down incident by incident: kill the sirens (looking out for all of the crew, we don't want another run-in with the sirens) -> sacrifice 6 men to Scylla (sacrificing few for the many) -> willingly fight Eury and give up the whole crew to Zeus (just me, myself, and i))

I will note that while Odysseus is now a complete monster in both Mutiny and Thunder Bringer, I believe that there is a slight (but powerful) difference between the two songs. Odysseus does not hesitate to fight his comrade for selfish gain in Mutiny (loss of his humanity), but Odysseus quivers, begs, and cries when sentencing all his shipmates to death in Thunder Bringer (his humanity still remains! but his friends are now dead boo)

NOW. We come to Love in Paradise!!

We can all only imagine what Odysseus endured while trapped on that island with Calypso. What was broken inside that man was impossibly broken even further, and now it has leaked entirely through his pores, the exhaustion the pain the tortured spirit, painting his whole exterior clear as the eye can see on a sunny day but yet while standing in a storm at cliff's edge, ready to do something to end it all.

[CALYPSO, spoken] Odysseus?

Everything, everything from before is tearing apart this man's mind,

[ODYSSEUS] All I hear are screams...

[CALYPSO, spoken] Ody, get away from the ledge!

Everything he's endured,

[ODYSSEUS] You don't know what I've gone through! You don't know what I've sacrificed,

All that he's witnessed with unblinking eyes, each plea and yell and cry he's heard rung in his ears, everything that has befell him and worse befallen others, these 7 long years, all due to his own actions, all due to his great many many mistakes.

[ODYSSEUS] Every comrade I long knew, Every friend, I saw them die. And all I hear are screams...

Cue Calypso trying to talk him down with gentle words and phrases, Odysseus barely tuning her out as he fights all the yells whispers shadows in his head

This is my own creative spin, but while listening back on all the voices of those he's lost (I wanna selfishly add into the mix too Athena's voice when they said their last goodbyes), he's not thinking of how he should have been craftier, or wiser, or stronger in his role as a monster against a sea witch, starving shipmates, and a wicked God. He's not thinking where or when he should have sooner turned colder, so as to spare his men from turning into pigs, so as to avoid Poseidon's wrath that sent soldiers to their watery graves, so as to save his best friend from entering the swinging path of a giant club. He's not thinking why he didn't bury all emotions and sentiment to keep him from losing the mentorship of a wise, warrior Goddess.

He isn't cursing himself for holding on as long as he did to his humanity. After the pain he has endured, from all that he's lost, he's remorseful for giving his humanity up at all.

I know that you're tired of the war and bloodshed

I was. I am. Please.

[CALYPSO] I love you, my dear, I love our time here. Life would be so much worse,

Odysseus squeezing his vision shut, "Just let me close my eyes!..."

[CALYPSO] If you had died. Please stay from away from harm!

Tell me, is this how we're supposed to live?

No. Enough, no more.

[CALYPSO] Stay in my open arms!

He laments again, "All I hear are--"

[POLITES] This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms

Polites.

His loved ones, their voices and words that haunt him, join alongside. Eurylochus, Mom, Athena, members of his crew, each distinct but deafeningly loud.

[POLITES] Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart

He was right, Odysseus thinks as his mind crumbles from all he's ultimately lost, Polites was right.

Death was unavoidable. No future comes fully prepared for. Cold-heartedness hadn't kept him and others any safer than compassion and benevolence had. But while the latter softened the hardships, the former left him stripped, bare, bloodied, bruised, and irreparably broken.

This error in choice cost him all life.

And so he screams under the crushing weight of realization and mind-breaking defeat,

"I MADE A--"

--

Across the cosmos, Athena hears her old friend's soul shatter in that last spoken word, and knows, "He needs my help."

[valorxdrive]

some kh centric thoughts.

under cut not for any wild reasons, but I just be picky what I yap about in 4k.

This experience of actually looking back at the past vs solely looking to the future has been enlightening for me. Not only when it comes to the series, but taking a pause, and removing all others from the equation outside of myself. The Nomura shillers, the haters, that view in between.

It really just made me come to see how this series transforms continuously. How it was always an experiment of new ideas to either good or questionable branches of success. I think this helped produce of a pause with me being so rigid, and become more like a noodle instead.

Which first and foremost, I think it needs to be cool to find aspects to agree/disagree with.

Yeah! I haven't been behind every decision this series is gunning for. ( ala the vs xii remodeling add ins, hell the same going for 'some' past concepts of keyblade society.) For someone who prides in accuracy in hand with good fun, this really inspired me to work with taking a more 'test grounds' approach with things. First and foremost that comes with a more respectable acceptance that I may not like a lot of what the series does going forward.

On the other hand? I absolute adore a metric fuckton of what's been created (and deals of what is actively being made). Getting a rekindled love for the game has just been a lot of fun, and the fact these possibilities through mediums like writing, drawing and who knows what else can be so realized is a boon for me. This has been the growing and enjoyable direction I've been taking with this blog.

I've also just found a more amiable ground to settle myself at. I can't be either on the extremist spectrum of Nomura emotion tm. On the other hand, I do want to take a lot of the fun aspects, the chilling, the high action-y and just make it thrive with a form of fan passion I feel that's become a bit too vitriolic. (Defenders and Doomers are equally responsible for this, that hadn't helped things for me.)

I'm also starting to content myself in laying old 'interview posts' to rest, outside of gameplay concepts. Learning more about how this series is moving with it's creators gives a more solid understanding to be more loose. If anything, just playing with that potential and making a thriving Sora blog is more than enough for me.

Being able to look forward to concepts again, while having my own firm (but malleable) stances make me happy.

[stardustndreamsofsilver]

Too Late To Go Back

Part Three

Danny x Reader (f)

Warnings: cursing

Find All Parts Here

The next couple of months were spent slowly building a friendship with Danny. It started as one or two texts a day and slowly progressed to several texts then to several texts and a short phone call and finally to texting all the time and one long phone call before bed. You kept things simple, asking about his day or how things were going with the band. Danny would always give more though. Talking about little things, like what he bought at the grocery, what outfit he decided on weaing that day, where he was planning on going and what he ate for all of his meals. It was sweet.

Although things were going well and you truly enjoyed your friendship, you knew Danny wanted more. He wanted to be together again. You could tell by the way he’d casually try to hold your hand when the two of you were out or drape his arm around your shoulders while you sat watching a movie.

One day, Danny called early in the morning and asked if you wanted to go with him to the spring opening at Cheekwood. Having never been, you agreed without hesitation. Danny picked you up about an hour later. While on the drive there, the two of you talked and sang along with your favorite songs. The two of you thoroughly enjoying the time spent together.

When you got the Cheekwood, you and Danny walk up the the admissions booth and he holds up his phone showing the attendant the two tickets he’d purchased. With a nod from the attendant, you walk into the garden. It was breathtaking. Tulips blooming as far as you could see. Pink ones, white ones, every color you could imagine.

While you were admiring all the flowers, Danny held up his phone and took your picture. Never wanting to forget how beautiful you looked amongst the blooms. Smiling down at the picture, he set it as his background and slipped his phone into his pocket.

Taking your hand, Danny walks with you over to where a jazz band is playing. The two of you stand and listen to the music. Swaying softly back and forth, you smile completely entranced by the music. Danny looks over at you and smiles. Running his hand along your arm, he takes your hand and pulls you against him. Laughing, the two of you dance in time with the song. When it ends, everyone claps.

“Hey, we’ve got a workshop to get to, come on!” Danny says, taking your hand and leading you over to the sitting area that is set up with a few long tables and stools.

Taking a seat next to Danny, you look over at him and ask, “What are we doing? What kind of workshop is this?”

“We’re going to learn how to make bouquets with fresh cut flowers. We get to keep whatever we make too!” He replies with a smile.

“Oh neat! This sounds so fun! I've always wanted to do something like this!” You say.

For the next hour, you learn the ins and outs of how to make the perfect bouquet. Yours has dahlias, cosmos, zinnias, roses, baby’s breath and other greenery. Danny’s is made up of lavender, peonies, dahlias, anemones, bishop’s flower and lady’s mantle.

You smile over at him and say, “This was so fun! Yours is stunning! If your day job doesn’t work out, you should be a florist.”

Danny laughs at that and says, “Only if you do it with me! I’d need all the help I could get.”

You and Danny spend the rest of the morning walking around the gardens and enjoying the beauty around you. Around noon, he asks if you're feeling hungry. You nod your head and say a little. With that, the two of you leave Cheekwood and head to the Bluebird Cafe. Pulling into the parking lot, Danny parks the car. You walk in and pick a table close to the stage. After ordering drinks and your food, you and Danny chat about your morning and how much fun you’d had. 

Soon, the drinks come and you take sips while enjoying the music being played by a local artist. Bobbing your head along with the music you smile and look over at Danny. “You guys should have a little surprise show here. I bet the fans would love it! Have a little scavenger hunt for clues that will lead them here and they can get in for a small fee and all the proceeds go to a local charity.”

“That’s a really good idea! I’ll have to bring it up with management and see what we can do! Maybe include the Electric Tomb to give out the clues. You know since everyone hates it, maybe that would get more people on board.” He laughs.

Enjoying the rest of lunch, you talk and joke with one another. Danny insists on paying and you let him with only a little push back. Getting back into his car, Danny asks if you’re still free to hang out or if you need to get back home. 

“I’m as free as a bird today. I’m all yours Danny boy.” You laugh.

Chuckling, he says, “Nice. I was wondering if you’d go thrifting with me? I’m moving into a new place at the end of the week and need some new furniture and stuff to put on the walls.”

“Absolutely! You know I love a good thrift sesh.” You say with a smile.

“Awesome. Let’s go shopping!” Danny says starting the car.

You find Danny a new burnt orange velvet couch and a 1960’s RCA console. Danny goes to pay and asks them to hold it for a day or two so he can have someone pick it up and take it over to his new place. While he’s doing that, you take one last look around and spot a framed Woodstock poster with a picture of Janis Joplin and Grateful Dead that you’d missed. Grabbing it, you carry it up to the register.

“Did you find something else?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, but it’s for me.” You say holding it up and showing him.

“Oh damn! How did we miss that?” He exclaims, eyes wide.

“I know, right? It’s going to go great in my living room. I’ve got the perfect spot for it.” You say as you lay it on the counter.

As you reach for your wallet, Danny quickly tells the person to add it to his bill. Looking up at him, you say, “No Danny, I’m paying for this. You’ve already spent way too much on me today.” 

“Nope.” He says, handing his card over.

“Danny!” You chastise.

“What? I like doing stuff for my favorite person. Don’t steal my joy!” He says, throwing up his hands.

Sighing and shaking your head, you poke your finger into his chest and say, “Fine, but this is it. I will pay for myself for the rest of the day.”

“Alright, alright. Whatever you say toots.” He laughs.

Going to a few more stores, you and Danny find a mid century kitchen table set and some art pieces and old band posters. With the day winding down, Danny notices you growing tired. He offers to take you home and you accept. He takes you back to your apartment and walks you up, carrying your Woodstock poster under his arm and a couple bags of clothes you'd gotten. Unlocking the door, you let the two of you in. 

“Where do you want this babe?” Danny asks.

You point over to the empty wall and he goes and sits it on the floor.

“Thank you for today Danny. I had a great time.” You say with a small smile.

“No problem.” He says, walking over to you. “I had a great time too.”

Looking up at him, you grin. “We should do this more often. I miss hanging out like this.”

Danny grins and nods his head in agreement. “I’ve missed this too.”

Closing the space between you, Danny wraps you in a hug. Swallowing thickly, you hug him back. 

“Well, you better get out of here if you want to beat traffic.” You say taking a step back.

“Yeah, I better get going. I’ll call you when I get home.” He says.

“Sounds good.” You say nodding your head and crossing your arms.

When Danny leaves, you close and lock the door behind him. Turning and leaning against the door, you heave a heavy sigh. Today had been wonderful. Amazing. You hadn’t had that much fun in a long time. But, something felt off. You loved being with your best friend, but you could tell that he saw things differently. He saw this as a step toward being together again. Which to you, didn’t feel possible.

Danny called half an hour later. Telling you that he was home safe. Something he’d picked up when you were dating. He continued talking about the day and how much he really liked being around you and being able to do stuff together. You agreed and reiterated how nice of a day it was. But, you couldn’t get over the feeling of him thinking this was something it wasn’t. 

“Danny, I think we need to talk.” You say over the phone.

“We are talking silly.” He teased.

Smirking and rolling your eyes, you continued, “I mean there’s something I want to talk to you about." Hesitating, you continue, "I know that at the beginning of all this you hoped we’d end up back together. But, I don’t want to get your hopes up. I love you, but I just don’t see us getting back together.”

“Oh–”

“I’m sorry.” You say, hating that you’re hurting him.

“Can I ask why or what I did?” He asks in a monotone voice.

“You didn’t do anything.” You sigh.

“Then why?” He whispers.

“You don’t feel like my person anymore.”

taglist: @demolitionndann, @ichoosetheroad-gvf, @gvfjakesjooty, @gretavanloverleaver, @lolipopsandgumdrops, @lightmylove-gvf, @positivegvfthings, @myfavsstuff-blog, @gretavangroupie

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] Information up to date

(Posted on AO3)

The effervescence of Naruto's wedding buoys Iruka for all of three days, tops, and then he goes into a fugue state of flash cards and checklist items he plows through all the way into the Vice President exam. After which he retires to his apartment and locks himself in for twenty four hours, fourteen of which he spends sleeping.

When he emerges to resume his duties, it’s with an unnerving shiver vibrating right under his skin. Idleness doesn’t suit him. He misses the frenzy of the previous week. His days leave his thoughts alarmingly free to roam in comparison, with nothing to distract him from the Dread of Waiting for the Sentence.

He can feel himself becoming quite insufferable.

"Iruka for the love of the Sage, give it a rest."

"Leave him be, Kaede, he needs this," Hiro argues with too much mirth to be believable.

She laughs and pitches her voice louder. "Yo Iruka, it's a nice day today, isn't it?"

"Yes", Iruka replies absently, too busy sketching horrifying diagrams to pay any mind to the drizzle outside.

He’s taken it upon himself to think up an improved sorting system for the reports. It’s dreadful and dull work, not the least of which because it’s also entirely unnecessary, but it’s just the right amount of mind-numbing to keep him from crawling up the walls during lulls in the walk-ins.

He hears more laughter and ignores it.

He's not going to get the job, is the thing, he just knows that, and then he'll never be able to look Kakashi in the eye. Eyes.

That one's still taking some getting used to.

"How would you feel about a walk on the beach, Iruka?"

"Stop making fun of my name," he can’t help but instinctively retort at the mention of anything sea related.

"Onsen, then?"

"Yes, sure, I like onsen."

He can't believe they changed the date of the exam just so he could apply. All those other candidates inconvenienced so Iruka might go to a wedding, even though he’s going to fail everyone miserably anyway. He already can't bear to think of the look of disappointment on Kakashi's face, not after the man went through so much trouble to accommodate him.

Maybe the reports could be sorted by date first instead of rank? He scribbles something down.

"So, Iruka. Would you rather have some ice cream? dango? Or takoyaki, like the one two streets over."

"Stop bothering him, Kaede. He's obviously a ramen guy."

Iruka hums in absent-minded assent without looking up and draws a nonsensical arrow from a cluster of brainstormed words to another.

Kakashi will be kind about his failure, Iruka knows, but maybe that's what makes it even worse. Ebisu’s hundreds of 'I told you so,' will be upsetting, sure, but Iruka can endure gloating when it's deserved. At least it grounds him in reality.

But Kakashi? Kakashi makes him hope for things he can't have, and it's terrible to realize that just when he gives Iruka a chance, Iruka is going to mess it up so miserably.

''Favorite color?"

"Oh I know this one, it's definitely blue,'' Hiro answers for him.

It’s a relief sometimes, being known. Saves him from contributing to conversations he’s too distracted to have.

''How do you even know that?" Kaede’s voice asks, sounding curious.

"He said it was annoying, what's with his name and all.''

Why did Iruka ever think he was in any way qualified to be Vice Principal, anyway? Truthfully, a waste of everybody's time…

But he can't ignore the laughter anymore, not when it turns into full blown cackling.

''Alright, what gives?!" he snaps, looking up with a scowl.

Fist shoved halfway up his mouth in a meager attempt at some self-control, Hiro looks away. For her part, Kaede grins back triumphantly and folds back the magazine they had been bent over. There's a pen in her hand.

She shoves the magazine towards Iruka and points at a corner of the page where a cut out picture of none other than Hatake Kakashi sits atop of a paragraph of text.

The top of the page reads '*which of Konoha's legends would be your perfect date - results*'.

''Congratulations, Iruka,'' Hiro manages in a choked voice while Iruka tries to get his head around the whole thing.

It doesn't help that his coworkers are supposed to be responsible adults. Idleness truly is a poison to the mind.

Kaede gleefully pulls the magazine back to herself.

''If you like them reliable and steadfast,” she reads, “look no further! A man of mystery and dedication, the sixth Hokage of Konoha is the one for you. Whether relaxing with you at an onsen or sharing a warm meal at the Ichiraku Ramen restaurant of Konoha, this is a man that'll remain faithfully at your side. And, who knows, allow you into his heart, and maybe even past his mask!"

Iruka's eyebrows have a hard time figuring out what angle to frown at.

"That's not--" he starts arguing, but Kaede jostles him with her free hand and a mocking pout.

"Iruka and Kakashi-san,” she sings, shoving him to the beat, “sitting on a tree, k-i-s-s-i--Ohshit! Rokudaimesama!"

Kaede pulls back with a convulsive startle that almost topples her chair. The magazine crumples in her hand. Hiro reaches out in half-hearted, belated support. It's the thought that counts.

Kakashi takes it all in with lazy amusement. And total silence.

"Rokudaime-sama, we were just--"

"It was a joke--"

"We didn't mean--"

"It doesn't--"

In the back of his mind, the part of Iruka that hasn't been eroded by worry over his professional fate watches with vicious vindication as his coworkers flounder.

It fades to ash when Kakashi's eyes turn on him.

"Iruka-sensei. Might I have a word?"

With ice running in his veins, Iruka pushes to his feet. "Ah, of course."

Kaede mutters one last ohshit while he follows Kakashi out.

"They didn't mean anything by it, it was all said in jest..." Iruka can't help but say once they've slowed in the privacy of an empty corridor.

Kakashi turns to face him with a careless shrug, pulling something out of a hidden pocket in his vest.

He hands the crisp envelope to Iruka who takes it with renewed confusion.

"What's that?"

"Your results."

And with those words, the thawing ice in Iruka’s blood freezes right over and spreads to his whole body.

The brand-new paper bends in the too harsh squeeze of his fingers.

Kakashi tilts his head, expectant. "Aren't you gonna open it?"

"Kakashi-sama, I--"

A handwave cuts him off. "That, still?!" Kakashi asks somewhat irritably.

Iruka has to swallow before he tries speaking again. "I just want to say... I appreciate the chance you've given me, even if I don't--Well, I appreciate it."

Kakashi holds his gaze wordlessly for a beat, then nods.

"Sure. Now go on," he says more softly, "open it. I want to know what it says."

"As if you don't already," Iruka finds it in himself to mutter while pulling out a kunai in lieu of letter opener.

"But I... don't?"

Iruka pauses mid cut. "What do you mean, you don't. You're the Hokage. The Academy is under your direct purview."

Entirely unbothered, Kakashi shrugs. ''I recused myself.''

Iruka suddenly sympathizes with Kaede's death grip on the magazine before. ''You what?!"

"Well, I couldn't exactly be impartial, you know,'' Kakashi retorts with something petulant to his voice, like his integrity is what Iruka's doubting, of all things.

Iruka gapes at him for a while but when no more explanation's forthcoming, he gets back to the task at hand. When in doubt, compartmentalize. Cutting the envelope. Check. Pulling out the letter. Check. Unfolding the letter in perfectly steady hands. Eh, half ain't bad, we'll check it.

Reading the contents.

''I got the job,'' he says faintly, disbelieving, voice small in the empty corridor.

He stares at the paper some more, but the words remain the same.

He feels his face break into a smile.

 ''Kakashi, I got it," he says again, this time stronger.

A jitter of delight overcomes him and he jumps in relief, punching the air. He feels like a sixteen year old freshly made chuunin again.

His ''Yes!" echoes up the hallway.

At the sound, one of the doors down the hall clatters open.

''Did you get in?!" Kaede's voice shouts at him.

''Hell yeah!" he hollers back.

The reports room can be heard exploding in cheers.

Iruka turns back to Kakashi, finds him standing calmly to the side with a soft smile on his face.

''Thank you. So much,'' Iruka tells him fervently, suddenly so overcome with gratitude he can only say it in a whisper.

Kakashi scratches his cheekbone, right over a dawning flush of embarrassment. ''Aah, I didn't do anything.''

''Yes, you did. So thank you for the opportunity. And thank you for believing in me.''

Kakashi shuffles his feet. ''You're the only one that didn't, Iruka-sensei,'' he says, not unkindly.

There's nothing unkind about him at that moment.

In the reports room, the hoots of joy have been joined by the characteristic drumming of chairs and desks.

Kakashi casts an amused glance in the direction of the noise. ''I should leave you to celebrate,'' he says mildly, making no move to walk away.

Iruka rubs the back of his neck and chuckles. Truly, he can't picture Kakashi in that riotous crowd.

''Ichiraku this evening? Then I can tell you all about my revolutionary plans for the filing system," he asks with a grin.

Kakashi smiles back.

''Wouldn't miss it for the world,'' he replies, pulling out his book as they walk back to the reports room.

Iruka almost laughs at it, that way of not-so-subtly keeping him company while acknowledging the end of the conversation.

Something makes him pause at the doorstep of his office. The rioters calm at his sight, expectant, but he doesn't pay them any mind.

Feeling strangely vulnerable, he turns to Kakashi with his hand on the doorframe.

''See you tonight, then?"

Kakashi clasps him on the shoulder. ''It's a date.''

And then he disappears in a whirlwind of leaves.

The fucking--

The uproar that follows is deafening.

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter six of Time’s Arrow, “I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow, I hope it bleeds all day long // You are my sweetest downfall” is here, just in time for my wisdom tooth surgery! Hope y’all are hungry! Especially you, Beetlands fans.

Please read the warnings carefully and proceed with caution. This chapter is pretty rough.

As always, extras!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title are from “No Children” by The Mountain Goats and “Samson” by Regina Spektor, for the very different vibes happening throughout it! The first bit reflects how Beetlejuice was relying on pain to distract him from his Feelings, the second is him admitting that the Maitlands are his “downfall”. Also both songs slap so hard.

- “Charles insisted on moving his chair to sit close by, “in case you fall”. (Why would he care if Beetlejuice fell?)” - Get absolutely fathered, idiot.

- “They’d pointed out their own star not too long after they’d all settled down, and found they couldn’t take their eyes off of it. Was it really tied to them? Would it go out if they did? Would they go out if it did? They didn’t really have answers. They weren’t educated on all the ins and outs of demon-.. hood. Their mother didn’t quite care to find the time to teach them, and they didn’t care to learn.” - Wow. Interesting stuff to think about!

- “Mhm. Blood ritual. Carve a bunch of markings in the ground, sacrifice an innocent. Sign your name in… the Big Book. Then spill your own blood.” - Yep! There’s one big, all important “Big Book” that has the name of every demon in it. Juno (that’s not her original name in this fic) killed one of her living children as a sacrifice, and then slit her own throat. Fun!

- “.. there is. You get an invite, and you give something up.” - Very interesting. Also brought back up later in the chapter!

- “… “flying dragon” orange sapling pots.” - “Flying dragon” oranges are the most cold-hardy orange trees, according to google!

- “ “I would also like to apologize for what happened to your mother,” Charles says firmly, glancing meaningfully at Lydia. (Beetlejuice follows his gaze to find her and the Maitlands all lightly shaking their heads at the man.)” - THEY TRIED TO WARN HIM

- “Charles is kneeling beside him, face scrunched up with that same look he’s given him so many times before. He knows it’s concern, from seeing it on the other humans, but why would Charles be making it at him?” - PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE BEING FATHERED.

- “Your favorite movie is “Pride and Prejudice”. The 2005 version only, you think the 1995 adaptation didn’t do it justice. You went to Cornell University to study business, and met Lydia’s mom there. Your favorite flowers are red carnations.” - Emily showed him that movie, since she was an English major, and he cried the first time he saw it. He hasn’t watched it since her death. Red carnations mean “my heart aches for you��!

- “Your bisexual awakening was Ms. Honey from “Matilda”. You love ‘true crime’, but you can’t stomach most bloody movies. Except for “Alien” and “Aliens”, ‘cause you like watching Sigourney Weaver kick ass. Adam’s lived with you since you were both 16, but you two didn’t start dating until you were 19.” - Surprise, Barb is bisexual! Who wouldn’t fall for Ms. Honey, honestly? I like to think she admired her extreme kindness and somewhat tried to follow her example. Also Sigorney Weaver is literally my wife, if you care.

- “You’ve seen “The Terminator” 137 times. Your favorite of those weird little monsters is the big blue one called ‘Lapras’. You had a dog when you were real little named ‘Sawyer’, and it’s in your top 5 for baby names because you loved that dog. You couldn’t get another after he passed away because your mom’s boyfriend was allergic to dogs.” - Beej may not know what is being said, but he loves to listen! Also I wonder if readers should store the name ‘Sawyer’ in their memory for later.

- Adam’s talk with Beej - AUGH. Where do I even start? Someone finally explains to our little demon what love is actually about. And the first hint at… gasp! Self love?! Slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

- “They feel.. the same way I feel about them. Why? How? … They’ll be here for me until I get better. If… if I ever get better. … I.. need to get better? … Something’s wrong with me. They all know it. (They’ve always known. Everyone can see it.) But what? Will it ever get better? Will they still be waiting for me if I do?” - ARRRRGH… the realization that something is Wrong with you, but you don’t know how to fix it or if it can be fixed, and that those who love you can see it my beloathed… not entirely true, but true in Beej’s mind!

- “The demon clacks his teeth repeatedly, stomping a hoof on the ground firmly once. “This is bullshit.” ” - He stomps his hooves when he’s mad sometimes, like a rabbit. Or a ram preparing to charge.

- “Beetlejuice used one napkin to soak up some of the egg yolk from his plate, quickly shoving it in his mouth before either of the humans have time to notice and protest.” - just wanted to highlight this particularly feral moment.

- “ “Yeah. Sorry, Babs. My bad. My memory is… worse than a goldfish.” “Goldfish’s memory isn’t even that bad. You’re just uniquely forgetful.” ” - goldfish don’t have bad memories!! Stop spreading the falsehood pretty please

- “The demon bared his teeth at her, a gesture which she immediately returned. He was still huffing…” - he also huffs when he’s mad, like a cat does!

- “ “Just… try to be mindful of when important things happen with the business and you, alright? Keep us in the know.” The demon slowly nodded, shifting in his seat. “.. I promise I’ll try.” ” - I think most neurodivergent people have experienced this. The best we can do is try!

- Barbara talking about seeing the doctor - a continuation of the Neurodivergent Experience, and also a reference to a similar scene in Stephen King’s “Laurie”. Because that story fuckin’ rocks.

- “Ash’s hair has been properly bleached and cut into a choppy bob.” - Chloe Price-esque cut, since she’s one of the characters who inspired Ash!

- “Beetlejuice’s has been trimmed back to the length it was after the loop, no longer shaggy and falling into his eyes. The grey is missing completely, the brown pronounced and obviously artificial, if one stares at it too long.” - Yep, his hair has been growing out at an exponential rate since they escaped the loop! So has his fur. I wonder if that will be an issue later.

- “ “Thank you. What have you done to my brother?” “Just gussied him up a little for tonight. And showed him the first three and a half “Saw” movies.” The demon was purring loudly, repeatedly shifting his feet. “Someone’s currently getting scalped.” ” - “SAW” MY BELOVED!!! I got Sawtism. So does Ash. She is doing her best to pass it on to Beetlejuice. He doesn’t really get the storyline, but he likes the blood.

- “ “And… wow. You cut, like… a whole foot off. That’s.. crazy.” Lydia went to fidget with their own hair, ignoring Beetlejuice’s interjection of “so did Larry!”. ” - This likely won’t be relevant, but Beej was present when Polaris cut their hair to the length it is now. A little hint to their past together!

- “ Beetlejuice let out a little groan then. “Oh. Okay. I get it now.” “.. get what?” He patted his sister’s arm sympathetically. “You’ll figure it out soon.” ” - he gets it. He sees it from the other side.

- “ “Oh, Ash, c’mon, you didn’t have to get me anything!” Lydia called after the other teen as she bolted to the back room. “Yeah, but I wanted to!” ” - My own response whenever people say “you didn’t have to”. Yeah, I didn’t, but I wanted to!

- “Beetlejuice waits patiently as Ash presents Lydia with some sort of strange, old camera. Something with the word “Polaroid”.” - Ash used the absurd amount of money Beej has been paying them to get Lydia a nice camera! Beej doesn’t know what it is, and I don’t have the energy to research the proper name for it.

- “ “Hello!” Barbara chirped, repeatedly patting her husband’s arm out of excitement. Beetlejuice let out a weary sort of sigh in the silence that followed. Guess we’ll do it the hard way. … The demon was very careful as they gripped the teen’s arm and bit down on their wrist. Ash yelped as their teeth broke skin, yanking their arm away and holding it close to their chest.” - The bite gave them the ability to see the paranormal! They weren’t gifted like Lydia, so they had to be given that gift. Also, WAS THAT THE BITE O-

- “Ash gripped at her wrist, letting out a little growl of frustration. “What the fuck, man?! Why does it sting so bad?” ” - because they’re venomous!

- “ “… Hope ya got your rabies vaccine, Ash!” Ash blanched, hesitantly allowing Barbara to inspect her wrist. “What?” “Kidding! I don’t have rabies anymore.” ” - Not anymore!

- “… he sees his shaky hands playing rounds of “Mario Party” with all of the humans.” - Beetlejuice sucks at “Mario Party”. They main Bowser, like they do in “Mario Kart”. Lydia mains Shy Guy.

- Isopropyl alcohol - partially based on a scene from “Moral Orel”. Do not watch that show. ALSO, DON’T DRINK ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL!!

- “His voice comes out slow and difficult when he thanks Delia for wiping the frosting off his face.” - GET PROPERLY MOTHERED

- “Lydia opens her presents. Beetlejuice struggles to keep track of them. Some sort of framed… butterfly? No, moth. A framed moth from Delia. … A “forest exploration kit” from Barbara. An old book Beetlejuice had kept in his hammer space, which he recently was told was an original print of “Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque”. ” - The moth is a framed, taxidermied Death Head moth! The “exploration kit” is basically just survival/camping stuff. Yeah Beetlejuice had a $100K book in his hammer space.

- “Why is Adam so far from him? He feels some sort of strange, dour sorrow when the ghost sits on the ground rather than next to him, like he and Barbara usually do. His wife sits next to him.” - I wonder if this has anything to do with alcohol related trauma?

- “They watch Lydia’s favorite movie, “Coraline”. Beetlejuice’s head is spinning. “You know that I love you.” He feels sick. “You.. have a really funny way of showing it.” His ears are ringing. It’s deafening.” - He’s watching it for Lydia, but this movie is unfortunately still very triggering for Beetlejuice.

- “ “Yeah. Last month.” He allows the minuscule illusion to slip. “What did you-” Lydia lets out a little gasp, leaning forward closer to the demon. “What happened to your ear?!” Beetlejuice tilts his head so she can better see his right ear. “Had to give up a piece of myself to make up this one. Hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it.” His hands shook horribly as he slowly sliced through the rest of his ear from the notch. Sobs wracked through his body, and he swore he could smell tobacco and brandy. He swore he could hear his mother screaming. But it was worth it for Lydia.” - YEAH CUTTING OFF PART OF THEIR EAR CAUSED A BAD PTSD EPISODE.

- “Beetlejuice carefully thumbed through the Book, past all of the names already written in it. To the page reserved for his coven. For Lydia.” - Hmmm! I wonder what that’s about?

- “He holds it close to his chest, careful not to let it drip onto his… when did he put on pajamas? When the fuck did he get Hello Kitty pajamas? He squinted at Lydia. They were matching? He vaguely recognized the gothic little creature on her pajama pants.” - Ash bought them matching Hello Kitty and Kuromi pajamas, because it’s funny.

- “The room is dim, except for the faint glow of Lydia’s TV. She and Ash had fallen asleep mid-way through some sort of ghost hunting show marathon, bundled up in blankets. They were sat up close together, only held up by each other.” - they fell asleep watching “Buzzfeed Unsolved”.

- “ “I.. I’ll wait for you in the hall. Give you some privacy.” Beetlejuice opened his mouth to ask what she meant, briefly, but shut it again after a few moments in favor of softly thanking her.” - Beetlejuice has no idea why someone would bother to give them privacy.

- “ “Hey, Larry! Long time no see!” They chirped cheerfully. “… Betelgeuse.” They growled, voice low and flat. “You continue to exist.” ” - Based on a scene in “Ready or Not”, one of the funniest horror movies ever.

- “They had not changed in the centuries since they’d seen each other, it seemed. White, fuzzy bear-like ears poked out of their pale, neatly slicked-back hair. A pair of short, plain black horns adorned with a multitude of variously colored rings. Clinical red eyes glaring down at him through a pair of rounded silver glasses, pale brows furrowed and their lip curled in a constant look of neutral displeasure. Their white fur coat, draped over their hulking stature.” - Say hello to Polaris! They are 6’5”. They have albinism, and the features of a polar bear, because their star is from Ursa Minor! Also they have mountain goat horns.

- “Polaris crossed their arms just below sight from the mirror. “I see. Give me a moment.” Beetlejuice shifted his hooves nervously as their aloof crimson gaze scanned his form. “Hmm. Still a clumsy oaf, I see.” They reached up to adjust their glasses.” - Polaris is extremely skilled in healing and such. Yes, they were able to assess what was wrong with Beetlejuice just by looking at them.

- “ “… Pieces of bone lodged in both lungs-” “That happened while I was stuck in a time loop, shouldn’t that have healed?” Polaris let out a growl, much deeper and intimidating than Beetlejuice’s own. “Don’t interrupt me. And no, it doesn’t work like that. Any damage your body sustains in a time loop carries over. Obviously.” “… damn. Like “Happy Death Day”. That explains why my throat still burns sometimes.” ” - YEAH SURPRISE. The damage from the holy water all those times carries over! So did everything else!

- “ “Many little bruises and cuts from… Sirius, it seems. Really now, Betelgeuse, did you not learn your lesson before?” They spoke again before he could hiss at them not to say his name.” - Cyrus’ real name reveal! Not that it was too much of a secret, hehe.

- “ “… That would take me all day, little prince.” Beetlejuice let out an involuntary snarl, stomping a hoof down on the tile floor once. They caught a hint of bright red in their dim reflection. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” ” - I wonder what this is about?

- “Polaris flashed him that flat, irritating false smile. They had never properly learned to smile, like Beetlejuice himself, but theirs always seemed more like a grimace. (They were a pair, once. Just briefly. The little demons with big teeth, odd smiles, and poor grasps on any and all social cues, breather or demon. But that was so long ago.)” - They are both extremely autistic, and neither knows how to “smile properly”. They were friends when they were very small, but they had a falling out.

- “I didn’t call you to lecture me, you fuckin’.. Judge Holden lookin’-ass bitch!” - Judge Holden is the main antagonist of “Blood Meridian”, a book I have read quite a few times! He has albinism, like Polaris. DO NOT LOOK HIM UP. PLEASE.

- “ “There. Quite the weight off your chest, no?” Polaris frowned, tapping a finger on their chin. “No, that won’t do at all. I already made that joke after your top surgery, didn’t I?” ” - Polaris did Beetlejuice’s top surgery!

- “ “Th-… thank you, Polaris. That.. I feel much better.” They blinked at him, slightly tilting their head. “Yes, I imagine that’s why you called upon me. To feel better.” They then narrowed their eyes. “Don’t think I’ll do anything else for free just because you thanked me, Betelgeuse. I’m not as soft as you. I just cleared your lungs for free because you amused me.” ” - they do not understand the concept of genuine gratitude.

- “Beetlejuice was.. already feeling better than they had in so long. “.. what will it cost me for you to fix the rest?” But they already knew the answer. “Oh, you know that already, little prince. It’s the same as it has always been.” Polaris grins at him again, curling back their black lips in an offputting manic sort of half-smile, half-grimace. “The cost to remove the Seal that binds you and cure all your ailments is, of course, your most valuable skill: your ability to lie.” Beetlejuice crossed his arms over his chest, gripping at his left forearm. “.. you know I won’t agree to that.” “Of course not. What is the serpent without his silver tongue?” Shame and anger bubbles up in Beetlejuice’s gut. He grits his teeth and sighs. They’re right. You’re nothing but a lying snake. ” - HMMM. I wonder if readers should save this information away for later!!

- “ “If we have no further business, then I will take my leave.” They lifted one gloved hand, presumably to sever the connection, but paused. “.. perhaps consider getting a mobility aid for that leg, Beetlejuice.” Their voice took on an odd sort of wistful twinge. “A cane would suffice, for when it starts to give out on you.” Beetlejuice nodded, giving a half-hearted little smile. “.. thanks, Larry.” ” - Just a little hint at the friendship they used to have many, MANY years ago. A part of Polaris is still strangely fond of Beej.

- “ “About as hard to watch as “Exorcist II: The Heretic”, man.” “… fuck. That bad?” “Maybe even worse.” ” - That movie is one of the worst movies ever. I am not kidding. Watch it if you want to be aware of time passing and death marching closer.

- “ “Aren’t you already dating that… ‘Cyrus’ guy?” “Yeah. ‘M polyamorous, though.” “Oh. Slay.” The demon lifted his head to squint at the teen. ‘Slay’? Before he could ask what the fuck that meant, they spoke again. ” - Beetlejuice has never heard most ridiculous teenage lingo.

- “… god. For a complete doofus, you can be super.. sappy and poetic sometimes. It’s offputting.” - based on something said to me!

- “Lydia caught sight of enormous grey paws under their long skirts, hearing the clicking of their claws on the wooden floor with each step. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, their mind whispered. But that was silly, wasn’t it? Beetlejuice trusted this demon.” - Lydia sees right through Cyrus’ thematic bullshit.

- “His cheeks were still a bright red, the place where Cyrus had placed his lips even having a light tinge of blue to it.” - He got a little bit of frostbite from that kiss.

- “Ash was there as well, sitting on the counter, showing the demon something on her phone that caused them to laugh.” - it was this video.

- “Her green eyes caught the afternoon sun in a beautiful way, reflecting back a golden- fuck, now is not the time for that.” - Lydia’s got her priorities straight! (Well, not straight.) Brothers first, beautiful women second.

- “ “You can’t stand turtlenecks. They’re a sensory hell for you. Why’re you wearing one now?” He’d shook like a chihuahua when Barbara had insisted he try one on in the past. There was no way in hell he’d wear one of his own free will out of the blue. ” - based on my own personal experience with turtlenecks. Why are they literally the worst thing ever?

- “Nearly all of the skin of their neck was bruised a dark purple and blue, from their collarbone nearly to their chin. Just below their Adam’s apple was a line of crudely done stitches holding together what seemed to be a complete decapitation wound.” “Lightly decapitated! My head didn’t come all the way off!” - Yeouch. Just wanted to put all these details together for posterity.

- “ Lydia growled, going to dig through her backpack for her notebook. “No one lays their fuckin’ hands on my brother and gets away with it.” Ash hopped down from the counter and followed her, nodding in agreement. “I’ll get my bat.” ” - Lydia is ready to exorcize a bitch. Ash is ready to bash his fuckin’ kneecaps in.

- “ “I don’t need attack dogs right now, alright? I just…” he hesitated, suddenly looking ashamed. He slumped down into the stool set up behind him. “I want.. someone to be.. here for me.” ” - Sometimes, you don’t need people piling hate on someone who hurt you. You just need them to comfort you.

- “Lydia gently patted his back, speaking to him in as soft a voice as she could muster. “It’ll be alright”, “I’m here”, “You’ll be okay”. She felt the collar of her dress become damp with tears, but she didn’t mind.” - IS THIS FAMILIAR? DOES THIS PARALLEL A SCENE IN TIME IS A FLAT CIRCLE?

- “Lydia feels a soft little smile tugging at her lips as Ash goes on, making plans for what snacks to bring and what creeks to look for rocks in. Beetlejuice chimes in, voice still a little hoarse, suggesting his favorite fallen oak tree for bug hunting. She’s struck with how kind she is, in her own way. How she treats her strange monster of a brother with prickly compassion. She feels a strange little fluttering in her chest.” - 👀

- “.. he and Ash had a stick duel that devolved into an impromptu friendly knife fight,” - Based on a scene in “Night in the Woods”!

- “As Beetlejuice gloated and stuck his tongue out at Ash from a branch a good ten feet above hers, his tail securely holding him up, he felt on top of the world.” - PREHENSILE TAIL USAGE!!

- “He didn’t hit his head that bad, he just needed a moment for the color to return to his vision. Had Ash always had four pairs of eyes?” - Sometimes if you hit your head in just the right place, you temporarily (or permanently, if you’re unlucky) lose the ability to see color. Yes I know this from experience.

- “ He shrugged his shoulders when his daughter asked if the other teen could stay the night. “… I suppose, if her parents are alright with that.” Ash waved their hand and scoffed. “They don’t care. They’re in Massachusetts.” The man frowned, exchanging a brief glance with Lydia. “.. I see. Stay as long as you like, Ms. Swallows.” ” - Charles decided right here that Ash was also his child now too. Father of three!

- “While Lydia and Ash went up to play some sort of… dragon killing game, Beetlejuice decided to retire early to his room.” - Poor guy has no idea what “Skyrim” is.

- “Inside were two little drop earrings with a singular gemstone in each, one a soft, sunshine yellow, the other a gentle, opaque jade.” … “Demons exchange jewelry when they’re courting each other, right?” … “We borrowed some books from Lydia. Read up on demon culture. You weren’t getting the signals the human way, so we decided to try the demon way.” - I JUST. I KNOW I WROTE THIS BUT IT GETS ME, OKAY? THEY PUT IN A LOT OF EFFORT FOR HIM

- “ “… oh!” Finally, a connection. “Oh, yeah, totally, I’m down. You can use me for whatever, don’t even gotta ask permission.” They smirked, feeling a few teeth poking out between their lips. “Bondage, choking, couple bonding over my degradation, knife play, I am down for whatever to spice up your-” Barbara and Adam’s faces both became dark shades of red. Ah. I didn’t connect shit. ” - Both a reference to a “Buzzfeed Unsolved” meme and also highlighting the sad way that Beej sees himself as something to be used by others.

- “They finally forced themself to look down at her, a few rouge tears slipping down their cheeks. Her cobalt eyes were filled to the brim with… love. Care. That same Feeling. Beetlejuice quickly turned their head to find that Adam was the same, his beautiful brown eyes staring up at them the same as Barbara’s.” - WE GOT IT!! IT FINALLY CLICKED EVERYONE!!!!

- “ “… may we kiss you?” Barbara asked in a low, soft voice. Yes. Yes. Yes. Holy fuck, YES. “… Beetlejuice?” “Huh? D-did I say yes?” “You didn’t say anything, sweetheart.” “Oh. I meant yes, b-but my mouth didn’t… speak.” ” - YOU ARE NEVER SAFE FROM AN “Asteroid City” REFERENCE.

- “They didn’t get to finish their sentence. Barbara was cupping their face and pressing her lips against theirs before they knew it. It was electrifying. It was divine. She was warm and soft and perfect and- It was over before they knew it, before they could reciprocate. And before they could stammer out any more foolish false starts to a sentence, Adam was holding their face and kissing them gently.” - WE DID IT BOYS. 88,494 WORDS AND THEY FINALLY KISSED.

[tempus-serpentes]

??? / system and personality vulnerabilities/dissection, brief mention of domestic s/a, long rambling beneath cut.

I am so tired of wearing masks all the time. Nearly no one knows my real face, it’s too abrasive, too blank and impassive. Alternatively, too exaggerated. I’ve been a chameleon my whole life. I am very much tired of it. I’m not quite sure how to stop it, if I’m being honest, how to be as close to “myself” as possible. Probably even more so because I’m not the “core” of this body, I existed solely to replace a dead child and now I’m not sure what to do with the grown up corpse. They were supposed to come back.

I know certain things are integral to a personality, I know some things are not. I know I’m inherently sceptical of others, but that’s not a natural personality trait, that is taught. I know I am “blithe”, in both meanings of the word. I know I’m incapable of feeling strong emotions for an extended period of time. I know that I don’t always like making jokes or being funny and such but I also know that that’s what’s expected of the persona I’ve made for myself. My “person suit” is unsuspecting and odd but well meaning. Comedic. Boisterous but these are inherently disarming traits and I’m not sure how much of these are nature or nurture. I have spent a very long time creating this mask but I’d like to take it off now.

I know I’m possessive, of materials and people but not to the point of constant jealousy, to the point of resource guarding, maybe, saving the people I love because something in my brain is quite selfish. Though, never to the point of overbearing. I’ve taught myself manners. I don’t like being lied to but I am capable of omitting truths.

I am like catnip to rapists disguised as lovers. This is an unfortunate side affect of the mask as well, I don’t blame myself but I’m aware that I’ve made myself give the nature of docile even when I am not.

I don’t really know who I am because for a very long time this was not “my” body or “my” life and had no investment in it. I love people, of course, I love things and foodstuffs and whatever else we expect of a surface level person but it’s all very cut and dry.

I enjoy having friends and people to talk to but I do not want to make friends. I don’t mind the emotional labour, the ins and outs of learning a new person and the relationship it will bring, I find it interesting and invigorating but I do not like the idea of abandonment. It makes me. Well.

I miss people I barely know and I hate people I’ve never spoken to if I find my morals offended in some way as I am very protective of the moral guidelines I have created and learned. I’m not sure how “normal” this is.

I think romantic love is sickening (angering? sickening is too strong of a word but nothing else really defines the feeling), but only if I’m the one involved. I do not even fantasise about it. I have been burned a few too many times so this is not “nature”, it is “nurture”. Sex is fine. I guess. It’s something people do and I would probably find enjoyment in if I was able to.

I don’t experience friendship decay. I love my friends. I think about them throughout the day even if we have not spoken, I give them my imaginary well wishes and I hold them and keep them very close to my heart. Sometimes I feel like I’m reminding myself of that constantly. “I love my friends” because I don’t love much else. I am inherently prone to self-harm, this is nature for a series of reasons regarding my natural psyche but I do not hurt myself unless I intend to, it almost never happens on accident. I am not prone to hurting others intentionally or for fun but I am always aware of my innate human ability to do so. I do not like cruelty or violence without reason. I am easily annoyed but I would never allow that annoyance to interfere with my actions.

I don’t like being “known” beyond a superficial level unless I allow it but I hate not being understood because no one, save for a few, have managed to see me. My mask has been slipping a lot more lately. I feel unsettled, I feel as if I have been shifted slightly but without any understanding of what such a shift means.