#then at some point i was trying to connect the dots with someone about characters that were an origin point for me

[skeletalheartattack]

Using anonymous because interaction scary but I want you to know when I saw Zarbon while playing Sparking Zero I thought of your blog.. its neat how one very dedicated person on the internet can change your mind on a character

*dialing my rotary phone to call the press* the hyperfixations are working. inform every body immediately!!

[always-just-red]

Merry Christmas, guys!!! Ok, so this is a day early, but I wanted to say thanks to you all with a feel-good follow-up to my Game Night fic! So, here: a Christmas Eve sleepover with the boys, and they’re on their VERY best behaviour this time, I promise 😌

The Night Before Christmas

L&DS Boys X Reader

(Recommended to read this fic first, if you haven't already!)

Summary: It’s time to get the gang back together!!!

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: gn!reader, kinda poly? but mostly platonic, a lil bit of wholesome intimacy, one particularly suggestive joke from Sylus (he can’t help himself), also probably needs another proofread but my eyes are tired 💀

| Word count: 4.8k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Right! Let’s try this again.”

You glance around your living room with your hands on your hips, channelling your inner Captain Jenna as you fight to suppress flashbacks that verge on traumatic.

Some of this is exactly the same as last time. Sylus is sprawled in the same spot on your couch, looking inordinately pleased with himself for someone who has only just arrived. The very image of smugness; you immediately suspect that something is horribly wrong, or on track to go horribly wrong. You glance to the other couch, where Xavier and Rafayel sit, equally braced for your presentation. Neither one has been teleported to the roof of your building.

Sylus is reading your relief, and he gives you an exclusive smile, as if to say: yet.

Try not to think about it.

You stand by a large drawing pad— currently flipped closed to create a suspense that only Xavier has bought into. He gives you an eager nod, the blue of his eyes warm and encouraging.

The faces around you haven’t changed, but your little apartment has. Strings of twinkling lights run around your walls, casting faint, festive glows. There’s frost on your windows. Littered everywhere are ornaments: small, glittery birds and wintery creatures. Lots of snowman plushies, courtesy of a few, dedicated arcade expeditions with your favourite doctor.

New season, new start.

“We all remember how this went last time,” you push on finally. “Mistakes were made. Shit happened. Whatever— we’re not gonna dwell on it.”

Sylus lifts his hand. “I, for one, would enjoy a reminder of said mistakes.”

“Motion denied,” you dismiss with a grin and a customer-service enthusiasm that screams: don’t fuck with me right now. Sylus’s eyes sparkle, like embers anxious to become something brighter— more destructive. Don’t think about it. “It wasn’t my fault. You outnumbered me four-to-one that night, which is why my first order of business today is to appoint a co-host.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots into the air. You look at him incredulously. Zayne is stood beside you, his arms folded, and everyone else in the room has connected those particular dots.

“It’s Zayne, Rafayel,” you sigh. 

“What?!” He sits up straighter. “Why him?! What are his qualifications, huh? His credentials?”

“I’ve never set the kitchen on fire,” Zayne says.

The artist scoffs, adds under his breath: “Turned it into an ice rink, though.”

There’s a chuckle from Sylus, and a part of you feels bad, pitting Zayne against the others like this. But he’s not alone. He has you, just you, so you should probably do something. “That actually brings me really nicely to my next point, Raf, thank you.”

Unexpected praise. Rafayel stutters, a faint blush to his cheeks, and you take full advantage of having staggered him. “Zayne, do you wanna…?”

“Of course.” The dark-haired man adjusts his glasses, then addresses the rest of the room. “In the interest of everyone’s safety, we have devised a few rules to be adhered to for the rest of the evening. These will be enforced by a point system, which we will record… here.”

He flips the drawing pad open, and a blank table fills the top half of the page. Each quarter has been assigned a name. “Basically—” you gesture to it— “three strikes and you’re out.”

None of your guests look perturbed by this.

“The first rule is simple,” Zayne explains, pulling away a strip of paper from the bottom of the page, then reading the writing underneath: “No unauthorised use of Evols.”

Rafayel’s hand shoots up again. You tilt your head at it. “Yes, Raf?”

“Ok, so what if there’s a power-cut or something? Lights are out. Heating’s out. Big disaster, yeah? You’re saying I couldn’t—?” He clicks his fingers, spawning a small flame.

“We would use my Evol,” Xavier says with the gentle authority he uses to steer civilians away from a Wanderer incursion. “It’s safer.”

The flame is snuffed out. Rafayel huffs: “Don’t you use it to, like, kill things?”

“Yeah…” Xavier shrugs. “Bad things.”

“Second rule!” you chime.  

“Second rule,” Zayne echoes, peeling back the next strip of paper. There’s absolutely no showmanship, nor energy at all as he continues, “No unauthorised sarcasm.”

Another hand raises. “What would be authorised sarcasm?” Xavier asks, squinting as though he can’t quite figure it out on his own.

You purse your lips in thought. “If it makes me laugh?”

Rafayel is stroking his chin, his eyes narrowed, because he’s also thinking. “High risk, high reward,” he muses, and you shoot him a smile.

This is going better than you thought it would, actually. If you were to turn a few more pages of the drawing pad, you would see crude illustrations of the worst-case scenarios you’d sketched out for Zayne earlier. There’s one where Rafayel is trying to strangle Sylus with Christmas lights. There’s another where Zayne has turned you all into snowmen.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, though. The evening is young, and the snowman scenario is still very much on the table.

Culprit of about ninety percent of your nightmarish visions and drawings— Sylus has been unnervingly silent. You meet eyes with him, an inherent mistrust in your gaze. The success of this sweet, humble Christmas Eve hinges on you figuring out what he’s here for. His agenda. His ulterior motives.

What does he want from tonight? He smirks at you. You’re vaguely competent, and you can figure it out without him holding your hand, can’t you?

That reminds you of something. “Zayne.” You jostle your co-host by his arm. “Do the last rule!”

You’re excited about the last rule.

Zayne isn’t; he hesitates. “The last rule…” He rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s only applicable to you, Sylus.”

Sylus is now also excited about the last rule. You can tell from the way his lips part, for a second, like he wants to tell you just how flattered he is you spend so much of your time thinking about him.

You put Zayne out of his misery, tearing the final strip of paper away from the pad. The paper flutters to the ground like a very plain snowflake, and you wiggle your fingers, adorning the final rule with a touch of pizazz:

No smirking, sass, or general smugness.

A corner of Sylus’s mouth lifts. “Believe it or not, kitten, your little point system doesn’t scare me.”

You pick up the pen and score a mark under his name.

“Oh no,” he mutters lifelessly.

“Sarcasm!” Rafayel coughs.

You’re well ahead of him, already turning to make another mark. “Gods,” you hear Sylus grimace, not much more than a whisper, “you’re such a boy scout.”

There’s a snort from Rafayel. “Sorry, say that again? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of you totally getting kicked out of here.”

“Sarcasm,” Sylus says.

“Wait, I didn’t mean— no!”

You giggle as you issue Rafayel’s first strike, and he groans behind you, slumping down in his seat. When you turn back around, his face is buried in his hands.

Sylus is smirking again, but the expression drops the moment he senses your gaze. You both know what’s at stake here. Back in the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran are lamenting the fact that you’ve stolen their leader— it’s not very Christmassy of you, after all. There were a lot of things they wanted to do with him. Snowball fights, presents, and a heist that required disguises: Santa and his two, hard-working elves. They already have the suit, custom-made for him.

So here is the big, bad boss of Onychinus, hiding in your apartment, and definitely not smirking.

You pop the lid back onto your pen, then post it into your pocket like you’re holstering an all-powerful weapon. That’s one point to you and Zayne, and zero points to Sylus, thank you very much.

…

“What are you doing?”

Sylus sighs, evading a furious lilac gaze while he focuses on the task at hand. Freshly escaped from you and the doctor’s terrifying lecture, he’s making the most of his liberty.

“What I am doing,” he mumbles, tying string around a sprig of mistletoe, “is between me and our charming host. Run along, little artist.” He tightens the knot. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Rafayel crosses his arms, his eyes dark. “You’re cheating.”

“Ha.” Sylus spares him a glance out of pity. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

He definitely is, but Sylus doesn’t have time for this game. He can hear you in your bedroom, rooting around for the phone charger you’d vanished in search of. Your door isn’t closed, but it’s closed enough. You can’t see him. He can’t see you. What a perfect opportunity.

“Give it to me,” Rafayel says— an interruption that warrants a roll of the eyes.

“No.”

“Give it—“ the artist starts again, then makes a grab for the mistletoe. Now that’s jealousy. He could incinerate the plant with a click of his fingers, but no, he wants it. Covets it.

Sylus chuckles quietly, his arm stretching up: holding the mistletoe out of an ever-more desperate reach.

To Rafayel’s credit, he persists. He goes up on his toes, tugging at the older man’s sleeve to try and drag the mistletoe closer. The plant evaporates in a swirl of dark energy the second he succeeds. It materialises behind Sylus’s back, in his other hand, and Rafayel realises instantly. He tries to stretch his arms around him. To take it from him.

“Absolutely not!”

Sylus’s fingers are suddenly empty. Mistletoe-less. He turns reluctantly, still holding Rafayel back.

You stand at your wide-open door, one hand on your hips and the other clutching his confiscated item. You’re frowning. Tapping your foot. Your lips are pursed adorably.

“What a coincidence, kitten,” Sylus smiles, and behind him, Rafayel pokes his tongue out, overcome with nausea. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Clearly.” You jostle the mistletoe, looking… disappointed? Huh. “Never thought I’d catch you indulging an old cliche.”

Sylus shrugs charmingly, like a cat performing a leisurely stretch after toppling a vase from a very high shelf.

“Give me the rest of it,” you command.

“Hmm?”

“The back-up mistletoe, Sy. I’m not an idiot.”

Sylus scoffs, but you do have him wrapped oh so prettily around your finger. He rolls his neck, stalling. If giving up were a slope, he would already be a heap at the bottom of it, but he doesn’t really mind. Three more sprigs of mistletoe appear from thin air, dropping into your open hands.

“Honestly, Sylus,” you groan, stepping past him. Then you thrust the plants to the artist’s chest. “Burn these, Raf.” You’re dusting your hands down as you walk away.

Sylus frowns. That’s neither ideal nor part of the plan.

Rafayel is looking at him, telling him with gloating silence that there’s no playing diplomat, here— no negotiating the return of the hostages. That bridge has been— rather fittingly— burned. The mistletoe turns slowly to ash: darkened by licks of flame that curl with the eager spite of their master’s lips.

It would be beautiful if it wasn’t so damned inconvenient. When the fire’s had its fun, one sprig of mistletoe remains, rich green and ivory— wholly untouched. You’re across the room, talking to Zayne, so Rafayel smirks in triumph. Tucks his prize into his pocket.

Sylus’s heart sinks with it, but he still smiles back.

…

Rafayel isn’t looking too good.

Well, the Rafayel is looking fine, but your Rafayel? Not so much. You steal a glance at the artist across the cluttered kitchen island; he’s sat, leaning, propped up on his elbows, his eyes glazed— he’s clearly away with the fishies. He catches you staring. Gives you a wink.

You glance down at the gingerbread man you’ve been decorating: the blue-pink of his iced eyes, and the mess of purple hair, at least three shades too dark. Oh, gods— probably a million shades too dark through the gaze of a Lemurian. At least the outfit is cute? You’ve recreated Rafayel’s signature cardigan. The plaid pattern isn’t quite straight, but that was a… deliberate choice. This is your interpretation of his cardigan, and you wanted it to reflect its owner. A little all over the place, but still, you love it. Even when it’s coming undone, it keeps you warm.

“Would you like to go next?”

Zayne is talking to you, smiling at you. He was the first to reveal his gingerbread creation: a miniature Xavier that was surprisingly true to life. Your hunting partner had almost glowed with delight, while you were dark with jealousy. The biscuit sits before you all, boasting details that could only be achieved with an exceedingly steady hand.

Worse: Rafayel’s gingerbread is next to it, stupidly, predictably perfect. It’s Zayne. It’s really Zayne, from the sweep of black hair to the hazel eyes; how on earth did he manage to make that colour? The tiny doctor is dressed in his lab coat, sporting his badge and a pocketful of even tinier pens and medical instruments. There’s… shading? Ugh, you can see the creases in the fabric.

“Umm… sure, I can go next,” you mumble.

It was just your luck, pulling Rafayel’s name out of that hat. Sheepishly, you move aside the cookbook you’d stood to guard your project from any prying eyes. Your gingerbread is nudged forwards.

“That’s me!” Rafayel exclaims.

“Yeah…” you confirm half-heartedly. “Sorry, I know it’s not great, but I—”

Lack the skill of a celebrity artist, or the steady hands of a cardiac surgeon? You have no idea which exact pool of self-pity your sentence was set on drowning within, but it doesn’t matter. Rafayel has plucked your gingerbread up for a closer look, and his smile is enormous. “This is amazing!”

“You don’t have to—”

“That’s my cardigan!” He’s crashing the pity party again. “And look at my eyes— the colours! This little guy is so handsome, yeah? You really did me justice, cutie. Look at him!”

He holds the gingerbread up to his face, trying to match its two-dimensional grin. He looks around for affirmation, and it’s just his luck, because is a single man at this table ever going to insult your hard work?

“The eyes are amazing,” Xavier enthuses. “Like the sky at sunset. Who knew my partner was so talented?”

“I did,” Rafayel chirps happily.

Xavier frowns. “No, it was rhetori— never mind.” He smiles at you. Rolls with it. “I knew too, by the way.”

“As did I,” Zayne adds.

Everyone looks at Sylus, who shrugs a shoulder and says, “It was up for debate.”

“Can we please move onto the next person?” you press. This is all too much attention. “Sylus, can you… please?”

He does like it when you beg, but he likes it even more when he can play knight in shining armour. “My pleasure, sweetie.”

For a man whose creative side is mostly indulged by vintage gun restorations, he reveals his gingerbread with a staggering amount of confidence. It’s placed at the centre of the kitchen island, where you all stare down at it. Its hair is snow-white, and its eyes: blood-red.

“That’s…” Zayne begins.

“That’s you, Sylus!” you take-over, voice shrill with betrayal. “You were supposed to say something if you picked yourself! And you— wait, what are…?” There are distinct lines over the gingerbread’s midriff. It dawns on you: “Are those abs?!”

Sylus shrugs again.

“They so are!” You snatch up the biscuit, standing to wave it in Sylus’s face like a crime-scene photo. “Where’s his shirt, huh?”

“He lost it.”

“Bullshit!” you snap. This gingerbread competition had come with its own set of rules, one of which was very clearly: “Nothing obscene! I said nothing obscene, Sylus!”  

He leans away from you with a tut. “It’s tasteful, sweetie. The artist will tell you.”

“The artist is staying out of this,” Rafayel murmurs, off to your side.

Sylus crosses his arms, regardless, as though his case has been made. You cross your arms too.

“Can I show you my gingerbread now?” Xavier asks, and his tone is deceivingly soft: a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back.

You release the tension in your body with a sigh, then set the gingerbread down so you can’t throw it at Sylus’s un-smug face (which he’s been very careful about.) “Of course, Xavier,” you smile, slinking back onto your stool. You can throw something at Sylus later. “Ooh, is it me? It has to be me, right?”

Xavier chuckles awkwardly. “It’s you. I don’t think it’s very good, though.”

“Show me!” you insist.

The final cookbook is removed, and Xavier unveils his hard work. You clamp a hand to your mouth.

You don’t have a single word for what you’re looking at— only laughter, and you can’t let yourself laugh, no matter what. If that gingerbread is you? Then it’s a you who’s been torn apart by Wanderers, at least seven consecutive times. Your face is a swirl of colours and features— you think Xavier must have tried to wipe it off to start again, more than once, but it hasn’t worked.

The gingerbread has been broken, too. Three of the four limbs, to be exact, and that you could forgive, but… did he have to use dark red icing to glue them back on? It drips out of the joins messily, almost making you wince.

Everyone is silent.

“A perfect likeness,” says Sylus.

You burst out laughing, and the moment you do, Rafayel’s right there with you. Even Sylus caves— it’s one of the most sincere laughs you’ve ever heard from him. There are tears in your eyes; you can’t help it. Zayne is the strongest of you, but even the tight line of his mouth quivers. He’s biting his lip.

But it’s fine. Xavier is laughing, too. “I said it wasn’t very good!”

“Xavier!” you wheeze. You can’t even look at him. Your stomach hurts. “What… what happened to me?!”

“What do you mean?” he practically giggles.

“What do I mean?” you repeat, and it tips you into another breathless bout of laughter. You go to point at the gingerbread— all the explanation you need— but it almost kills you. You really can’t breathe. After half a minute, you try again. “I look like I’ve been in an accident!”

“Here,” Rafayel grins, and he slides the Doctor Zayne gingerbread over to poor, suffering gingerbread you.

“Aww!” you smile, having finally caught your breath.

Wordlessly, Zayne retrieves his likeness— pulling it away from yours. You frown at him, as confused and wounded as Xavier apparently imagines you. “Even I have my limits,” the doctor shrugs.

That’s it. You’re gone again, your sides aching as your whole body shakes with laughter. It’s too much. Gods, it’s too much. You’re gonna need another minute.

…

“I can’t believe you made you.”

It’s been fifteen or so minutes, and you toy with Sylus’s gingerbread counterpart, pinching his hands between your thumbs and forefingers— making him walk (well, penguin waddle) across the kitchen island.

“Believe it, sweetie,” Sylus huffs with a smile.

“Is this really how you see yourself?”

Before you can walk the gingerbread any further, his creator plucks him up by his head, away from your reaching fingers. “It’s how I think you should see me,” he chuckles. He holds the gingerbread out to you. Wiggles it. “For your eyes only, kitten.”

“Except the other guys saw it—”

“Shhhh, shh shh!” In his haste to silence you, he almost pushes the gingerbread to your lips.

You glare at him. Complain from behind it: “Get your shirtless abs out of my face, Sylus.”

“Make me.”

You snatch the gingerbread, pinning it down on the counter. “Keep pushing your luck, Sy. Wanna see what’ll happen?”

He absolutely does, and his eyes glint with mirth as you reach for a near-empty bowl of crimson icing. You scrape some of it up with a discarded teaspoon, then let it drip generously over his gingerbread. It takes a few, long seconds to really cover him in it. To make him look as fatally tragic as gingerbread you.

“Here,” you say, dropping the spoon in a bowl with a satisfied clink. You hold out the gingerbread. “This’ll be you when I’m done with you.”

Sylus regards it for a moment, his eyebrow quirked. Then his eyes find your gingerbread likeness. “Want to see what you’ll look like when I’m done with you?”

His hand goes out for the bowl of red icing, except… it goes past the bowl of red icing, and lands on a tube of white icing instead. He holds it up with a smile.

“Inappropriate.”

The tube is swept out of his fingers, and he blinks at the empty space, legitimately surprised.

“It was snow, doctor,” he remarks bitterly, once he’s recovered from the second ambush of the evening. He glances over his shoulder. “From a snowball fight?”

“Sure it was,” Zayne mutters, already turning back to the bowl he’s washing in the sink.

Sylus is frowning, affronted, but the expression softens when you’re filling his gaze again. You: your hands on your mouth, so close to spilling laughter. “Oooooh,” you tease with a secretive sing-song voice, “you got in trouble!”

He wrinkles his nose like ‘trouble’ is an insult. It sets you off sniggering uncontrollably.

“What did I miss?”

It’s Xavier, back from the lounge.

“Nothing,” Sylus answers.

“He got in trouble!” you counteract with a not-at-all quiet whisper.  

You earn a glare from the criminal, and a little laugh from the hunter. “Third-strike trouble?” the latter enquires. He might have handcuffs on stand-by; it wouldn’t surprise you.

“Not yet,” you grin cheerfully.  

Zayne sets a plate on the drying rack. “Give it time.”

…

“I don’t think we have enough, sweetie,” Sylus quips, peeking over the stack of blankets you’ve piled high on his arms. 

What was it Rafayel said? High risk, high reward? You mercifully chuckle. Your arms are wrapped around three, plush cushions— the last of your sleepover supplies. Snacks? Are ready. Guests? Haven’t killed each-other yet. You toe open your bedroom door, shouldering the rest of the way through with your missing puzzle pieces of luxury.

“Oh, nice!” someone exclaims from the kitchen. Xavier is watching you, starry-eyed, and his cheeks are full; he’s midway through a cookie.

Sylus steps through the door behind you, issuing a faint noise of disgust. He sounds like he’s being attacked by a bug, so you turn around, ready to leap to the rescue. He’s stood within the door frame, eyes cast upwards to where a sprig of mistletoe hangs on the end of a string. It’s swaying gently; he must have caught his head on it. You frown, lips parted. He was with you the whole time you were looting your bedroom. When did he…? How did he…?

He looks down at you, the mistletoe still hovering above him. You raise an eyebrow, waiting for the inevitable joke, or the even more inevitable invitation. 

“I…’ he starts gingerly, “I didn’t…” 

Oh. He’s just as confused as you are, and it’s… really cute. He’s lost for words— the man who came here with not one, but four sprigs of mistletoe. The man who threatened your gingerbread with white icing. The man who’s spent the entire evening thinking about how he wants to be close to you.

Sylus laughs, but it’s full of nervousness. “It’s alright,” he says, “you don’t have to—”

You tilt him towards you, your hand on his shoulder and cushions around your feet. “Merry Christmas, Sy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It’s warm on your lips.

His eyes flutter closed. “Merry Christmas,” he breathes, barely more than a whisper. 

You hum contentedly as you pull away from him. When his eyes reopen, they’re warm with a nostalgia you cannot explain, but you can feel, too— so inexplicably. His gaze is blood-red, but it makes you think of flowers. 

What a funny feeling. It strikes you a lot, nowadays, and not just with the man in front of you. 

Speaking of the others, you glance towards your lounge. Xavier is telling Zayne a story, and Rafayel is watching you from over the back of the sofa— turning away when you spot him. That’s one mystery solved. You collect the cushions from the floor, sparing Sylus a smile before you meander back to your party. The coffee table’s a banquet of sweet, sugary snacks, so you carefully skirt past it.

Xavier’s hands grab at air. You laugh and toss him a cushion. “Thanks,” he grins. 

“Here— your favourite.” Zayne is pointing at your freshly-filled mug, and you grin your own thank you as you settle down next to him. 

Sylus soon arrives too, handing out blankets, and for all the evening’s animosity, he gets a grateful smile for each. He sits down next to Xavier, and it’s odd, you know? You’ve slain Wanderers, saved lives with every person around you. You’ve seen them bleed and kill.

They’re all wrapping themselves up, like snuggly little Christmas presents. Xavier’s managed to collect another cushion— from Zayne, maybe?— and he’s practically building a fort on his side of the couch. Some of it infringes on Sylus’s space, and you notice him notice, but he doesn’t say a word. Oblivious, tucked under two blankets, Xavier’s already looking sleepy. 

Someone’s making less of an effort to get comfortable. On the other side of you, Rafayel sits, uncharacteristically quiet. He hasn’t met your eyes since you sat down. You remember him, watching you under the mistletoe from across the room, and the thought has you leaning in closer. 

“That was sweet of you,” you whisper, even though he disobeyed you. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs.

But he does, so you kiss his cheek, ever so fondly, with that funny feeling in your chest again. It’s the first time, but it doesn’t strike you as such. Uncharted waters, a foreign land— when have I been here before?

Rafayel has relaxed: sunken deep into the sofa and the security of your touch. You smile, pulling his blanket up higher around him— tighter around him— until he’s as much of a cocoon as everyone else. His lips curve with a smile of surrender, ever-willingly captured. Silly fish. 

You draw away from him, readjusting in your seat until you’re cuddled up next to Zayne. You don’t see the wink Rafayel shoots Sylus, or the look of begrudging respect in the latter’s red eyes. 

“Are you comfortable?” Zayne asks, head angling towards yours. 

Co-host to co-host. “Yeah.” You snuggle closer to him. “This is kinda perfect, isn’t it?” He feels cold, despite his Sylus-issued blanket, so you lend him part of yours.

“No,” he confers softly, distractedly. 

“No?”

“No.” He gives you a look, and you know it as intimately as the chill of his hands and the warmth of his heart. His ‘I know something that you don’t’ look. Sure enough, he says: “I think it’s missing something.” 

On the other sofa, Xavier is beaming at you, having caught onto your conversation. It’s suspicious— harmless conspiracy, surprise-party sort of suspicious, but your pulse still picks up. 

“Close your eyes,” Zayne instructs. 

And you do, without question. Darkness, yes, but you’re under his care, aren’t you? There’s no anxiousness in your excitement, just trust for the man who was looking out for you long before he was your doctor. Your hands are over your eyes and you’re younger, again, playing hide-and-seek, again.

Zayne’s is a familiarity you can place. A nostalgia built on memories, not reveries.

Something icy touches your hand, then melts without any resistance. 

“Open,” Zayne prompts, leaning against you to stir you. 

Your apartment has changed again. The lights are all out, save for the fairy lights. The spectrum of colours flicker from the walls and the tree, catching on tiny, white specs in the air. Snowflakes are drifting down, impossibly. Falling, dancing— maybe a bit of both. You look up and some land on your face, cold with their kisses. You giggle in delight. 

Everyone’s gaze is on the ceiling: sapphire, emerald, amethyst, ruby. It ought to be dark. Instead, an entire night sky fills the space above you, scattered with thousands of stars. Every pinprick is deliberate. Meticulously placed. There are constellations— infinite patterns that transcend every life you might’ve lead, and every life you’ll ever lead (if you believe in that sort of thing.)

Xavier glances at you, and you forgo the spell of his masterpiece so that you can glance back. Snowflakes are in his hair, dusting him with sparkles. He smiles in a way you think could defy lifetimes, too. 

“This is… really something,” Sylus says, and there’s not a hint of sarcasm. 

It’s everything. The stars, brighter for darkness. The snow, only novel in warmth. These things don’t always work— they’ll undo each-other, overpower each-other, but there’s an ultimate balance, in-between every conflict. An occasional harmony, and it’s… 

Perfect. 

Rafayel scoots close to you. “Was this authorised?” he whispers. 

You look over to the point board, where there are first strikes beneath Zayne and Xavier’s names, and you don’t know how long they’ve been there. 

“No,” you laugh tenderly. “No, it wasn’t.”

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hazbin Hotel characters react to your stims

(I'm doing my personal favorite characters, so if there are others you wanna see, ask me. They may also be slightly OOC.)

Vox

You can't convince me this man doesn't also have ADHD. He's just spent decades masking it, as well as most of himself, to present a perfect image. Probably heard the term as it got more well known but didn't really connect the dots until meeting you.

He fidgets a lot, tapping his claws, bouncing his legs, can't sit in a fucking chair properly.

Doesn't realize he's overstimulated and burnt out from multi tasking dozens of screens until you point it out.

Once he's aware of it you help him manage his work better so he can be less stimulated and tense. You buy him proper fidget toys to mess with and he makes himself some top of the line bass boosted sound canceling headphones. He gives you a pair, too. When you're both alone, you look up songs with loaded bass in 8d just to watch each other twitch and involuntarily move your head with the sound.

That's about the extent of the conscious level of unmasking he'll do though. He gets self conscious.

But, he adores the fact you're comfortable enough to stim around him. Or in public. He can and will violently end people for even giving you dirty looks for stimming in public.

If you show excitement and joy over being around someone through happy noms he will literally get heart eyes. Just be careful where you bite him because it may lead to something else.

He's happy to let you stim, which means tricking him into doing it more.

He remembers and sub consciously absorbs your echolalias or any word replacements you use. If you do a lot of call and response vocals he learns them. (Call and response is basically when you memorize a sound with two people. One calls the other responds. You can just say both parts yourself ((I do)) but it's more satisfying with someone else).

If you do happy flappies this man will short circuit. (He will laugh if you accidentally smack yourself though).

If you squeal and kick you may give him a heart attack. He thought you were hurt or something. He gets used to it eventually but it still startles him.

Vox is also a chatter box so you two can info dump about special interests to each other for hours. Neither one of you expects the other to remember details, but the fact you don't tell each other to shut up and are content to do your own thing while listening to your partner/friend gush is enough.

He has long since forced himself into strict routines so if you struggle to get tasks started or get distracted in the middle of them he's understanding but stern. Tends to cause more harm than good because he talks down to you unintentionally.

If you're a visual/hands on learner he also gets frustrated with you for wasting hours trying to figure it out yourself and getting yourself upset instead of just letting him do it for you. You get into a lot of fights about it at first. He gets better when he sees it genuinely prevents you from enjoying things or trying new things and that you just kinda default to defeated and helpless. He didn't mean to make you feel dumb, he just doesn't understand why you wouldn't want help. Until the tables turn and as he's getting worked up over something he can't figure out and you just stare at him.

He finally snaps at you what the hell you're doing and you smirk "need help? Why don't I just do it for you and you watch? Come on, you've been struggling for an hour, stop being so stubborn and just let me do it. I'll show you later, it's not hard." You feed his own lines back at him and his stomach drops.

"Oh....that feels...mmmm. Nope! Don't like that. Ok. Won't happen again, doll."

Realistically if you work with him and you make mouth noises a lot (bird whistles, tongue clicks, humming, random shrieks) he will get annoyed. It's distracting him and sometimes you don't realize you're doing it and mess up anything he tries to record. The first few times he snaps at you and it causes problems (hello rejection sensitive dysphoria) but eventually he learns how to better talk to you/communicate without accidentally convincing you he hates you.

Alastor

Probably on the spectrum himself, but it also could just be his anti-social habits. Either way he finds you entertaining and your bouts of sporadic energy and gremlin like behavior don't phase him. He's been dealing with Niffty for years.

If you sing or hum a lot to get work done, or listen to music he's all for it. But if you're the type of ADHD where work fast music=horny and bass he'll insist you wear headphones. If you're content to listen to swing (he'll compromise with electroswing) or jazz, he'll play the radio for you.

He doesn’t even care if you're a good singer or not, he just likes seeing you get into it. Will show off by singing it better than you though.

If you're someone who picks your fingers or skin, he'll slap your hands. You bleeding is making him hungry and distracting him. He'll find you something else to do with your hands. Same with nail biting.

He tends to pull his hair when stressed so if you stim with your hair he gets it and unless it's harmful (eating/pulling) he'll leave it, but if you're like him he's either cutting your hair short or braiding it.

Will die before admitting it but thinks you flapping, hopping, clapping, squealing is the most adorable thing ever. Also, laughs at you if you smack yourself, though.

Doesn't understand your memes so half your echolalia go over his head and he just kinda stares at you.

Scolds you for not sitting in the chair properly.

Smiles, nods, and occasionally says "that's nice dear" when you info dump. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't listen to something he's not interested in for that long.

Mouth noises make his eye twitch but so long as they don't interrupt him, he won't scold you.

He understands you're not dumb but he also doesn't have the patience to help your or wait for you to get things done so he does them for you and tells you stop pouting when you get upset with him.

He likes you enough to not reject your touch and enjoys being in your space, but please refrain from happy biting the cannibal. He will bite back and it's less cute when he does.

Lucifer

The original AUDHD. You two chatter for hours about special interests.

He makes you stim toys.

You two do the adhd laugh so hard over dumb shit you gotta hold onto and smack each other thing. You both wind up on the floor.

Literally would never talk down to you or trigger your RSD. He's spent centuries feeling like he's constantly annoying, dumb, and struggling to time manage and do tasks.

Is equally fed up with people offering to do things for him because he can do it he just needs help getting started. The more you ask if he wants you to do it or when he's gonna do it the harder it is. So you two just sorta hobble together a system for getting shit done.

It's not perfect but if it gets outta hand he can just snap his fingers and fix it.

He happy flaps with his hands and wings and constantly knocks you or other shit over. It embarrasses him but you're in love. You two sometimes hold hands to do the happy bounce squeal, shaking each other.

He initiates happy bites more than you do. Honestly you both start looking like chew toys.

You two echolali all the time and share new ones you find. If you ever can't find each other, just shout one of your current vocal stims and he'll respond.

Literally, the definition of choas couple.

[olderthannetfic]

I accidentally killed my own desire to write, and I need some advice. To be really blunt about it, what's the point of writing? When I would spend lots of time laboring over making a good story with a plot and characters who were in-character and connecting all the dots narratively so payoffs were satisfying, my reward was dead silence and virtually no clicks. I posted some mindless smut to my side account one day and got more hits in a day than most of my other works combined got in a year. I know, I know. "Write for ~*~yourself~*~" is the common response. It's the "be yourself!" of writing. It's supposed to be a magical phrase that'll make everything okay. But... I don't like knowing that something I spend months working on won't be read by anyone while something I write in a car while bored got thousands of clicks. I don't like making something I'm proud of and then no one ever looks at it. That's not fun for me. It's not fulfilling.

For a solid decade, I've tried to ignore how the level of interactivity in fandom is falling. Fewer comments. Fewer kudos. No comments in the bookmarks. You put your tumblr and Discord in the AN and get a handful of asks and one person who adds you, talks to you twice and then ghosts you. Most of the comments are "well, actuallys", made even more annoying by them being wrong as opposed to actually correcting an error. I avoid fandom drama, wank, and infighting. I don't engage with things I know will make me unhappy. I try to be happy over in my own little corner. I comment on every single work I read. I want people to enjoy fandom. I used to.

Some dumb smut I wrote in 40 minutes gets five times the hits of the writing I'm most proud of, and it gets it in just under three months. I am not a great smut writer. I haven't stumbled onto an incredible talent I had that makes it so the issue is that I'm so amazing my smut brings all the boys to the yard. People just don't like what I write and put effort into. It's very likely that despite 20 years of writing fic, I suck at writing. And people enjoy my writing most when they don't have to put up with anything substantial and can just skip to the sex.

So for the last eight months, when I write, I just sort of give up. Close the Word doc without saving. No one will read this. No one cares about this. There is no fan eagerly awaiting every update like I await updates from my favorite authors. There's not even someone saying, "update soon!" Close the Word doc. Delete old WIPs. There's no point. I do not tell stories worth reading. I used to. In the FFN days people genuinely enjoyed my work. I'd never have had an opportunity to do the 'I won't update until I get 3 reviews' thing because getting that many on a chapter was usually something I'd do overnight. Post before bed. Wake up. Read the reviews before school. I peaked in high school, I guess.

And now I'm just sort of lost. I still have lots of ideas. Ideas for fics fall into my head all the time. That's never been a problem. What I don't have is any motivation to write them. What's the point of writing? If no one else is reading, I guess the point would be so I could go back and read my own story and have fun with it. Write for myself. But I can review the story and have fun with it in my head without writing it down. It's substantially faster and more importantly, isn't incredibly depressing.

So, at the risk of definitely being calld the second-coming of True Art Anon or a troll or validation-seeking or haha mentally ill haha... what's the point of writing?

--

Okay, so write porn in a car while you're bored.

Look, you can whine all you want about my response, but what you've written here is blatantly about depression.

Lots of people in fandom are still interacting. And no, it isn't just on fics that are objectively written to some pro fiction standard or whatever. Teenagers still breathlessly review poorly spelled cracky masterpieces about this year's big anime and so forth.

Yes, there may be reasons why you in particular are in a slump when it comes to fandom friendships or "plz update" comments. We can talk about that. But this ask is all gloom about fandom in general. That's not realism: that's you having a problem.

--

As for why a person should write: because the actual hours you spend doing the writing are fun.

If they aren't pleasurable in some way, find another hobby.

--

But if you want an answer to the age old "Why did my 5 minute fic get 1000000x more asspats", I've seen meta about this for literally decades.

The most likely reason is that the fic we write quickly and without much thought often feels fresher and more fun. The things we labor over endlessly can feel overworked. Even in cases where they don't, they're often heavier subject matter or more niche subject matter. On top of all that, we just care more, so even a high level of feedback doesn't really feel like enough for the effort and care we put in.

--

Do you really need me to tell you why you don't feel the same as in high school when things were fresh and new?

Go read up on combatting burnout or dealing with post-college anxiety or managing stress in a dead-end job in your 30s or finding meaning in your 40s or whatever is going on.

Everyone goes through fallow periods in fandom and in life.

Feeling reinvigorated has to do with internal factors and some general life circumstance stuff. It doesn't have that much to do with number of kudos. That's just the surface trigger for a mood that was already there.

[niennawept]

I want to combine my two favorite unhinged fan theory factories into one:

Gil-galad is Adar's son

Okay, now that I have your attention, let's go on a journey that starts with two things:

Thing the first: I really love people's unhinged theories that Adar is a canon character. I don't think he is; I think he's just some guy that Rings of Power made up but it amuses me to no end when people come up with convoluted theories to make him a guy from canon.

Thing the second: The Silmarillion fandom has a long-standing in-joke about who Gil-galad's father really is. Christopher Tolkien told us that it was Fingon in the Silmarillion and later regretted it, because there was so much confusion in his father's notes on the subject and so many different candidates. Cue all kinds of cracky theories of who Gil galad's gil-gal-dad is. I would like to submit mine.

How does this theory work?

Well it's quite simple actually. Adar and some elven thrall lady hit it off in Angband and have a kid together kinda by accident through weird Angband-based magic. That is a problem because now she's got this like elf-looking baby that has black blood and also Angband is no place for an elf-looking baby. This could get them both into extremely capital 'b' - Bad - trouble.

So, Adar takes that baby and he sneaks into an elven camp and he does that old movie trope where he leaves the baby on the doorstep and then makes a noise so that that people inside the house will hear it. Only this time, it's a war tent and the person inside is Fingon.

Fingon picks up this adorable baby and the baby kind of looks like him and he's like well - I could adopt this baby right? So he goes back to a fort with this baby and Fingolfin takes one look at his son and takes one look at that baby and says to himself "my very gay son did probably did not produce this baby. However, it is probably the only grandchild I will get from him and he is my heir." So welcome home, son and grandson.

Is there any evidence?

Exhibit A: The GIF set that started it all. Look at the similarities! Connect the dots! And thank you, @fukutomichi, for starting off this crazy unhinged theory.

Exhibit B: During Season 2, Episode 1 "Elven Kings Under the Sky", there is a moment where the camera lingers on Adar while Gil-galad is singing his song. Now they actually probably did that because they wanted to remind the audience that Adar was formerly an elf, but this is an unhinged theory, so we're going to ignore the obvious reason they did that and assume that they're trying to connect them for some reason. Yes, that's right. They're trying to tell us that Gil-galad is Adar's son.

Exhibit C: Their their armor matches. The gorget that Gil-galad is wearing in Season 1, Episode 5 "Partings" is a perfect match to the river pattern that Adar is wearing on his armor. Coincidence? Normally, I'd say yes, but in this unhinged theory, I think not.

Exhibit D: In one version of the story, Gil-galad is his mother-name. Is that because his father-name is not elven? Is it because it's potentially uruk in origin?! And don't come at me with that Ereinion nonsense."Scion of kings?"* Sounds like someone's trying to underline a point there, eh? Almost like they're worried people won't think he's kingly enough.

Exhibit E: Gil-galad, despite ample time and opportunity, never marries or produces an heir. Why? Because he knows. He knows that if he does, some one will be close enough to learn his deep, dark secret: he has black blood and his child might too.

Are there holes in this theory? Absolutely; all the evidence is circumstantial at best. Do I care? Nope. This is for the pure, unhinged fun of it. Anyhow, if you need me I'll be headcanoning this for the rest of the run of Rings of Power until they show me Gil-galad's blood, mmmkay?

Thank you to @hellofeanor, @fishing4stars, @baddybaddyadardaddy for spitballing with me.

[moretheta]

i get the feeling there are a lot of people here who haven't read / don't remember the detailed account of the kurta massacre from kurapika's backstory in chapter zero.

Transcript: Several years prior to the 287th Hunter Exam, the Phantom Troupe approached the Kurta Clan for their valuable Scarlet Eyes and massacred all 128 villagers. It's reported that family members were made to face one another and stabbed multiple times, with their heads severed while they were still alive. Pure clan members had their eyes gouged out, while those who married into the clan had their eyes squashed and sustained more brutal wounds than the others. The adult males had the most wounds, but it's assumed that these were sustained during a struggle before they were captured. Those who were not related by blood to the clan were said to be mutilated in order to set an example. After this, the heads of those with Scarlet Eyes were all severed successively. Since the scarlet color is caused by anger and makes the eyes more valuable, it's reported that the Troupe members mutilated the children in front of their parents in order to intensify the scarlet color. Lastly, a message was left behind that read: "We'll accept anything you leave here, but don't ever take anything away from us."

This chapter is the foundation of various theories involving Sheila, the Phantom Troupe, Meteor City & The Bum Incident, the Kurta DC connection, etc. that get circulated but IMO are still not widely understood. Most of these theories (some more compelling than others) aim to prove that PT didn't really do it- perhaps they were manipulated by Sheila, or transmasc Pariston, or Tserriednich, or whoever- or that the Kurta secretly deserved it (ew. stop with that). I'm not against shedding more light on those events or adding some kind of Togashi twist to them, but I think it's necessary to understand the immense weight of the Phantom Troupe's crimes before we can talk about any form of redemption. Personally, I find the Troupe to be a fascinating, endearing, and sympathetic group of characters (some more than others... I love you forever Paku), but that doesn't mean I'm about to say outright that they must be innocent or redeemable.

I can understand the dissonance between the Troupe we've seen and the Troupe we've heard horrorstories about. But I think that dissonance is literally integral to their characters- you're supposed to find it hard to reconcile. The characters within the story find it hard to reconcile (the banality of evil, etc). Some fans will lean on that behavioral/moral inconsistency as proof of innocence, which kind of simplifies the whole thing in a way that does their story a disservice. Because sometimes people that do awful things can be affable and charming, have things that they care about and people they love. And, none of that stops them from getting up to evil shit; it's the paradoxical nature of human morality.

That's not to say that there can't be more to the story. However, I believe that if you're trying to show the dots not lining up, it's better to point out how the brutality & mechanics of the killings mimics that of Sarasa's (see chapter 395), and what that says about the original members willingness to partake in them, rather than relying on the "but they seem nice!" defense. Because again, even if someone like Tserriednich paid them off or manipulated them or whatever- those were very intentional killings. That was a meticulous fucking massacre. (So yeah, it's understandable why Kurapika was so fucking pissed when Uvogin said he didn't remember the Kurta at all, when he presumably spent hours torturing kids in front of their parents so that the boss could get the prettiest eyeballs possible.)

And I'm really truly not here to dunk on anyone who likes the bad guys (i once more profess my love for Pakunoda), IMO it's just important to get the full scope of things. If you're going to support Spider Rights, you should be able to acknowledge Spider Wrongs.

[layraket]

Day 2 - Trust Issues

Character(s): Warriors (LU)

Words: 862

Summary: Even if Wild is a great cook, some habits can’t go away so easily

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Part 2 is in Day 23

-

During the war there wasn’t space to form relationships and make friends. It doesn’t mean that the Captain didn’t really had some, at all! It’s just that it wasn’t the main focus.

He talked with the soldiers when needed, to give orders or make sure that they didn’t lose a lot of them. If he was distant at the start, it went worse by time passed.

A group of soldiers were with the enemy, betraying them in the middle of a mission and bringing a lot of problems. They lost a big part of their army that day.

Since then, he distrusts almost anyone that dares to come across his path. The only people that he felt like were worth of trusting completely were the princess, Impa and these two kids that came to aid them during the war.

Attempts to try food poisoning him started to be frequent, even after the end of the War of Eras. There were still people out there that wanted him dead.

When he joined the Chain at first he played safe, not giving them almost any information about who he is in case they were a bunch of assassins trying to trick him. After a while he came to a conclusion: No assassin would be as stupid and self-sacrificing as them. He loved them as brothers, but sometimes he wonders if the Zeldas would share some of their wisdom to keep them alive.

Something that almost all of them share is that cooking is not something that the goddesses bothered to gift them with. Wild is the only one who seems to know what is he doing. Until they found him they were eating his cans of military food and some dry meat. When they tasted the champion’s cooking nobody wanted to eat anything from him or anybody else.

“Today’s dinner will be some stew” Wild had said when they stablished camp, already taking out of his sheikah thing the ingredients and a pot.

He never had problems with eating anything cooked by the champion, in fact he was glad that he made food for them. It’s just, some old habits don’t go away too easily.

“Hey Wolfie, can you smell this really quick?” He put the bowl closer to the wolf’s nose, this one taking a sniff and giving a friendly bark “Alright, thanks buddy” With that he started eating.

Giving some of his food to someone and see their reaction, letting Wolfie take a bite or smelling it, just waiting for the rest of them to eat their part and if they don’t get sick he can safely eat his own food.

It was wrong to distrust Wild, he knows that, the kid couldn’t do any harm to any of them even if he wanted to. But putting his guard down will mean his and his brothers safety in danger.

Tonight’s stew didn’t look different from the one two days ago, some pieces of steak with potato and peppers, nothing new. He was about to ask someone how it tasted, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“You shouldn’t be this stressed, Captain” Time–his not so little brother anymore– commented with that calm expression, he knew that behind that mask there was an energetic and chaotic kid who just wanted to have some fun whenever he could “We aren’t in the war anymore, nobody will do damage here or try to poison you”

He thought that nobody noticed his concerns, but obviously the man that he raised at some point was the only one who connected the dots.

“I’unno… I just want to make sure” He consider them all his brothers, but aside from Wind and the old man, there was nobody that he could blindly trust.

And that’s the thing, he trusts Time.

“I know, but it’ll make you good not to worry at least one time, I assure you that you’re safe” Time always searched to comfort him even during the war, little Mask slipping some sort of snack that he stole to Wars’ tent when he was upset always made him feel so much better.

Warriors hummed “You might be right…” He brought the spoon to his mouth and took a sip. It tasted the same as always.

Time kept that smile in his face, never moving his eye from him. That was a, huh, little creepy.

“How’s it?” He asked, always keeping his good eye fixate on him, taking in count all his movement.

“’s good” His mouth felt a little more rigid than usual, that was weird. He took another sip of the stew.

That’s when the world started to feel weird.

“Already tired? It’s been barely 5 minutes” That was Wild’s voice, there was nothing that made it sound different.

“I thought he would last longer, guess the O Hero of Hyrule didn’t manage well some poison” Legend. What was he talking about?

“Wait, what’s wrong with the Captain? Guys?”

Oh.

Time’s voice came again, but everything was blurry already “Just letting you know, I didn’t lie about the safe part. This is so much better than the other option”

Warriors was blinded by darkness. 

[oscconfessions]

the most frustrating part about Taco talk atm is not just that a ton of people are in a black or white mindset (even if they don’t realize it) but that they are not referencing outside of her, acknowledging a theme that some have recognized but haven’t like? connected the dots? between them? i guess? It’s the theme of how the mindset in realty shows show off the worst in people and ruins relationships. but if taco was the only instance of trying to work against that that would be pretty poor fucking theme.

why haven’t we mentioned Marshmallow recently? she literally left ii of her own volition because she noticed that very thing. and maybe not someone who connected it to the game itself, but Soap had a good point as well. She also noticed these themes happening in her team, and although she didn’t relate them to the game, it’s still important. and this is not mentioning the times we can see this theme unspoken, often with those who go along with it rather than against.

but Soap didn’t have the ability to do anything about it except her words. Marshmallow, nothing against her, really, but she just left without a word. Taco knows she’s antagonistic. Taco knows she can have leverage over people. Taco uses this semblance of power she believes she has to prove the very same point proactively. It is muddled up because of her antagonistic nature, yes, but it is the same. i’m sorry(/s) if she hurt your favorite characters feelings, or just your feeling alone. that’s not the point. her point was to show how the game changed them. she literally said so. how good you think she did- well that’s up to you- but Lightbulb did leave actively. in an environment where she felt uncomfortable and pressured and was TOLD that she can “win for her team!” despite how she feels, despite where she is mentally. in the beginning of tacos questioning you can literally take away: LB felt she had to win for her friends (as seen with PB, or she’d be a disappointment) but she felt she couldn’t do that. Tacos words rang true to Lightbulb.

Taco is antagonistic, yes. she knows and exemplifies that. Taco also partook in the theming, of ruining friendships and being a worse version of yourself, yes. she acknowledges that, she knows that. that may as well make her better for the part. as much as i’d like to address things unrelated/less related to theming on how i feel people are simplifying or straight up lying about Taco, i’ve easily gone on long enough. and frankly, i probably wont later. i am very tired of all of this ALREADY and it’s only been five days as of writing this. i guess the tldr is that taco and ii itself is morally grey, who knew?/s thank you for coming to my ted talk. -💥

.

[66sharkteeth]

Weekly thoughts, ep 177-

And do I have thoughts this week! As well as things to point out.

I was pretty excited about this episode and it's kind of something I've been building up to for a while. I've talked in the past about Claude's development being some of my favorite in the series, and this ep is kind of what these past few eps have been building up to. I know the last few eps haven't been the most thrilling- Which is normal, to have some calm eps after a huge events, and I have been sprinkling important scenes in there (I mean, Rex got The Memory™), but another big thing drawing these past few eps out were getting Claude to this moment. I think in the original outline, this scene actually came a lot sooner, and it just felt...far too sudden to me. It needed those scenes we've seen the past few eps of Jericho confiding in Claude and him realizing Jericho is too far gone.

Which honestly, I think is kind of sad in a way nobody's really pointed out- Jericho revealing all his plans to Claude because he's the one person he thinks he can trust, and then Claude going behind his back with the information. But like Claude said in the episode, he does this all with the best intention for Jericho- He realizes he's gone too far now and he's trying to put out the fire Jericho set before the bridge is entirely burned.

Now as for his actual plan and if he'll get away with it... Haha, well, I even said last week these panels were important information that I knew people were gonna gloss over and sure enough...

Maybe it would have been more obvious if I put him in...literally pants lol. but yeah, dude was under a blanket the whole episode and it wasn't because he was cold:

That said, I do think the majority connected all the dots, but there were definitely a few people who didn't quite catch onto Claude's plan.

Now I DO think a more valid question is if Jericho could feel what Claude was writing. Which honestly, I just... Didn't really even think about until people started asking, but...

Maybe he just wrote on his human leg

I actually don't think the blank space can feel anything? I mean, we saw Jericho getting ripped and torn apart by scientists and he talks about how it didn't actually hurt.

After people pointed it out, I got curious and tried to write the note on my own leg and... honestly I dont think I would have ever known what someone was writing. I think I would have just thought it was a grocery list. So I think even if Jericho COULD feel it...he still wouldn't assume it was anything but a list of medicine and maybe some other things he needed.

That said... I think everyone is very valid to see a giant death flag over Claude now LOL. You'll just have to keep reading in regards to that.

Hm... I feel like I'm forgetting something. I think the only last thing I had some thoughts on were the small percent of people who still hate Claude and don't see this as any kind of redemption. To which... damn, yall are harsh LOL, but okay. I do kind of think those people are missing...a lot... in regards to Claude's development and his struggles but... w/e he's a fictional character and the enabler of the guy who has killed two protagonists now, so I get it more than like... Lyss. Who just made made wrong choices with the best intentions.

[robin-hood-marks]

Connected some dots

This is 100% going to be something that's incredibly obvious to a lot of people, so bare in mind my stupidity, but I was just thinking about the book and had a little thought.

So, we all know that the novel itself is a critique of the pretentious nature of 'intellectuals'; of how most of them (us, maybe) believe themselves as of greater importance and see themselves to be separate to 'normal' people. Well, I was just thinking over Bunny's character and recently I've seen some things on here about how he really isn't this big malicious character he's made out to be by the narrative but just a college kid doing college kid things and I thought, hm, wasn't he the dumbest too?

Stay with me lol

I remember it being mentioned that Bunny was either dyslexic or something along those lines, had the others do his homework and was older than them because he was held back a few grades in his earlier years of school. Now, taking in mind the overall point of the novel, it makes sense that he's villainised because he doesn't fit with their image of what makes them special or above everyone else. Bunny is just a young guy who wants to be cool and fit the images people have of him, and is murdered because he doesn't fit their criteria of what it is to be better.

It's a reoccurring theme whilst he is actually alive that the group looks down on him for being the least intelligent, the least capable, but they themselves aren't all that brilliant at the things they claim to be. With the exception of Henry (whom I could write a whole analysis on, but I'll spare you that), the group aren't that great at Latin or Greek or any of the things they study. Firstly, everyone's favourite line "Cubitum eamus?" is just a very weird translation of what he's trying to say and, while it makes some sense, isn't technically the way one would ask that question. Plus, the way Richard is introduced to the group (when they're all working on the tenses of something, I think?), I remember seeing someone talk about how that's not really all that complicated if you're actually good at the language? Not entirely sure about that one, so forgive me. I just find it all incredibly ironic that they revile and brutally murder someone for essentially being slightly less intelligent than them, when they themselves aren't all that genius. That's not even to mention how they worship people they perceive as smarter.

In short, Bunny was just a guy who was trying to be clever and cool. He fell in with a bunch of precociously mature, self-righteous intellectuals and understandably freaked out when they ritualistically murdered a man. I might dislike him, but I'll defend him.

Anyways rambles of a madwoman over, enjoy your day!

[wayfayrr]

So this is very much a self indulgent mini-fic, venting about some stuff that I've been dealing with recently <3 I'm working on requests and some other fics but I got told to post this to get it off of my chest anyway @cloudninetonine @angry-trashcan thanks for the confidence boost to be able to post this

“Hey, you’ve been sitting over here for a while, you feeling alright?”

“Just been thinking… I was part of some drama before I was uh brought here. It’s just, it’s just messed with me a bit I guess. I’ll be fine when we need to start moving again, don’t worry wars.”

After a brief second of fabric shuffling, he sits down and leans on me. It’s an oddly comforting feeling, different too like he’s bothered by something? What could’ve set him off so badly?

“Would you mind if I asked you about it? It’s clearly bothering you so, you should get it off of your chest and well, I’d just like to help you through this.”

“If you really want to know, it’s a little complicated though and while I can make a lot of it make sense to you I’ll have to leave a couple of things out.”

“Sounds like you’re willing to get it off of your chest though, so would you care to explain it to me honeybee?”

He’s being more persistent than usual too, have I really been looking so badly bothered by my thoughts? The worry does feel nice however, it feels more like talking to an old friend than anything which is wonderful seeing as I’ve not been able to reach them recently. I’ve just been stuck rereading old messages in a new context while my phone endlessly buffers to reach impossibly far servers.

“It’s… I’d been having issues with this person for a while… they used me more than anything, kept asking me for advice and making everything about them and brushed anything I or my other friends were trying to say off and sent things they really shouldn’t to people unwarrented… and then everything else.”

“Everything else? You don’t have to cut yourself off, with how you’ve been acting the rest feels like it’ll be worse anyway.”

“They just - someone connected some dots and pointed them out to me and I just… I’ve been going back over what they said and - and - and it made me think. They told me they associated my voice with a character they always got weird over, they kept fawning over my accent and how they’ve only ever heard it in fiction before, they gave me weird compliments when I was talking about things I did as a kid and that’s not even getting me started on how they treated my friends. I just… I feel so disgusted, seeing it in this light. Every bit of my skin just itches with disgust towards myself. Sorry I didn’t mean to share so much at once - I’m just tired. They didn’t even like me, it was like they only wanted me for where I’m from.”

The way he stilled sent a shiver down me, did I say to much? He might have not meant it when he said I could share… I mean theres no way he could’ve known… or does he think I’m simply overreacting? I’m probably just overreacting anyway.

My heart started beating again when he softened and pulled me to rest on him.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that all. They’re the one who is disgusting, not you, never you. I’ll speak to time, you should just rest for the rest of the day. I can lend you my scarf and you can just have a nap or I could ask wild to make your favourite food and you can just rest.”

I didn’t get a say before he’s already draped it over my shoulders; he’s leading me back over to the others and setting me down next to sky as he goes to speak with time. 

“Hmm? Did something happen, are you feeling alright dove?”

“Ah well, wars is going to ask time if we can stop for the day because I’m just dealing with some memories. I hope it won’t bother the others.”

“I doubt it, everyone’s been tense and tired recently. I know I have, I’ve been about dying for a rest. Would you care to join me too?”

Leaning back against him is all the response he needs as my eyes flutter closed, he’s so warm and comfortable. There are few people I’d prefer to rest next to. 

><><><><><><

“So then old man, I think that’s a good enough reason to settle for the day, don’t you?”

I know he’ll agree, asking him like this is simply a formality. After all, how could we continue when a member of the group is in such a state? On the verge of tears just from thinking about someone for a little bit too long. 

“You’ve never asked this for anyone else, but fine.” “Thank you Time, I’ll pay you back for this.”

“And Wars?”

“Hmm?”

“Go take your anger out on something, it’s not a good energy in the camp. Not if they’re so fragile right now. There’s apparently a standard bokoblin camp just a little south.”

He’s seen right through me then, but now I don’t need an alibi for when I come back.

[alleycatchitchat]

Kung Fu Panda 4 Initial Reactions

Just got back from the theater! Here are my thoughts. I'll try to be vague about the plot, but be warned: spoilers below.

---

So I went into the theater with rock-bottom spirits. I had seen the cringeworthy previews, read the disheartening reviews, connected the unsatisfactory dots and concluded that the movie I was about to see would be a nasty dumpster fire of a train wreck. And yet kfp played such a big role in my childhood that I couldn't just stay away. Filled with dread and morbid curiosity, I braced myself for the worst.

And it wasn't that bad.

Don't get me wrong; this movie made some decisions that I HUGELY disagree with. And compared to the other kfp movies, it's undeniably lousy. But it didn't ruin the franchise for me and I actually enjoyed myself in the theater.

Listing off my thoughts in no particular order:

Zhen. She is, to my surprise, a lot less irritating that I expected. The trailers don't do her justice and Awkwafina's voice was a whole lot less jarring than I expected. In terms of actual personality and even backstory, I liked her! However. Let's be honest, her design is shit. She looks like someone's Zootopia self-insert. She feels totally out of place in this movie -- particularly, during the end credits when she's side-by-side with the five (who all have the most beautiful stylized designs). Also, plotwise, WHAT is she doing in this film? Spoiler alert: she becomes the new dragon warrior. Spoiler alert again: yes, this is every bit as random and undeserved as you can imagine.

Furious Five: Were not in the movie. First of all, fuck you dreamworks, how dare you withold my children? My darlings? The loves of my life? Their absence is keenly felt and the plot is emptier without them, and I mean that with complete sincerity. I’m also going to point out the obvious; if there has to be a new Dragon Warrior, and I’m not saying that’s a good plot idea, but if there has to be, it should be Tigress. It makes the most sense thematically and the possibilities are just so good – developing her relationship with Po as he provides guidance, facing her feelings of inadequacy, exploring her connections with Shifu and the rest of the five — I could go on and on. The wasted potential is breathtaking. To be honest, it kinda feels like Zhen was written to replace her(using a hug to de-escalate a fight with Po, anyone?). Fanfic writers, I need a rewrite of this movie with Tigress, stat.

TAI LUNG! He was obviously played for nostalgia and there was no concrete point to his lines or presence. He was also written, if you ask me, pretty out of character. I’m still fuming over the fact that they brought him back and we don’t get to see Shifu’s reaction at all. Again, the wasted potential is breathtaking. When compared with Kai and Shen, who have NO speaking lines, it’s obvious that dreamworks just didn’t want to pay for extra actors. I thought that his acceptance of Po as the Dragon Warrior at the end was super cool, but there was NO lead up, NO meaningful character development to make this feel sincere, and again, it would have hit much harder if Tigress or Shifu were also there or if Po was NOT giving up the title. That being said, I never thought he would appear in a movie again, and I’m happy to have any crumbs I can get. They did a bad job, yes, but they BROUGHT HIM BACK. 

Po’s dads! Their side story was goofy and unnecessary but fun, and I enjoyed it. Also maybe it’s just me but the romantic tension between them is AMPED UP – does Li, like, live at the restaurant now? And they spend the movie acting like the most married couple ever. And when Li bursts into the tavern to rescue Mr. Ping, who looks at him with those starstruck eyes – well. I’m just saying. I think there’s something going on there.

I liked the Chameleon! Yeah, her whole gimmick is a little bit ripped off from Kai, but she’s sinister and greedy and badass, so she’s the real deal. I actually thought she was scarier than previous villains – there was less comic relief, maybe? I can only think of one instance where she’s presented in a comedic light, and even then, the tension just picked right up from where it left off. Which is strange, because the rest of the movie is a lot more lighthearted than previous films.

The pacing was weird. Too fast.

Shifu was cute in this movie. More Shifu please!

The reaction to Tai Lung’s return was WEIRD. It’s obvious Dreamworks didn’t want to dedicate time or effort to what was, essentially, a red herring. But. Plot-wise, it’s SO WEIRD that Po would try to face him with no backup. And the fact that we didn’t get to see Shifu’s reaction AT ALL, ugh. Realistically speaking I think Shifu would try to go face Tai Lung, no matter how “inner peace”-y he is now. Like come on, Tai Lung was his son, for crying out loud! 

The goats at the start? Also weird designs. Feel out of place.

Mantis got married! What the heck? (neutral about this, but it was definitely unexpected.)

In general, the plot was weird. It didn’t feel meaningful and it didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the kfp universe. Storytelling decisions were just plain bad. But as a standalone movie, it was not… terrible. Not irredeemable. I think, if Tigress had taken Zhen’s place, this could have actually worked. But she didn’t, and it didn’t.

So I’m going to headcanon it as fake and just stick to loving the first 3 movies. I don’t regret watching it, but there were huge problems that prevented me from enjoying it to its full potential.

[darkvioletwonderland]

Heartsteel Headcanons { First Impressions, how they fall in love, confession }

Seems people like the headcanons I write, so here's more! I try to be as detailed as I can while also keeping my perception of the characters. I apologize if theres lack of detail, I do write these very late at night. Lmk your thoughts in the comments! Ty if you decide to read! Ps. This one is pretty lengthy so, yeah, keep that in mind.

Ezreal

When it comes to meeting new people, Ezreal is as friendly as they come. But upon meeting you for the first time, he seemed to smile a little more genuinely.

He was quick to find a way to interact with you in some form that wouldn't hinder anyone. It's hard being a rockstar after all, specially a popular and busy one like him. Befriending you was that first step.

He's open and kind, curious to a fault but otherwise respectful of you. The two of you find common ground and become great friends. It's not until a while of many fun events and activities together that he starts to fully fall for you.

There's shyness when he realizes, unsure if to bring it up at all with you was a good move to begin with. He does his best to hide it, but it's inevitable to not act sweet and romantic towars you. Always throwing throwing compliments and giving you support.

In the end, he confesses to you after you had long picked up on the compliments. Afraid but putting up a brave face if you do end up not feeling the same for him. Though his eyes do shine when hearing you feel the same. Showing his affection in the form of a sweet kiss.

Kayn

It's no secret that Kayn upon first encounter is a bit too intense for a person. Let alone with someone who's impulsive and wild like he was. Though upon meeting you, he isn't afraid to show a grin.

He tries to get on your nerves, just to see how far your wit goes. Though he doesn't expect you matching his level in the slightest. That gets you two to become close, causing mayhem to the behest of the other band members (or Yone, as the unofficial mother of the group)

Theres banter and much joy in the chaos you two find yourselves in, Kayn feels alive doing activities with you. It's not surprising when he falls for you because of it.

He doesn't say his feelings, he'd rather shrivel up and hide than say anything at all. Instead, his actions speak more than his words ever could. Leaning on you, always hovering by your shoulder and sometimes even hugging you out of nowhere.

His odd behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, and it takes some pushing in order to even get a "I like you" out of him. He tries to be brave an face you, but also stand close enough to the exit if you end up reject his feelings. He's surprised to say the least when you actually accept his feelings. And he doesn't hold back on showing you just how much you mean to him. Using bites a a sign of affection.

K'sante

K'sante is used to being a talkative person when it came to being around people, being always quite open to conversation. Having to be that interactful person for the sake of Yone most times. Though seeing you for the first time, he felt like he could give an entire TED talk.

His approach is like a host at a house warming party, wanting to get to know you and what you do for a living. Actually taking the time to meet and understand who you are. You two become quite close.

With him, theres always a story to tell or a topic to talk about. He enjoys listening and commenting on everything you wholeheartedly tell him. It takes him time to truly connect the dots that he's actually fallen for you.

His behaviour towards you doesn't change too much, but he does become more of a gentleman in a sense. Keeping a nice apperance, wearing cologne, opening the door for you among other actions.

There is a point where the two of you get into the conversation about partners and love when K'sante confesses his love for you. Keeping himself humble and reassuring you nothing will change if you don't like him back. But when you show him that you do, he becomes the luckiest man on earth. Holding you close and kissing you passionately.

Aphelios

Although being unable to talk to others, Aphelios finds ways to be entertaining for everyone in a room. Mostly playing instruments. Though when seeing you for the first time, he did look to try a little harder than usual.

With the help of Alune, he is able to communicate with you a little and actually share contact information with you. That's how he's able to get to know you and become great friends with you.

He's attentive and empathetic, always listening to everything you say or text him. Finding beauty in your mutual appreciation for eachothers interests. As well as quickly finding how hard he's fallen for you.

Of course Aphelios is extremly good at hiding his feelings. Though you do notice how quick his response time is to you, always answering seconds after you texted him. Sharing with you music he knows you'd enjoy as much as him.

When you two are together one day though, he does give you a hand written note. It's his confession. Patiently waiting for you to read it through although nervously. Unsure if you'd actually accept someone like him at all. But he does become surprised when in the same silent manner, you return the feeling writing an affirmation on the back of the paper with a smile. Aphelios' expression of joy could be louder than a thousand word. But trapped within silence, he simply shows it with a gentle kiss.

Sett

Sett thrives interacting with others and just being silly all the while. He's big man after all, having to show off in some way. But meeting you for the first time, he became even more silly.

He quick to make jokes and find something to talk about. All to befriend you and make you smile. He likes making friends and making them smile in some way.

You two find have fun in the most mundane things and enjoy working out in your own paces. Such joy of life doesn't go unnoticed by a happy guy like Sett. He falls for you and it's impossible to get you out of his head.

Unlike everyone, it's super obvious that he likes you. His face red everytime you even as smile his way. Stuttering slightly when you ask him if he's okay.

Sett ends up confessing pretty quickly after noticing. Apologizing if he accidentally made things uncomfortable. Though when you affirm that it's okay and that you feel the same, he is overjoyed. Picking you up and spinning around with you, laughing and kind of crying too at the same time. All from happiness tho.

Yone

Yone is used to keeping up a professional apperance, it's become second nature at this point. To leave a good impression for the band's sake. But when interacting with you for the first time, he did a check on the charm box.

His demeanor and way of talking got the two of you to talk for quite some time, even to the point of exchanging contact information. The frienship blossomed well

Yone wasn't much of a texter and he let that known quickly. So instead of texting, you two called eachother every now and then to share ideas and talk about life in general. Yone was at peace knowing someone like you was around, so it wasn't a full surprise to him when he noted a development in the way he saw you.

He didn't let anything show, keeping up apperances and interacting with you like normal. Though you did start to notice how he'd smile at you whenever you were together.

Sitting you down face to face, he does eventually confess his long held feelings for you. Assuring you that even if you don't reciprocate them in the same romantic way, he'd still care for you as a friend like normal. He does seem glad when you affirm them, bringing you close and expressing how much this means to him in loving whispers.

[chemicallady]

I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN

Part 1

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: none. It's gonna be a slow burn, baby! Just a couple of bad words and some references to sexual intercorse. Should I add Matt to the warming just because it's part of this?

Taglist: @ada-clarence, @badalmondzzzz, my wifey @starsomens

Summary: Reader is Matt's sister and PR for Bad Omens. After a long relationship that ended quite bad, with her brother help, she decides to give herself a fresh new start in Los Angeles.

A/N: from now on, I'll post my notes at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers!

As always this is just a product of fiction, nothing in this ff is real, my intention is to entertain myself and all of you.

Enjoy 🐕

I don't know if I count, but I'm trying my best.

This is not a story with a happy ending.

This is not one of those scenarios in which the grumpy old brother, after a significant amount of time, realises that his sister and his bestfriend are in love and the two of you can live happily ever after.

This is the real life, not an urban fairytale.

And there's a lot to unpack, emotionally.

First of all, you and Noah are not in love. You weren't aware of who he was before an hour ago. In your head you can ear in loop Eric, Eric, Eric, and it's fucking annoying that you actually had had the feeling you know him but you didn't recognised his throat tattoo after licking it. Or his nose. He has the most perfect nose you've ever seen, but nothing. It's not even an excuse that you haven't seen each other for three years because Matt shares videos from their gig on weekly basis, when on tour.

It's the fucking Clark Kent paradox, but instead of a pair of glasses, he got those long, perfect silk hair cut.

Losing the 25% of his charm, in your modest opinion.

But it doesn't matter.

Because when you met Eric, your first impression was that he seemed to be genuine, but shy maybe, in a good way a bit weird.

But genuine.

He is not genuine for the fuck sake! He lied on who he is and now you both have a problem.

Matt hasn't noticed yet, but only because he's too invested in the production of the music video to connect the dots. The way Noah stood in front of you, paralyzed, without talking, was loud enough for someone to notice.

You're sure about that.

After that stupid exchange of words you ran back inside the house telling everyone that it's too hot and you are not use yet to California's sunny day.

Dumbest excuse ever since is almost november, and Texas is warmer than here. But it worked so you can sit on the kitchen counter, and reflect about how much fucked up you are.

This is not even a story in which the main character is overreacting. You're Not. Matt has always hated every boy who laid and eye on you. From the very first boyfriend in mid school to a couple of classmates in highschool that just asked for your help with homeworks. Then, Shawn. He has never tollerated Shawn even if the rest of your family accepted him as a son. Matt never made up a scene in front of him or mistreated him in any way. But behind his back, he talked a lot shit, made you furious every time. He said that Shawn wasn't genuine enough (this adjective is starting to sound funny, at this point), caring enough, that he was drinking too much at your parents dinner table, that he looked too possessive.

In your modest opinion, your brother is terrible in judging others. For real. The issue on the table is always the same one; he is afraid you can get hurt. Matt can't physically stand the sight of you crying or being miserable.

Now, after this long mental digression, it's fair to say that he doesn't have to know. Absolutely. And you need Noah to be on the same page about that. You have to cut any contact with him that is not related to work. The date you have for friday is deleted.

It's sad because you really enjoyed having Eric around.

But he's not fucking Eric.

You don't have the chance to speak face to face with noah until after lunch. When the nerds move on Orie's room to give a first look at the unprocessed scenes and Jolly joined Folio in the pool, Noah is the one who actually comes looking for you.

You are on the sofa, petting Harper. He indulges just one second on the sight of you cuddling the adorable princess of the hous, before take a seat next to you. 《 Harp likes you.》

《 Well, she is not the only one. Isn't she?》

Noah release a long, loud sigh, while is cheeks get pink-ish. 《 You really are outspoken, are you?》. He gives a look at you, straight into your eyes. You are ready. You can feel how reticent he is right now, almost scared to say the wrong thing. 《 You are not gonna tell your brother about...》

《 About you eating me out in you car?》 It's your question, whispered between the two of you like the biggest secret in the world. 《 initially he won't believe us, but further investigations will follow; Maybe he will take the fingerprints from the back window. My hands were there while you were fucking me from behind. And he loves CSI.》

《 I'm serious. Are you going to tell him?》

And he is serious. You were joking, maybe because you feel a little embarrassed, maybe because your dad is right when he says that making fun about serious situations sometimes helps in facing them. But Noah on the other hand doesn't look amused. He looks like thinks you're mocking him.

So you hinale deeply, before looking back at him, leaving all your bullshit behind. And that's the moment in which you start to feel how tense the situation is. 《 I would rather chop my own foot than telling him I fuck with his best friend. He's gonna be furious. To me, but also to you. Do you have any deathwishies? Because I just got a fresh new start and I intend to survive the beginning of the week.》

Noah nods with a slow motion. He seems to have already evaluated any bad scenarios and keep it quiet is for the best of all of you. Especially Matt, who doesn't deserve to end up in jail. 《 So it's a secret between you and me now, Vanessa.》

《Don't you even try to use this card against me, Eric. 》

Noah brings his hands to his eyes. He looks even more concerned than you are. Matt once told you that Noah never had a real family, growing up. He was always on his own, so he formed a family with the friends he chose. Probably he is scared to disappoint Matt as much as you are.

《 Why you lie? Why you told me your name was Eric?》

With another sigh, Noah looked back at you. 《 I don't know. Sometime I ... fuck, you're going to have a bad first impression of me.》

《 Don't worry. I already had a bad first impression of you. 》

When he see you smile softly, he chuckles. It's pure tension right now and not the good one. He is living the horror of being caught with his hands in your honey jar. 《 ...When I meet a girl that sounds like troubles, I never bring her home and I give her a fake name.》

《 Did I sound like a troubles, to you?》

《 Yes because I knew I've already seen you.... but I couldn't recall were or when. And when you told me you had just moved in with your brother for a second I thought 'oh shit its y/n, her tits got bigger'. But then you lie as well and I believe I was in the safe.》

《 You didn't remember anything else but my breast size?》

It makes sense.

In some ways.

Half of fault is on both of you.

《 Sorry I lied》 , he says while rising from the sofa, ready to join his friends and check how the video is going 《 and sorry for... you know. 》

《 ah, don't say anything, we both enjoyed that part》 .

《 yeah, it was...》 Noah stays a couple of second in silence before biting both is lips. 《 We have to stop anyway. I cant loose Matt and he gave us a lecture about NOT fucking around with you, before you arrived.》

Now it's your time to sigh loudly. Yeah, you have seen that coming. But it's fine since you and Noah didn't planned it. You call it a casuality more than an incident.

You haven't big aspectation on Eric, anyway.

You feel like you've lost the capability of love long, after Shawn.

《 I agree. It's not gonna happen again》.

He smiles at you in relieve and you feel the same. 《 Can wait to work with you, than 》

《Otherwise》

He waves his hand before turning around and leave you in the living room. Harper is licking your hand so you start to pet her again, feeling better.

Matt will never know about your rendezvous.

You're washing the dishes after dinner, while Matt is picking up a movie. Even if you convinced yourself that you and Noah took the most resonable way, and also your conversation was short but clearifyng, you cant help yourself but feeling a bit down because you're not going to meet Eric anymore. And you know that Eric doesn't even exist. You will see Noah on a daily basis, and this will help a lot in moving on, but it's gonna be tough for the first week or two.

Because you and Noah are not in love, but you can feel the first syntomps of a beginning crush. Which is legit because Noah is funny and goofy and good-looking. More than that, he was nice to you and didn't force you in silence or nothing. You two have a conversation and reach an easy solution that makes everyone safe. Safe from Matt. After clearing the air, he also asked you for some advices because he never had a PR. It's his job usually and the two of you should work on that together. The prospective makes you nervous since you have no clue about the job itself, and Matt noticed. You know he did.

And you also know that he was waiting the vulnerable silence of your shared flat to talk about this with you.

《 What's wrong with Noah?》

You don't look back at him, rinsing the dishes from the soap. 《 What about Noah?》

《 He froze when he saw you this morning. And then you didn't look so happy about working with him》.

Matt and his way to be fucking direct.

You scroll your shoulders, epically good in lying. 《 I can't tell about him freezing in front of me. But I'm not looking forward to be his assistant and bring him his favorite brand of coffe.... or fold his underwares.》

《 That's not your job. He can make his own caffè and he won't let you fold any of his clothes. Trust me, that man on the edge of an OC diagnosis 》. You mumble something about being good in folding clothes while Matt approaches you, crossing his arm on his chest. 《 C'mon. Do I have to pull the big deal out of you kicking your ass?》

You're trapped because you two are too similar. You can read your brother like a book written for kids. Really dumb kids. And it's the same for him. You can't fool him too long.

《 Alright. I met a guy at the gym. He's name is Eric and he looked nice, but now I'm convinced that he's fake like a three dollar coin. Happy?》

You wait for the ocean of question that Matt is going to storm on you, but.... Nothing. He simply exhales before helping you, drying the dishes and the glasses with a cloat. You feel like you just turned twelve again and he was always around helping with the cores your mom gave you.

《 It's good that you're moving on fast. When I brought you here, I was afraid to see you again in the sane state you were in Texas. Close in your own room, drowing your bad feelings under the blankets. It's a good thing that you go to the gym and meet new people but be careful. People in LA are different from what you're used to. 》

You don't know what to say. You were aspecting Matt to start a lecture about rushing your new life and instead you got a boost. That's a progress.

《 Thanks for the advice》.

《 Just text me every time you're with him. And send me the position in real time so I can check.》

There he is! 《 You almost got me scared. I was wandering where my medieval-mind brother was. 》

《 Shut up!》

A soft laught leaves your mounth while he pours so water from the sink on you. And you oblige, doing it back on him. 《 I won't see Eric again, anyway.》

《 Who's Eric?》

《 Gym guy. He left.》

Matt finished drying the last fork before push you a little, playfully. 《 What did you say to make him run?》

《 Nothing! You asshole!》

The two of you reach the sofa, but apparently he is not done with the conversation. 《 Can you promise just two things?》

《 Alright, shoot》

《 In case this guy will be back and you won't be interested, just call Noah. He is enrolled to the same gym》.

You have to do your best to not laugh or betray yourself in any way. 《 Promise. What else?》

《 You are more than allowed to look for some happiness. You deserve to be loved by someone who is not an idiot as Shawn. Someone who sees the real you.》 You smile with some commotion to these beautiful words, reaching for his hand on the cushion in between you two. 《 But please never date anyone from the crew. No one wants drama while we're hitting the road.》

The smile froze on your lips without giving your brain the chance to process why you suddenly feel so .... disappointed.

《 y/n, pinkie promise?》

A bit reluctant, you grab his pinkie with yours, like you have done billions of time.

《 I promise》.

And you really hope you will be able to keep it.

It takes six days to meet again Noah at the gym. Matt helped you find a class about management and public relations, and day after day, you're learning how you can be useful for the band. Working on websites, taking care of the agenda, and defining schedules sounds scary, but you feel more confident day after day.

Noah is sitting outside his jujitsu class, his mitts next to him, and some bandage in his hand. The other one is busy scrolling the screen of his iPhone. You're reticent in bump into him, but just for a second. You know that if you start to avoid him, it will be a bad habit to lose. So you approach greeting him.

He looks surprised, but just for a couple of seconds, while he's buring the cellphone in his shorts' pocket. 《 How is yoga going?》

《 Fine, nothing noticeable》 , you take a seat next to him, smiling. 《 How jujitsu is going?》

《 Today, not so good》 he answers, showing you his brushed knuckles. Some blood on the right hand is almost dry. 《 I have to change my mitts. These are fucked.》

That's an amazing start of conversation for two people who had sex and then started to pretend that never happened in less than 24 hours.

《 Let me help you with that.》 With a nod, you indicate the bandages. He slowly gives the box to you, and after cleaning your hands with the sanitizer you have in your gym bag, you start to wrap the bandages around his hand gently.

《 How's school going? Matt said that you're taking it so seriously》. There is something in his voice that is illegible. Is he mocking you? Or maybe he is amused? You're focused on his hands to pay attention to his sminking face.

《 Well, I'm supposed to, right?》

《 Why? Why do you want to work with us? I mean... you can find a job as a piercer. I saw you in action and you're really good at it. 》

After fixing his left hand, you proceed to the other one, avoiding his gaze. 《 Do you want me to be honest?》

《 You can be honest, or you can be Vanessa 》.

A sigh escapes from your lips, uncontrolled. The audacity of this bitch. 《 Because I want the money. Because I want to spend a lot of time with my brother. Because I want to choose my job and leave the one my prick ex chose for me behind. Because I have nothing left to lose. I want to love my life again, waking up in the morning with a purpose.》

You have no idea why you're opening up to someone you barely know. But it is what it is. You can't have a fresh new start if you are not honest with yourself.

And when you look at Noah, you find respect in his gaze. 《 You just move in LA, and i'm not gonna lie to you: it's hard work. Are you sure you can take this?》

《 I'm used to fight any battle at my lowest》 it's your answer. The most honest one you can guarantee to him. 《 I'm ready to drag myself if it's necessary and only if it's forward. I need a hurricane to shake up my entire existence》.

《 Well well, you might have found the right one. Our new record could be a total disaster or grant us more than I can even imagine. You pick up the right train or, at least, you will enjoy every second of my downfall》

《 You're so drammatic, like every singer. 》

Noah giggles at your last affirmation before checking his hands. 《 thanks. You're already an amazing assistant. 》

《 I'm not your fucking secretary. 》

《 So who are you, y/n?》

A broken doll.

A girl that just wants to be love.

A woman covered in scars, who has a heart hidden in meters and meters of barber wire to prevent everyone from hurting it again.

《 A friend, Noah.》

And you can tell by his smile that it's the right answer he was waiting for. And this beautiful and sincere smile could be enough to put aside any crush you can develop in order to gain a true friend.

《 Lets grab a beer, then.》

A/N : I know that probably a lot of you are here for the smut, but I rethink this ff with a lot of realistic scenarios and the idea of writing a friends to lovers. It's my first attempt on this topic, and I'm thrilling to recieve any thought about it from you! I left an important hint for the future in the text by the way.

You can also send me inbox about my ff, about Bad Omens in general or headcanons! It's gonna be fun if you give me some credit ♡

I also added a song in the beginning that should be a sort of soundtrack for the chapter. I added it to the first chapter as well if you want to check!

Lastly, if you wish to be added to my tag list, comment here or send me a pm!

[femmefatalevibe]

How do I sound and appear more intelligent and sophisticated? I've read books and stuff but how do I apply the knowledge in real life? How do I make my everyday vocabulary more sophisticated? Ik the general advice to read books and converse with people etc, but how do I actually apply it irl?

Hi love! Here are some of my suggestions/tips:

How do I sound and appear more intelligent and sophisticated?

Keep your language and explanations simple & concise

Speak slowly & deliberately: Take your time between sentences, and pause between your thoughts. Always think before you speak. Silences, while slightly awkward, are not always best avoided

Use the proper propositions when speaking: Avoid small grammar mistakes (know when to use less vs. fewer, I vs. me, graduated from an institution, etc.)

Articulate complex concepts into layman's terms: Break concepts down into different parts of the conceptual equation – chronically, from beginning to end or outcome to origin, simultaneously moving parts/micro-stories or situations; Use analogies (metaphors, mundane/real-life examples, or hypothetical situations) that require the same thought-process or methodology)

Apply conversational "show don't tell" when sharing a story: Describe the situation using the 5 senses to convey the implied meaning (e.g. "I could feel the pit in my stomach." vs. "I was nervous.")

Use subtle tonality to convey particularly emotional or significant points while speaking

I've read books and stuff but how do I apply the knowledge in real life?

Relate cultural references or learned concepts to add clever humor to everyday conversations

Create parallels and analogies to outside information to convey your understanding of what someone is saying, ask more thoughtful follow-up questions, or smoothly transition into a new conversation topic

How do I make my everyday vocabulary more sophisticated?

Use everyday/simple sentence structure and replace one simple word choice with another more sophisticated word that is equally apt to the message you're trying to convey

If you're ever confused about whether a particular synonym makes sense to use IRL, look at how it is used in the dictionary sentence examples and in other books/articles

Ik the general advice to read books and converse with people etc, but how do I actually apply it irl?

Reiterate a concise, simplified version of the other person's anecdotes to convey your understanding. Drive the conversation forward by asking specific follow-up questions based on one "part" of the idea or story

Use cultural parallels to convey your understanding of what the other person is saying (sounds like this TV show character, like a certain artist, historical/current event, etc.)

Leverage metaphors to connect the dots between the points you and your conversation partner are making. Make an insightful connection to break up the air time between their anecdote and contribution

Conversational word choice should be used to create vivid images in people's minds – to paint a picture of the concept, scene, emotions, or sensations one would engage with or experience if the person was living your conversation in the present moment

Learn how to use wit conversations – context and delivery are vital to its success and positive reception

Hope this helps xx

[variousqueerthings]

hi hello the exorcist show for the ask game please!!! (hope you are well!)

AHHH HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO

awwyeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (also known as: the show of all fucking time that nobody watched before it was too late, including my good self but lbr they were never giving it a third season but does it matter???? we got two seasons of some of the most beautiful narrative you can imagine. chill im chill you know im chill gosh im so happy you watched this show still!)

my favorite female character ooh, this is interesting, because I never had a Fave fave out of all of them, but i think a toss-up between Angela Rance (duh, perhaps, my beloved Geena Davis), Mother Bernadette (i miss u babe), and Rose Cooper (head solidly on her shoulders as she navigates the utterly bizarre, adopts all the kids 😭😭😭)

my favorite male character YOU KNOW! HOW DIFFICULT! THIS IS! YOU KNOW I HAVE TO GO MARCUS BUT THEN TOMAS WOULD ALSO SAY MARCUS (but then Marcus would say Tomas, so forwards and backwards we go) - my midlands orphan who was groomed and abused by the Church to become an object/weapon, who has somehow maintained an inherent belief in People, in Goodness, and above all who will never ever let another child suffer on his watch!!!! who sees abused children and wants to save them!!!!!!!!! who is queer and deeply repressed (canonically this time, we say this about many a character, but Canonically!!!!) and working through it!!!! played by the beauteous and yet rugged Ben Daniels!!!! This character Did Things to my psyche forever and always, he is nestled softly in there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my favorite book/season/etc Mmmmmmm there's only two to go for... I think........ argh. hm. ok. no. i can't do it. coward's way out. soz babe

my favorite episode (if its a tv show) me like, damn it's so episodic, what happened wheeen but ok in terms of Moments in the story: s1: when we properly discover who Angela is. the rug pull is so so good for me and pulls everything into focus as a Story! s2: toss up between "Marcus makes out with a sexy fisherman (called Peter!!) while Tomas embarks on The Horrors alone," and the finale............. gosh that s2 finale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my favorite cast member I've seen Ben Daniels onstage and it absolutely rocked my whole world, but I cannot go without shouting out Alfonso Herrera (yes, he of Sense8 fame to anyone reading this trying to connect the dots!) Geena Davis, and John Cho!!!! like!!!! this cast is fucking Stacked!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my favorite ship Tomas/Marcus. whatever they are, they are everything to one another! which is the whole core of the show

a character I’d die defending Father Devon Bennett!!!!! I don't know if he needs defending from fandom, but holy cow the way we leave him is so so bleak it hurts my soul!!!!! can someone come save my baby boy 😭😭😭

a character I just can’t sympathize with Idk man. the demons? OH NO WAIT I KNOW FUCKN! MARIA WALTERS!!!! Truly a "ok sob story, still evil" kinda thing (which is the point, this woman!!! this fucking woman!!!!!!!) -- i do like how absolutely pathetic she was in a particular way I usually see in these powerhungry guys! girlboss! cancer killed the demon inside of her (lol)

a character I grew to love I'd say Mouse. I think the thing about Mouse is simply that we didn't get to the next part of her story, so she's In Potentia permanently. I also think it was a slight misstep to ground her in a past will-they-won't-they with Marcus, because it puts her into that fatal position of "oh so she's just a love interest after all" vs giving her her own journey, BUT! HOWEVER! She does have her own journey! very much so in fact! it's just that that wig Ben Daniels had in the flashbacks was fucking atrocious and you were maybe more interested in the current-day stuff on first watch but then on second watch she really came into her own for me, especially everything she was doing with Bennett! I wish we'd had more of them doing Stuff together! I wish we could have seen her and Tomas properly bonding!!!!!!!!!

my anti otp um. dunno really. Marcus and the wig. I wasn't necessarily compelled by Marcus and Mouse romantically either, I will say, but her hero-worshipping him and misreading it a certain way (she was a young nun, he was a mysterious exorcist), that I can get behind, especially since present-day Mouse is so Capable and Jaded, we like that journey for her

Anyway... that fucking show. forever in my mind. forever hurting my soul. forever waiting for a third season. forever recommending it because even without a full ending it's so so satisfying!

sry needed to add gifs of marcus touching tomas like he's precious