#they all had the exact same plot and i did not care in the slightest

[versasfanficwastedump]

my hot take is that i think it is sad that DC fans haven’t taken a page out of Marvel fans’ books and written fics about the kids going on field trips to Wayne Enterprises or whatever

[yagamisdiary]

I’ve been reading books on Wattpad for years and none of them have given me the amount of turmoil that Elida has. You sincerely deserve your flowers 🌹

I started reading a few months back and only recently have I fully caught up and when I say I’ve cried literally so much 😭 in the bathroom, in my bedroom, at the table 💀the list goes on

One thing that I just can’t seem to get over was Ambrose’s fate. To me there’s just so much mystery!! What exactly was he thinking in his last moments? Would he have forgiven yn? Did he feel guilty in the slightest for what he did/was doing, or was he too mentally skewed to comprehend? How long was he plotting and how did he and Markell even come together? Did he have no shame selling yn off to the guy who killed their parents (Ambrose was usually v protective over her)? What was yn’s exact reason for killing him, was it on impulse and did she end up regretting it??? UGHHH THERES JUST SM

Truly he’s grown to be my favourite character and it’s so sad seeing him end up like that. I can’t help but just wonder endlessly about what was going on in that hurt, damaged mind of his. Part of me likes to believe that all their deceased family has been reunited and that they’re not actually gone 🥲

But honestly well done. You have such talent it’s unimaginable! I hope you stay well and take care 🤍

AMBROSE IS GETTING SM LOVE TODAY ??? WHATS GOING ON LOLLLLL

i was going to address a lot of those questions in the book but i honestly rather leave it up to mystery and the readers. i love when i read a book and im left wondering about it for weeks after because there’s so much to think about… maybe that’s why a lot of my books are that way LOL

most importantly, the way ambrose found out markell and how they came together never gets revealed because (MAJOR SPOILERS) they’re both dead so the only two ppl in the world who know the answer can’t say it. it’s like the secret died with them and i like the sound of that in an odd way.

i had originally planned to insert a chapter from ambrose pov on how he found out and how he felt throughout but there was already SO MUCH going on in the book that mentally and emotionally, i didn’t have it in me to write such an INTENSE chapter (also don’t think you guys deserved it atp in time either)

to bring this to an end, i know a lot of ppl have so many questions but if the answer isn’t already in the book, it’s because i wanna leave it up to interpretation

for example : the whole phoenix and armin thing! it’s never said at all in the book that phoenix is gay or that he and armin start something together but it is hinted that armin has a thing for phoenix

a lot of ppl keep asking if phoenix feels the same way or if they ever end up together and the answer is ITS UP TO YOU it’s never going to say in the book (there’s literally only one more chapter left and i ain’t gonna spend it talking abt them little twinkle stars) so honestly it’s gonna be up to the readers interpretation!

[acefaun]

I am challenging you to write a Crack Fic where Zyglavis is reader's elder brother and scolds her for shedding so much hair. But he reluctantly helps her clean it and turns out most of the hair is his because they are Freaking L O N G!

Zyglavis- Shedding

Synopsis: Zyglavis, your older brother, chooses to punish you for leaving a mess around your living space, but what if that backfires on him?

✨Masterlist✨ Gender-neutral goldfish!

A/n: 🤭This is golden, and I’m wondering if you noticed that Zyg wouldn’t notice that he himself is shedding because he has a carpet in his room, and as someone who owns a carpet, I’m telling you, you will not know there’s hair just desperately clinging to that carpet no matter how hard you look at it or how hard you vacuum.  Also, I haven’t been in a typing mood in a hot minute, so I tried writing in my journal instead, and I wrote this fic while I was outside watching chickens. My problem-solving skills are getting better! ✨ And maybe I answered this so fast because I miss my brother. 💙 And this isn’t edited, so disregard any oopsies, please!

–Word Count: 1,430–

Zyglavis had to pause upon first opening the door that led to your, his younger sibling’s, room. You weren't there, but you had previously asked him to leave your book on your desk when he returned it. But… maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to leave it in your room…

The longer he stood there deep in thought, he realized something… He’d noticed that what made him pause in your door was the same exact thing he recalled seeing in your shared living room as well. When there was just enough movement to create the slightest gust of air, there was a barely noticeable shift on the floor. It was as if the air had wisps of outlines that exposed its secret motions.

He had refrained from telling you anything the past few weeks, having had the utmost faith that you’d clean up after yourself. But evidently his confidence was misplaced. 

Besides, you were lucky enough to have a big brother caring enough to correct these kinds of behaviors. Yes, you were fortunate indeed.

***

He thought you were considerably fortunate to have someone like him looking out for you. You, however, did not share that same sentiment. Of all the things in the universe, you beloved brother had to become a nagging, nitpicking mother…

Your eyes were glued to the supposedly filthy floor as Zyglavis ceaselessly lectured you. Only, after a minute, you were snapped out of your silent brooding when Zyglavis’ harsh tone demanded, “(Name), are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Yes…” You answered, finally turning to regard him. You looked him up and down with furrowed brows before you slowly questioned, “Have you been plotting that speech all morning, waiting for me to get home?” Another huff left your lips without even bothering to receive his answer first—you two were almost similar in that regard. You tiredly rubbed the edge of your eyebrow. “You worry about the smallest things…” 

Lifting your hand to snap your fingers, you were caught off guard when Zyglavis’ hand wrapped around yours, stopping your action. Before you could open your mouth in protest, Zyglavis was already speaking. “This is something you’re going to take seriously. And I’ve already decided on your punishment.”

“Punishment,” you repeated incredulously. It’s not that you wanted to interrupt him, but you were surprised that he had the audacity to punish you over something trivial like that. Sure, he was the Chief Minister of Punishments and you, being his younger sister, were not an exception to the rules, but this was excessive! It was uncalled for! You had no idea what was going on in his head, but whatever it was wasn’t fair. “You’re going to punish me–” He sighed as you started ranting. “–for something out of my control? It’s not like I just snapped my fingers and put hair all over the place because I thought It’d be funny to see you pissed off! You have to cut me some slack! It’s just hair—hair that naturally falls out, you know?” To end your argument, you firmly exclaimed, “You can’t punish me!”

Before you could continue to start a further rant about how ‘unjustified’ this was, Zyglavis uttered, “I haven’t sentenced you to death, (Name). Please, let me finish.” His eyes bored into you as he slowly added, “If you’re finished your tantrum…?”

Pursing your lips, you nodded once. “Sorry… Explain.”

Shooting you a pointed look that told you to remain silent, he released your hand from his custody. “In order to ensure that you remember to keep your living space tidy, I’m having you manually clean both your room and our living room.”

Another argument was spilling from your lips as soon as you’d heard his punishment for you. “But between my room and the living room, the space is so big! It’ll take forever!”

“It took you a month to accumulate all this hair on the floor,” he pointed out. “I’m merely taking a few hours of your time in return; a few hours at most.” Seeing your silent disdain for his decision, he reluctantly added, “I will help you, if you’re willing to take this seriously.” Snapping his fingers, he held out a broom to you.

Inhaling deeply and sighing, you took a broom from him. “Fine. I’ll get started in my room…”

You were still partially grumbling to yourself and pouting as you walked through your open door, when Zyglavis called out again in warning, “And you’re not to use your powers. And don’t forget to sweep under your bed—I don’t want to imagine what it must look like under there…”

“You can keep your judgemental comments to yourself,” you snipped back, “Please, and thank you.”

As far as punishments went, this was far from the worst, you knew… Especially when you considered that it was coming from Zyglavis, the expert at punishments. Still, as always, Zyglavis was precise when coming up with a punishment that would fit the crime. This one was only so strange because it wasn’t entirely usual for him to join you in a punishment. Though, it wasn’t that surprising. He did have a soft spot for you, after all, and would always share your burdens. 

Thanks to his willing help, it didn’t take even an hour for the both of you to make a decent pile of hair in the middle of the living room. 

However… you were both tense and silent, neither daring to speak a word to the other. Now… Your shared silence wasn’t encouraged by the fact that the pile of hair was big enough to possibly manifest into a living creature at any given moment. No, it was more so… the fact that most of this pile of hair… didn’t look like your hair…

Quietly inhaling, you picked up a few of the long, blue strands of hair. Observing them for a moment, you held the strands between your fingers, holding them up between you and your brother before pensively asking, “Big brother…” You trailed off, pausing. “Do you want to say anything?”

Another moment of silence passed.

Zyglavis, hesitantly, finally opened his mouth to make a comment. “I have nothing to say, and you have nothing to say either.” He emphasized his words with a sharp look. 

Your gaze flitted to the pile of hair on the floor. Purposefully, you pointed out, “That’s not my hair.”

“(Name),” he said firmly, using his gaze alone to demand your silence.

No matter what he said at this point… This was, by majority, his pile of hair. “Zyg…” You said his name in the same manner that he spoke yours, shooting him a questioning look. His expression told you that he was rethinking his entire life. Still, you prodded, “You wanna check your carpet now…?”

Resigning himself to his fate, he turned to rigidly escape back to his room. “I will speak with you later,” he uncharacteristically mumbled.

Grinning smugly, you mocked, “Don’t forget to clean under your bed.”

He grunted.

“And Ziggy,” you mockingly added, “no powers.”

“(Name)!”

After a long moment of silent torture, you joined him in his room. You knew that he silently trudged back to his room to punish himself for what he’d forced you to endure by manually and painstakingly cleaning his carpet of his own hair. This was surely the only time you’d ever see your big brother on his hands and knees doing work. Because, sure, he could snap his fingers, but what lesson would there be to learn in that?

Still, he did it because of you… and you smiled affectionately at the unspoken meaning behind his actions. “Want some help?”

Not turning to meet your gaze, he sighed. “If you wouldn’t mind…” He was clearly flustered by his mistake, but it seemed it only gave you an excuse to spend some well-deserved quality time together.

[fe-fictions]

If you are accepting new ideas for fanfics; Love marks counter attack against Yuri! I think Byleth deserves her revenge xD

(Fam you know it ;0)

The wolf that occupied the space in bed beside you was up rather early, for a change. Though you suspected the reason was quite evident; given you mdae sure to exact your revenge thoroughly, last night.

You heard a soft gasp by the looking glass when he rose from bed, followed by an amused hum. Though the amusement slowly turned toi mild agitation when he realized the problem you created was far more serious than first thought.

“I know you’re awake,” You heard the slightest strain in his smooth tone of voice. “Would you care to explain this?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” You feigned ignorance, stretching sweetly in bed. You didn’t bother with modesty, seeing as your husband was equally bare in the morning light. Where you were calm and collected, though, you found a twitch of annoyance in Yuri’s girmace.

“We both know you plotted this.” He remained unconvinced, “There are far too many marks for this to be anything other than premeditated, and you know it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see what the issue is, darling. You’ll have to come a bit closer.” Yuri complied with a huff, crossing the floor back to you and leaning over you, eyes narrowed and unimpressed.

“I believe you were well aware what you were doing when you put these marks all over my neck. There isn’t a collar tall enough to cover them all…and the amount of makeup we’ll run through just to handle it, yet again, will be immense.”

“So it’s a problem when you run out of cover-up, but not me?” You quirked an eyebrow, running your fingers delicately over the bruised skin. You had to admit, the stark contrast between the marks and his lovely, pale tone was quite handsome. More importantly, it was very noticeable.

Yuri caught your hand, kissing your fingertips.

“I never said it wasn’t a problem when you ran out; I thought it was quite humorous to see you all worked up over such a trivial thing.”

“And it’s not trivial for you?”

“Of course it is. But it won’t stop me from being annoyed by it, you know.” He said, “I can’t blame you for getting revenge, in fact I’m rather impressed by it…but I cannot respect someone who would lie about committing their crime.”

“I’m not lying…I’m simply…denying that it was malicious.” You grinned at him, pulling him back onto the bed with you. Yuri fell into your arms, burying his face in your neck with a tired groan.

“We mustn’t dawdle any longer, Byleth…it’ll take some extra work to get rid of all this, not to mention we’ve already got a busy day ahead of us.”

“You’re starting to sound more like Seteth every day.” You giggled, running your hands through his hair. “I think we’ll survive just fine if we’re a few minutes late; it’ll be worth it to cover up your little problem. Perhaps it’ll make you think twice before being so brutish in the future.”

“I’ve never been brutish.” He grumbled, “That’s an accusation far more befitting of Balthus than I.”

“Yet Balthus would never mark his wife up and down with such scandalous love bites.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You don’t know him very well, then. Besides, if you’re going to levy such an accusation at me, you ought to take a look at yourself once in a while- you did far worse to me than I ever could have done to you.”

“A truth I take great pride in.” You mused, enjoying the sulking man cuddled up in your embrace. “I promise I won’t do it again…provided you do the same.”

“Ugh…fair is fair, I suppose.” He mumbled into your hair, “But you can’t keep me from teasing you, you know.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Perhaps just not so aggressively, in the future.”

“Very well,” He lifted his head, smiling at you. “Now enough lying about. Come help me fix this problem you made.”

“I told you, I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Enough of you.”

[bt-writing]

Windblume Confession

Diluc x gn!Reader

A/N: i feel so bad posting this with inazuma and all the new content... no one cares abt the windblume festival rn its 2.0 lolol. i wrote this during the windblume festival and thought i’d also share it on here. windblume plot doesn’t really have that much to do with the story itself so its whatever

warnings: cringe... but none

SFW

word count: 1.3k

summary: You fall victim to venti's schemes and are now on your way to confess to Diluc.

"Oh, Barbatos, I can't do this. This was stupid to begin with."

Your heart felt tight in your chest as you walked. Clammy hands fiddled around a bouquet of freshly picked small lamp grass. The blue petals were illuminated in the moonlight that shined down on Mondstadt. Small lamp grass always had a gentle, refreshing floral scent when it was picked, but you did not feel refreshed in the slightest. In fact, you were more than ready to throw up.

The Windblume Festival in Mondstadt was the designated time of year for romantic endeavors and confessions to occur. It was a time of independence, freedom, and love for the city. You planned to spend this year enjoying the culture and activities offered, but the Archons seemed to have other divine plans for you instead. The Archon, Barbatos, to be specific.

In order to make some quick cash for alcohol, Venti had been offering romantic poetry lessons to the citizens wishing to convey their feelings to their sweetheart or lover-to-be. You had no intentions of partaking in the romantic side of the festival, but a certain Cavalry Captain had managed to get you involved. Venti wanted wine from Kaeya, who would procure it from Diluc. Kaeya was unsure if he would actually be able to get the "payment" from Diluc, so he snitched on your feelings for the bartender to Venti.

Venti saw your struggle as potential—for more wine, that is. He decided to kill two birds with one stone, and now you were on your way to confess your love to the Dawn Winery's tycoon himself. Of course, part of you was doing this willingly.

It's become almost painful to be around Diluc lately. Your thoughts always became distracted when you were around him, and you're unable to focus during work and commissions at times due to thinking about him. He sent butterflies swarming into your stomach just from meeting his eyes, and his fire wasn't needed to make your cheeks flare red from heat. It was embarrassing how much of a wreck he made you.

You figured that finally confessing your feelings to Diluc was for the best, and maybe this push from Venti was exactly what you needed to get over him. There really was no harm in confessing. Having a crush on someone was akin to complimenting them. It meant you respected and admired them as a person. The only down side to confessing was the chance of rejection, which could put a strain on your relationship with Diluc and make things tense. Diluc was known to have antisocial tendencies, so maybe he would feel too awkward every time he saw you and end up avoiding you entirely.

But, it was too late to let that wonderful pep talk steer you away from your destination himself. Diluc had walked out of the Angel's Share bar and locked the door. He turned around and found your eyes staring at his. It had obviously been a busy night at the bar, as Diluc only ever put his beautiful hair in a high ponytail on busy nights. The moon's soft luminescence served to highlight the light flush on his cheeks. Diluc's smile was gentle and warm as he raised a gloved hand to greet you.

That kind smile felt like an arrow being shot into your stomach, causing you to inhale sharply. There was no turning back now. You softly cradled the bouquet to your chest with one arm, and raised the other arm to return his greeting. Reluctantly, your legs slowly began to make their way towards him.

"What are you doing out this late, (Y/N)?" Diluc questioned. His eyes glanced over the bouquet you carried, but refrained from asking anything about it. You bit the inside of your cheek for a second, thinking about the words you would use to end your favorite friendship. You took in a deep breath.

"I came to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have a few minutes to spare? I know it's pretty late."

"I do. What do you need?" He stood looking down at you. Your body was hot and fidgety under his gaze. It wasn't even an option to continue looking at his expecting eyes, so you settled on giving your speech to his boots.

"Diluc... I know you're a busy man with a large burden put on your shoulders. I see how hard you work for the winery, and you're always so diligent." You nervously played with the parchment wrapping around the bouquet you held. "You take care of everything almost effortlessly, but I know you probably put a lot of stress on yourself to make it seem that way, and I really respect you for it. I respect how you treat your workers with kindness and put their needs above yours... You have such a kind heart to everyone, including me. For as long as I've known you, I've always seen you put others before yourself, like staying out late and putting yourself at risk for the sake of Mondstadt." You paused for a second to breathe deeply, the heavy silence quickly scaring you back into talking.

"I really do...think very highly of you." Your cheeks hurt from how hot they were. "But, the more I got to know you, I recognized other things about you. You have every reason to be cold and spiteful, yet you continue to have the most loving heart out of anyone I've met. You're selfless and brave, and you never expect anyone to thank you. Lately, I'm unable to focus around you anymore. Whenever I'm with you, I feel so giddy that I don't know what to do with myself. You make me feel so safe and happy, no matter where we are or what we're doing. With every moment I spend with you, Diluc, I just...

"I realize how in love with you I am!"

It was terribly quiet now, and your heart was beating so fast that you expected to start seeing dots any second. You had said your feelings to Diluc, and there was no going back. You expected an awkward cutoff at some point to save you from the embarrassment of an unreciprocating rejection, or at least a quick, curt response, but neither seemed to come. Some time had passed after your confession, so you decided to look up at Diluc's face.

When you met Diluc's scarlet eyes, you immediately saw the dark red blush that covered the poor man's surprised face. If you didn't feel that exact same heat on your own face, you probably would have thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. Your own eyes stared into his bright red ones for what felt like an eternity, until he finally opened his mouth to respond. "You sure know how to catch me off-guard, (Y/N)." He chuckled softly, his words doing nothing to dismiss the rocks settling in your stomach. It felt like you would die if he didn't give you a proper response soon.

Diluc stepped towards you, quickly closing the distance between your bodies. He leaned down and brought his hand up to your hair, brushing it back. Soft lips pressed gently against your forehead and another hand moved to cup the side of your jaw. Your eyes went wide and your mouth opened slightly in surprise. Diluc removed his lips and stood up straight, taking your hand in his and tracing your knuckles with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I made you confess first, (Y/N)… I've shared your feelings for a long time. Hearing you say those words—I genuinely thought I was in a dream." His sweet laugh fell out of from his lips once again. This time, instead of making you feel heavy, you decided it was your new favorite sound—one that made you feel light and free. His laugh was the perfect sound for the Windblume Festival.

[apimpnamedlo]

That’s just my Baby Daddy (headcanons)

warnings: fluff, a little angst, mentions of pregnancy

A/N: These are just little headcanons I thought up with @shisoaya 🥰 Thank you bby for keeping my head straight when it comes to these men.

Enjoy!

Eren

For starters, your first bundle of joy was conceived in the last year of your college careers.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t convince Eren that just because you were on the pill DID NOT mean that he could “shoot up the club” 😐

He probably got the message loud and clear when you passed him a positive pregnancy test.

He was probably really upset that you two didn’t have anything together, but you wanted to keep the baby and he respected your decision. Thankfully, this man had a reason to buckle down and start taking his studies seriously. By the time you graduated, he graduated with marks thats showed his effort. Please be proud of him 🥺 he did it for you and the baby!

Gets all of his teachings from Carla and unfortunately, has her and his dad on speed dial whenever you mention the slightest of things.

Mumbles to your stomach in the sweetest broken German, getting a head start on bonding with his baby. He’s really just so sweet 🥺

Wants to know the gender IMMEDIATELY. He’s at every appointment with high hopes.

Probably tears up at the little shoes he comes across, and will walk around the store with a matching pair for the three of you until you reluctantly agree to let him buy them.

You two have a perfectly healthy baby girl, and from that point on Eren has TWO apples of his eye.

Later on in life, Eren took time to make sure the both of you had another one just so that your oldest wasn’t lonely. Your second was a boy. Even then when your home wasn’t rowdy enough? The two of you sat down and discussed adoption. A few years after going through the process, you brought home your second sweet little boy.

He’s so proud to have completed such a loving family with you.

And all it took was him wanting a nut LOL-

LEVI

This man didn’t think about kids when the two of you got married. Honestly, he was probably waiting on you to take the first move when you were comfortable.

But when you asked him to start trying, who was he to say no?

It took time and preparation. Levi wasn’t producing a high enough cell count, and a baby seemed so far away. It seemed over time, the two of you tried everything.

When the light of having one looked a little too dim?

You called him at work with the big news. Finally you two were blessed with a baby.

You think your nesting was bad? Levi was horrible when it came to having the house spotless in the duration of your pregnancy.

Doesn’t want to know the gender until the baby is born. This man is more than excited to be surprised.

The both of you are all too familiar with the house smelling as sterile as a hospital.

Once, Hange came over just to hang out with him and before they could even sneeze? Levi was spraying the air with disinfectant 💀 and them-

Bright side? He’s going to spend so much time with your bump as possible, making sure the baby knew he loved him and that he’d be there for them always.

He’s a master at making soothing teas for your stomach or anything else that’s bothering you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took up giving you rub downs whenever you asked just to make sure you’re always happy. 

And don’t mention the fridge full of whatever you were craving or things to make meals you asked for any time of the night.

Surprisingly enough, yours and Levi’s son was born on Christmas Day, the same as their father. Smooth, evenly scheduled process on his part, he really got things done aside from labor. It really was a miracle that day because out of the pictures you do have with the often stoic man, his smile of pride and joy made everything worth it.

ZEKE

Ever heard of the term one and done?

Zeke has. He wants a kid, but he’s just so busy.

He really makes sure to make sure to work on the two of you first, the first few years of marriage being blissful and full of nothing but communication.

Zeke probably would worry about making the same mistakes as his divorced parents, and that’s why he steadily worked through himself to prepare to give your child nothing but love and support.

Don’t worry. He’s building his fortune in the duration of his residency, and honestly all that’s left is to be able to swipe a card without checking his balance. After that?

He’s on you like white on rice.

Planned sex is definitely a thing with you two, carefully calculated to your fertile windows. This man is skipping work to make sure you two conceive, leaving meetings or family/friend outings without so much as a bye 👋🏾 You two have a baby to make

Before you got pregnant, he definitely tries his best to stop smoking cigarettes 🥺

He’d like to be surprised. Probably will invite your close friends and family to a gender reveal.

When you conceived, he probably already knew. This man studies the hell out of you. The slightest thing will bring his attention to you, and just like that he’s gonna know.

Knows how heavy the baby would get so definitely picks up your belly when you look like you need the relief 🥺 He’s such an observant daddy-

Like Eren, speaks German to your baby but his is much better and thicker in accent. Zeke will speak to your baby and compliment you while he’s at it. He can’t wait to teach them 🥰

“Your mother has to be a warrior to carry you.”

“Calm down, little one.”

BASEBALL. ONSIES. ALL OVER. This man is READY to play catch with his kid, no matter what.

Will argue with the doctors at your appointments. He just will. If he can’t attend, bet your ass he’s gonna chew someone out over FaceTime for even the slightest mistakes.

When your son is born, Zeke is definitely scared after all of his preparations. Would he be good enough? Could he keep his family together? Could he really be the doting father that his son needs?

When he looks into his eyes that are an exact copy of yours?

He’s sure he can.

JEAN

I don’t think you two were trying, but the pregnancy was surely a welcomed surprise.

He’s a mama’s boy, so be prepared to be catered to every second of the day.

Still is gonna complain tho, with the stupidest smile on his face.

Wants another and THIS ONE ISNT DONE BAKING YET-

Honestly, I think Jean would want to know the gender immediately because he’s a little too excited for a baby. And he’s so happy to be having a little girl 🥺

The two of you are probably going to butt heads on names a lot. The two of you have a list of names that are stubbornly crossed out, and you only get two options until one is left standing you agree on.

Is probably plotting out the cutest little outfits with his mom, who’s making sure her son is taking GOOD care of you.

You definitely are going to eat probably the best with him during the pregnancy.

I don’t make the rules, this man’s daughter has him wrapped around his finger when she’s born.

The both of you are neck and neck when it comes to checking her 24/7 the first year of her life. Cant be too careful, right?

ARMIN

Definitely wants kids.

Would be another planned pregnancy, but the surprise came in the form of two sets of feet.

That’s right 🥺 He’d be the proud father of ✨identical ✨twins.

Armin is so gentle through the entire pregnancy. He’s always studying how to best care for them, quietly prepping your home while you rest to house your growing family.

He’s the one to remind you to take your vitamins daily.

You’d be so cherished 🥺 The bby is becoming a father, and he’s gonna be emotional about it. Not out of fear, but the pride and joy just well up sometimes, ya know?

Wants the gender to be a surprise for a gender reveal he planned 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I wanna have a baby for him too-

Has an app on his phone telling him how big your baby is, what they’re the size of, etc.

Slow dancing in the delivery room? I’ve got to say, Armin wouldn’t be scared to get in there and help you through the entire process. He’s probably the most hands on.

When the twins are born, Armin takes sweet time in learning his sons and the littlest things about them. He knows them by how they sneeze, the look of their little toes and the thick mess of hair that looked like a mixture between the two of you

10000/10 would make this man a daddy.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love Pt. 2 (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T? Maybe? Almost the exact opposite of the first one. Language, minor violence Genre: Fluff, mainly, with admittedly a little bit of humor? I blame my lack of sleep. And my adhd. Warnings: Implied cannibalism adjacent activities because guess what honey, this is a fucked up family, what do you expect of me??? Sure, they have breakfast in this, there's cute stuff, but c'mon, they don't eat flowers and oatmeal! Notes: Doubt it needs to be said, but this is a sequel to the good ending of part one. Also Cass has one line in this that might be OOC, or seem oddly placed, but admittedly this chapter is also loosely based on a dream I had, and I couldn't not include the few direct quotations I remembered, and she seemed the most likely to say the line. And yes, there will be a part 3, because I am weak and also kind of maybe made this one less plot-moving than intended.

{Wounded Love: The re-woundening}

Every step ached more than the last, even with Alcina supporting you. She had wanted to carry you down the stairs, of course, but you had insisted that you would be fine. Now you were just determined not to complain out loud. One yelp or cry and you’d be scooped up in her arms, surely to be carried for the rest of the day. As much as you appreciated your girlfriend’s assistance, you hated feeling useless, and hated putting a burden on others. So here you were, one arm wrapped around Alcina’s waist, limping ever-so-slowly towards the dining room.

Further ahead (unburdened by your injury) the three Dimitrescu daughters talk among themselves, voices hushed as they too headed for breakfast. It was odd to see them all awake, and socializing, as there was usually at least one who came to meals late. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with your condition… or the circumstances that had caused it.

Less than eighteen hours had passed since your fight with a stray lycan, and tension had been high since. While you hadn’t yet spoken to the sisters, you had spoken to Alcina, who had briefly mentioned their concern for you. Whether they actually cared about you as a person or just cared because you are dating their mother is unclear. Based on how they had acted while treating your wounds, though, you were inclined to think that they were fond of you. And seeing as Alcina had already vowed to get revenge on your behalf… well, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her daughters intended to assist.

“Careful on the last step, dear,” Alcina says, positioned as to catch you if you fell. It takes a little willpower to resist the urge to hop down the rest of the way. As long as you landed on your uninjured leg, it wouldn’t even be that bad. Still, irritating your girlfriend first thing in the morning felt like a pretty stupid thing to do. Instead you just nodded, slowing down even more, and took visible care not to trip. “Good girl.”

Well, you certainly couldn’t say that being careful didn’t have its rewards.

“I have my moments,” you replied, blush rising to your cheeks. Suddenly your pain didn’t feel so bad (at least until you took another step and winced). “Damn, who woulda thought that cutting a chunk out of my leg would make it hurt more?” The leg in question throbbed in pain, as if to prove your point, protesting the weight you put on it. Changing the angle at which you stood helped some, allowing the lower half of the limb to bear more of the burden.

“Dearest…” Alcina starts to say, looking like she was going to readdress her desire to carry you. For a moment you try to avoid her gaze, but she moves in front of you, making sure that you could still hold onto her for support. “I know how you feel, how you want, desperately, to be independent. When I was first… granted this gift, it took a long time to adjust. There was so much I had to relearn how to do, so much that I suddenly needed done for me.” A pause, a deep breath. At last you look up at your girlfriend, warmth in your heart, reaching out to hold her hand. “You have time, my dear, and plenty of it. More than that… this will not last forever. The more you push yourself, the longer your recovery will take. Now, please, allow me to assist. You have already proven how strong you are.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain… but if you insist, who am I to decline? Or, well, who am I to decline twice in a row?” You answer, somewhat begrudgingly. It wasn’t much farther to the dining room, you figured, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss to accept help. Or at least that was what you told yourself. Even with Alcina’s encouragement it was so hard for you to accept her help. After all, you were the one that worked for her. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat responsible for your injury- really, you were actively avoiding thinking about that.

It’s much easier to forget once Alcina carefully picks you up. One arm goes under your legs, the other under your chest, lifting you without any effort. You might as well have been a kitten or a child’s toy. The movement does, however, shift your injured leg in such a way that it aches. At this point you can hardly move the limb at all without it hurting, and even the slightest friction against the bandage makes your eyes water.

Apparently someone would be delivering some painkillers later in the day. You assumed it would be The Duke (whose name is apparently not Doug, as you had thought), seeing as he knew some special way to get to and fro without risking the same fate that had befallen you. Which, of course, made you feel a lot better. Getting someone else hurt would weigh on your mind forever.

Regardless, you were safe now, as was your strange, bloody little family. Before long you would even be enjoying a pleasant meal together. Certainly that would help get your mind off of your wound? For now, though, you were met with an unexpected impasse. The sort of impasse that really, really should have been expected.

“Why… is the doorway… so small?” You asked, jokingly, as you stare into the mildly embarrassed face of your girlfriend. It’s already hard enough for her to crouch through the gap normally. When she’s carrying you? Impossible. “Can we ask Mother Miranda for bigger doors? She gave you eternal life and also three kids, she’s gotta be capable of making bigger doors. Put me down, I’ll go call her and-”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Alcina cuts you off, not fully appreciating this part of your humor. Or maybe she had already asked for bigger doors, only to be told no?... Okay, yeah, it was probably the first option. With a sigh she sets you down, as gently as she can manage. Ready and raring to go, you start to hobble forward, only to find all three of the daughters waiting for you, just beyond the door. They’re grinning as they watch you, and Bela extended her arm to offer her help. “What appears to be the matter?” Alcina asks from behind you. Accepting your fate and Bela’s arm, you let the sisters guide you to the table, Cassandra holding your other side, and Daniela pulls your chair out for you. Honestly it’s pretty adorable. Evidently your girlfriend agrees, from the way she smiles as she follows.

“Thank you,” you say, more out of reflex than genuine gratitude. Again, you weren’t thrilled about needing this assistance. If the girls notice they’re at least polite enough not to mention it. They simply move to their own seats at the large table, eager to dig in. It feels… strange, to be here, on this side of things. Stranger still to realize you’re the only one intending to eat actual food. There’s wine in your glass, but it’s a much fainter red than those you’ve previously served to your girlfriend. Thank goodness, you think, after how raw my throat was yesterday, I really don’t need to taste any more blood.

Once Lady Dimitrescu sits down, the meal formally begins, with several maidens appearing from the kitchen. Several seem relieved to see you, although surprised, and one even gave you a brief smile. The smile did not last, however. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the nature of her job, the pressures that it put upon her. No one smiled at mealtimes. Well, no maidens, that is. They simply moved around, wordlessly, faces blank, doing exactly as instructed. Only a few days ago you had been among them, fear keeping you in line. Was it wrong of you to care for Alcina, knowing what she was capable of doing to others? Knowing what she might have, in another life, done to you?

A maiden places a plate of warm food, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit, in front of you. For a moment your eyes meet, but she looks away instinctively. Your heart threatens to break.

“This looks wonderful, thank you for your hard work, all of you,” you speak up, glancing at each of the women working so hard. There’s more you want to say that dries in your throat; you are valued, you are deserving, someday I will join your ranks again.

“You don’t need to thank them, they’re just doing their jobs,” Cassandra chimes from the other side of the table. Hearing her say that damn near makes you drop your fork. It’s not an uncommon settlement, particularly among older generations and the rich, but one that irks you nonetheless.

“They’re doing my job. They are taking on extra work, for no pay, because I am injured. Why would I be so cruel as to ignore them? Have I not toiled alongside them enough to call them my kin?” You ask, struggling to keep your voice even. Next to you Alcina is slowly cutting into her meat, watching the scene unfold out of the corner of her eyes, perhaps considering when to step in. On the other end of the table, Bela looks increasingly uncomfortable, as if silently willing her sister into silence. None of the maidens have reacted to what you said, likely too afraid of Cassandra to even consider speaking.

“Ooooh, this is much more fun than our usual breakfasts,” Daniela says, stifling a giggle. “Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share? Preferably ones that aren’t about me.” At this, Alcina sets her utensils down, clearly intending to put an end to the discussion. Unfortunately for her, you were a bit… impulsive, especially considering the previous night’s activities had left your mind struggling to cope.

“Dead lycans smell terrible. Literally the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, easily, no question about it,” you answer, shrugging a little as you do. It’s such a simple thought that you almost don’t realize how the others at the table react. Until the clatter of silverware on the table catches your attention, that is. All three sisters are eying you with different expressions (Bela is confused, Cass is impressed, and Daniela looks shocked). But it’s Alcina’s wide-eyed stare that gets you to elaborate. “Should I have said ‘a dead lycan’? I only got one, so I guess I shouldn’t say they all smell bad. C’mon, though, they have to all smell bad, right?”

Suddenly Daniela shifts from shock to pure amusement, a fit of giggles overtaking her. You’re still confused, not sure what the matter was, so you just sip your wine and hope someone asks the right questions.

“You… killed the lycan that attacked you?” Bela finally says, after a few moments of her sister laughing, expression still incredulous. When you nod she sort of shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “May I ask how you managed that?”

“Oh, you know, I just meh meh-” you mime a stabbing motion with your fork- “until the stupid thing stopped moving. I had to use a tree branch as a weapon, but then it broke after a few whacks, which actually helped because then I had two stabbing implements to, you know, stab with. That’s right around when it got my leg, and it tried to bite me. Thankfully it wasn’t very smart, so when it leapt at me I just hyah-” this time an upwards strike- “right into its neck. That didn’t kill it, but it was enough to slow it down, which allowed me to stab the other half of the branch into its skull. Made this horrible, horrible sound as it died. Seeing as we are eating, I will not imitate the sound. Not that I could, now that I think about it…”

Once again there’s silence. Even Daniela has quieted now, and is watching you with rapt interest, likely hoping that you’re hiding another story up your sleeves.

“So… did you guys actually think that I managed to run away from the lycan? Or were you under the impression that it simply got bored of me and left?” You ask, casually returning to your breakfast afterwards. No one says anything, at first, taking in your words as best as they can. A few moments later both Daniela and Bela resume their meal, as nonchalant as one could be in the current situation. Alcina, however, rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with a loving look.

“You will never cease to amaze me, my dear. But let us ensure you never have to… smell, or see, one of those wretched things again, yes?” She says, softly squeezing you as she does. You can’t help but agree, and nod eagerly, mouth too full of hashbrowns to speak. Still, there’s been a shift in the atmosphere of the room. It’s not that the family didn’t respect you before, as far as you can tell, but they evidently hadn’t expected you to prove as capable as you had. It brings a sense of pride to the forefront of your mind, making you completely forget about your injury for the remainder of the meal.

Unable to stop yourself, you insist on helping the other maidens clean up, and Alcina eventually agrees to let you wash a few dishes- as long as you stay sitting the entire time. The last thing you hear before you shuffle off to the kitchen is the start of a conversation between Cassandra and her mother.

“You picked quite a feisty one, didn’t you?”

“That I did, that I did…”

[fandomvariousness]

Finally

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence & death, nsfw content

Summary: reader finally sees her lover Eren after the team retrieves him to the airship, yet he’s not the same. Will she bring him back?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Forgive me if some details are inaccurate, this is my rendering of the situation, so some things may not add up!

Finally.

Finally, the day you’re going to see Eren again.

You shivered with anticipation, thinking about the letters that were going sparse, until there were none. You’ve been inseparable, supporting each other every step of the way, but Eren had to deal with unthinkable, horrible things along the same steps too, and you couldn’t take all of it away – the burning hatred seeped into his brain, numbing his senses and compassion.

He offered no explanation in letters as to why he’d stopped writing so often, and you didn’t ask for one – he’s in enemy’s land, surely he has his reasons, but deep down you knew he was pushing you away.

What were you going to say to him? Will you hug him? Will he hug you? You had no idea, and it was killing you.

Your adrenaline was over the roof. Everything around you was destroyed, splintered, ground to pieces – Eren did that.

It seemed that you lost it when you realized that Eren had transformed without the care of hurting innocent civilians – his sense of revenge was stronger than anything else. You haven’t been able to approach him yet, to look into his mesmerizing jade eyes. You suspected Captain Levi has positioned you away from him on purpose – who knows how you and Eren would’ve reacted to each other’s presence after so long.

You felt the insides of your stomach turn as you hooked your cables on the airship and zipped-lined towards it. Just a minute ago you saw how Mikasa made it inside, dragging Eren along. You heard a commotion above you – Captain Levi was cussing Eren out. The casual.

You felt how everyone stopped whatever they were doing as you were climbing on board – secretly, they all wanted to know what will happen once you two meet again. That’s how powerful you two are. Were.

Out of breath, you stood up, regaining your posture, your rifle still in hands as you finally looked at him: if not for the emerald sheen of his eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized this ragged, miserable man with a chestnut resembling that of a lion.

You stared into each other, the unbearable grief that consumed you rendering you immobile. Quickly, your vision worsened, tears blurring your eyes as you realized there’s nothing behind those of Eren. He looks at you, yet doesn’t say anything, doesn’t feel anything.

“Move,” Captain Levi muttered and lightly pushed you aside.

You tore your gaze away from Eren, breathing shallow breaths as you stumbled towards the wall, leaning on it.

And then you heard the shot.

~

It was unbearable. One fleeting moment, one slightest miscalculation, and she’s gone. Sasha is gone.

You kneeled beside her tomb with your head hanging down, hot teardrops sinking into the pale stone. Everything was always shit, but now… now it’s pure hell. You sobbed and raised your head to look at the cloudy sky, cutting off the air flow, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” Jean approached you, Connie not far behind. “Come here.”

He crouched down to your level and placed his palms on your shoulders reassuringly, helping you stand up.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. He kept to himself in his quarters, but Captain Levi forbid anyone to properly visit him anyway. He thought Eren’s unstable.

But you thought the opposite. Eren’s perfectly stable – the deadly precision, calculation and determination fueled his conscious, revenge-fueled decisions, and frankly, you were afraid. He wasn’t thrashing around like he would years ago, screaming and tearing everything apart, consumed by fury – he knew what he was doing now.

The last time you laid eyes on him was during Sasha’s funeral, but it seemed that he wasn’t even there. His body was, of course, but his mind was fleeting somewhere else, somewhere where he could continue plotting the utter extermination of every last one of his enemies.

It’s going to be hard, bringing him back. Hell, you didn’t even know if it’s possible – he truly looked like a goner. But you were going to try, because there isn’t any other living being in the world you love more than Eren Jaeger.

~

You sat on your bed, facing the one that belonged to Sasha. She would tell you to stand up and go straight to Eren and whoop his ass for ignoring you.

You sank your teeth in your lower lip as you stood up and made your way towards Captain Levi’s office.

“Come in,” his low voice muttered after you knocked. He rolled his eyes when he saw it’s you.

“What is it?” he asked, his desk already stuffed with a bunch of paperwork.

“I need to visit Eren.” you realized how selfish your request sounds in the midst of everything, but you couldn’t help it.

“No.” he answered after a few seconds of regarding you, without any care in the world. “You’ll just wind him up.”

Your heart skipped a beat – if Captain Levi thought that Eren still feels something for you, then maybe it’s true.

“Please, Captain, I –”

“Stop whining, brat.” he hissed, silencing you.

There was a wall of miscommunication between the two of you as you stared at each other, trying to convince one another silently.

He put down his pen after a few moments and leaned back in his chair as he sighed slowly. “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

You shrugged ever so slightly as you stared at nothing in particular.

Some more silence passed. “I’ve not yet decided on giving you week’s-worth punishment for insubordination, but go. Get out.”

“Thank you, Captain.” you bowed your head to him quickly, suppressing your smile as you basically ran away.

Levi rubbed his forehead. “Stupid brats.”

~

As you approached the door of Eren’s room, your heart pounded against your ribs so hard, you truly thought they’re going to crack. Yet here you were, standing within a step from the door, eyeing the little crack of light that emits from within – it’s not completely closed.

You lifted your trembling arm and knocked softly, then once again, harder this time, thinking he may not have heard it.

“Eren?” you whispered weakly after you got no reply once again.

You gulped and pushed the door further, stepping in – empty. He’s not here.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you stepped further, looking around. The whole room looked almost untouched if not for the sack of a few items he brought from his old room. Your eyes flicked towards a stack of letters on the desk – your letters.

Your lower lip quivered as you approached them, picking one up – not even opened.

Pain and anger spun like a vortex inside you, bringing hot tears to your eyes. How important must’ve been the reason that he denied you the slightest explanation?

The letter dropped back to the desk as you flinched, hearing the door shut behind you.

Gasping quietly, you turned around, seeing him clearly for the first time since a couple of days ago. He stood there in all his cool, newfound glory: hair long enough to be messily gathered in a bun, naked torso adorned with chiseled abs, V line protruding from his waistline, and pants that hugged his muscular legs.

He had a toweled hanging over his shoulder – that’s where he’s been, in the showers.

You didn’t know what was the exact reason for the hot blush that crept to your face in a second – the fact that Eren is even more attractive than you remember, or that you stood there like a mute, with your jaw basically on the floor.

His own gaze was unreadable – he watched you like a hawk as he approached the chair and draped the towel over its back, stuffing his hands in his pockets afterwards.

You snapped awake, glancing at the letters behind you, and then back at him. “You never opened them.”

“You need to forget me,” he spoke, staring directly in your eyes. “I’ve only have a few years left anyway, if I’m lucky.”

It hurt you how assured of his words he was as you turned your body from him, desperately trying to calm down. He stood there just the same when you dared to look at him again.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, failing to conceal the tremble that laced your voice. “I’ve told you countless times, I’m with you until the end, and even then.”

“That’s exactly why.” he raised his voice just a bit, reminding of the old Eren you used to know. “I can’t bear the fact that you’re okay with… all this.”

You covered your face with your palms momentarily before stepping a couple of steps closer to him. “Did you honestly think I’ll go down with this scheme of yours?”

“I’m determined to make it happen.”

“Eren, don’t be stupid!” you couldn’t control yourself anymore. “I’m not some… weak maiden in need of constant attention! I’m your partner!”

“You want to be partner of the monster that I am?” he asked, a faint hint of disappointment in his voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Eren…”

“I’m a murderer.” he said as he lessened the space between you a little more, trying to impose his truth on you – you could almost feel his breath on your skin, what made another shiver run down your spine.

You opened your eyes abruptly, because you knew he expected that you won’t be able to even look at him after what he’s done. His jade eyes were the same as before as you drowned in them.

You couldn’t help as you placed your dainty palms on his ripped upper arms, the tips of your fingers jolting with electricity. Eren felt that too, for you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

You were going to say something, but right now you couldn’t focus on anything other than your skins touching again, after all this time. You gulped as you gathered courage to lightly stroke down to his forearms.

“You’re not a monster.” you spoke again. “You’re just a hurt boy who can’t help but hurt others.”

He stayed silent, because he knew it’s true. You always did this to him – always had one last argument that made him shut up. His eyes became glassy as he looked down in shame, gripping your own forearms in his calloused palms.

“Come here,” you mumbled as you wound your arms around his neck, cradling him, as his own arms snaked around your waist, head buried in the crook of your neck.

You were only hugging, but it felt ecstatic. You gripped him tightly, swearing to yourself never to let go again. You felt a few wet drops run down your shoulder, yet Eren didn’t release a sound – you knew he was holding back.

“I’m sorry for everything.” he whispered. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Eren, you’re never getting rid of me.” you whispered into his hair before planting a tender kiss on his head.

He released a breathy laugh, tickling your neck. You nuzzled into each other more, and then you felt his lips on your neck, pecking it lightly, immediately blazing flames in your lower region.

You arched your neck back, providing him with an easier access to your skin. You couldn’t suppress a small gasp as his hot breath trailed up to your jaw, along with his longing-filled kisses.

“I missed you.” he whispered against your jaw, before pecking just below the corner of your lips.

Your mind was already in shambles. “Believe me, I missed you more.”

Your lips finally collided: desperate, needy, hungry. His fingers dug into your hips, aligning your centers as your palms slid down to the either side of his neck. You moaned into his lips between the famished, open-mouthed kisses as he gripped your behind, trying to savor it all.

Your palms were running down his chest on their own, exploring every crevice and scar, some old and some new, still unexplored. You felt his hand slide under the hem of your shirt up to your ribs, leaving a scalding-hot trail in its wake.

You rutted your hips against his automatically, getting needier with every passing second, your hands hooked around his neck again, holding on for dear life.

Your jaw slacked as he sneaked his hand under your bra, his fingers coming in contact with your hardened nipple. He drew back a little so that he could see your flushed face and hazy eyes, a light sheen of saliva reflecting from your slightly lolled out tongue.

“More, you say? Just how much?” he teased, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips repeatedly, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly.

“Really, really much,” you whimpered before he discarded you of your shirt and bra, his hands roaming down your sides as he sucked on your jugular, your hands buried in his hair, ruining his bun.

“Jump.” he said between the wet kisses as you felt his hands under your thighs.

He made his way towards the bed before gently dropping you down on it, feeling the tent in his pants become unbearable, almost painful. How could it not, when you lay sprawled out under him, hair messy around your head like a halo, all the while needy breaths escaping your lips?

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but you wanted to drive him crazy, to make up for all the painful time you’ve spent apart. You started wriggling out of your leggings, your gaze never leaving his eyes. He unbuttoned his own pants before they slid to the ground, revealing a formed tent under his boxers.

Suddenly, he grabbed you by your calves and yanked you closer, forcing a yelp from you. Second after his lips crashed on yours again, making their way down, passing your neck, collarbones, stomach, until they reached their destination.

You found it hard to breathe as he kissed your inner tight, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Eren,” you whimpered, your eyes closed, hands gripping the sheets. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your thigh before his tongue flicked against your clothed clit lightly, coaxing another high-pitched moan from you.

You put the back of your hand against your mouth quickly, embarrassed at the sudden reaction. You felt the bed shift before you opened your eyes and saw him parallel with your own body again.

“Don’t,” he asked as he removed your arm from your face. “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

He kissed you once before making his way back, hooking his fingers on your panties and sliding them down painfully slowly. The cold air on your skin peppered it with goosebumps, yet when you felt Eren’s face lower to your center, your body ignited once again.

A moan got stuck in your throat as you felt Eren’s slick tongue go all the way from your entrance to your clit, circling it, literally driving you crazy.

“Eren,” you moaned, the back of your head buried into the mattress as you wound your hands through his hair, completely ruining the bun, his chestnut hair falling to the sides and framing his face.

His fingers dug into your thighs as he pleasured you with his tongue, awakening the passion in you that was dormant during his absence.

Eren loved the taste of you on his tongue as he sucked on you, holding down your squirming hips. He knew you were close; he remembers everything your body language tells him.

“E-Eren, I’m gonna—” you choked out, confirming his observations.

You felt cold air hit your slick folds as Eren drew back, quickly discarding himself of his last piece of clothing before he leaned down, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Ready?” he breathed into your lips, receiving a nod.

The burning sensation followed his dick breaching your entrance, stretching it out after so long.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, having forgotten just how good your pussy feels.

You choked out a groan as you wound your legs around his waist, urging him to plunge deeper, despite the slight pain that strains you.

“This good?” he asks between his heavy breathing as he makes his way deeper into you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, your voice out of tune.

He finally hits your cervix, staying like that for a few moments, allowing you to adjust, peppering your neck with kisses as your chest rises and falls heavily.

You kiss his lips as you place a hand against his buttocks, urging him to go on. He goes back to the point of pulling out before hitting you deep again, building up his pace as he does so.

Your mind is getting hazier with each thrust – it seemed that the room turned into a sauna as you could almost see the huffs of air that escaped both of your mouths.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he groaned against your ear as he pinned your hand above to your head, intertwining his fingers with yours.

He was barely controlling himself as your pussy clenched around him – he probably never had to restrain himself with you as he does now, regarding the absence of your touch for such a long amount of time. You’ve never been apart that long, and he hoped you’ll never be again.

“Eren!” you screamed, sensing your release fast approaching as you wound your hands around his neck.

He pounded into you hard, bringing some steamy memories of your times before for a moment.

Finally, you fell, arching your back, your stomach gliding against his, as every nerve of your brain exploded. Eren continued thrusting into you until a few moments after you felt his own release spilling inside you.

He moaned against the crook of your neck, planting a few kisses. He rolled to your side and faced the ceiling with his eyes closed, until they snapped open again, hearing you sniffle.

Guilt washed over him like a tempest as he leaned on his side, gently gripping your waist as you covered your eyes with the back of your forearm. “Did I hurt you??”

“No!” you yelped and removed your arm from your face, placing your palm on his cheek instead. For a moment you were so frightened he would blame himself for something he didn’t even do.

“No,” you repeated, more softly. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He leaned his forehead to yours, worry leaving his body almost visibly. He sighed as he brought you closer.

You tucked a few of his locks behind his ear, making him look a couple years younger. “I love your hair.”

Eren chuckled, his eyes still closed in the afterglow bliss. “Captain hates it. He said –”

Then it dawned on him. “Wait, how did you get here?” he leaned on his forearm as he looked at you, genuinely interested, amusement threatening to widen his smile any moment.

“I simply asked Captain.”

Eren raised an eyebrow. “And he let you?? Just like that?”

“Well,” you trailed off. “He did mention something about a punishment for insubordination…”

“Unbelievable,” Eren whispered, as he sunk back into the mattress, quiet laughs emanating from his chest, as you drew shapes on it with a stupid smile on your face. “And you still came.”

“I’ll be fine if you visit me at least twice while I’m behind bars?”

You two laughed even harder, and this moment, this tiny moment in the vast space surrounding everything, was perfect.

[dracowars]

i read your first request and it’s AMAZING!! i loved it soo much, so i was wondering if you could write smth where y/n is dracos gf - they meet in his dorm room after class, but one day she’s super late and acting really weird, draco doesn’t bother, tries to comfort her, and maybe get a lil steamy, but she doesn’t want to.. he then discovers scaring on her hand, and she tells him that crabble sent her to umbridge for doing smth bad.. you can decide on the plot, those are just some ideas! xx

engraved | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,0k

summary: where y/n's visit to the new headmistress leads to a heated argument with draco

a/n: thank you very much for your kind words and for requesting, i really hope that you like it <3

warnings: a little steamy, angst, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to hold back the tears, you run down the sparse torch-lit corridors of Hogwarts, your footsteps echoing from the thick stone walls around you creating the only other sound besides your soft sobs. You press your left hand against your chest while you burst into the closest girls' bathroom, which is completely empty at this time, especially since Dolores Umbridge is in charge of the rules here.

It has been less than a month since she crept into school as the new headmistress and everything is already upside down. Students are allowed to walk around at a certain time only, detours between lessons are not acceptable at all, couples are almost no longer allowed to exist and actually, just all kind of fun and joy at Hogwarts has been extingusihed by her rules.

However, worst of all are the punishments for breaking any of Umbridge's thousand rules. Recently she has founded the so-called Inquisitorial Squad, a select group of students who help her to locate every kind of violations happening around the school. They sneak around the hallways on their hourly tours at night and report every so tiny thing to their new boss immediately. Most of these students are, of course, Slytherin's. Your boyfriend Draco was also offered to become a part of this squad, which he gladly accepted and was named its leader. You exactly know how perfect Draco fits into the role of the bad and ruthless leader, but still, you weren't very happy about it. After all, this woman is currently destroying your second home and he is helping her in a certain way.

Being the girlfriend of the Inquisitorial Squad's leader made you think that nothing can harm you, but oh, you were terribly wrong. Usually by this time in the early evening after your last course in Transfiguration you would already be in Draco's prefect dorm room, cuddling on his bed and just talking about your day. Because of the new established rules, you have to sneak into his room, trying to not get caught, but so far it has not been a very big problem. Even if someone of the other Slytherin's catches you, they will be far too scared of Draco to report it. But unfortunately everything took a different turn today.

During your Transfiguration lesson you had to admit that you forgot to do your homework, something that doesn't happen often but the current situation in Hogwarts burdens everyone, even the teachers, and on top of that you also came too late. Not that McGonagall was mad at you or anything, you are one of her best students after all, and a simple warning that it should not happen again was enough punishment in her opinion. Unluckily for you, Vincent Crabbe, one of your boyfriend's goons, is also in your class. And he definetely takes his job as an inquisitor a little too serious.

When you wanted to get out of the classroom, he suddenly got in your way and blocked it, waiting for everyone else to leave. At first you thought he was just trying to be funny again, you have never had a problem with each other in the first place. But apparently Crabbe prefers to receive an award from Umbridge to your friendship and the fact that you are in the same house didn't stop him in deducting twenty house points from his own house because you broke two rules. You never expected him to have a big brain, but that he even dragged you into Umbridge's office afterwards just because you forgot your homework in a class she is not even a part of, was even too stupid for a Vincent Crabbe.

And only then did it get really bad.

A tear has now found its way down your cheek, but you hastily wipe it away and run to the sinks in the girls' bathroom. You quickly turn on the faucet and hold your reddened, throbbing hand under the ice-cold water, your lips escapes a painful gasp. You squeeze your eyes shut at the pain and let the water run down your skin, hoping to soothen your aching flesh. What Umbridge did to you can no longer be considered a punishment, it was more of a torture.

As soon as Crabbe rudely pushed you into her disgusting pink office, he immediately received his desired reward and left you alone with this monster of a woman. This disgusting woman greeted you with a fake cunning smile and asked you to sit on one of the chairs at her table, the cats trapped in the pictures on every inch of the wall meowing in your ear. First you resisted against her request but soon realized that discussions with her are of no use and sat down after all.

With that peculiar high tone of hers, she handed you a black quill and then asked you to write 'I must not be late' onto the parchment until you memorize it. She also told you that you won't need any ink. With an annoyed roll of your eyes you straightend up your position, put the tip of the quill onto the paper and started writing. Not even spelling out the sentence one time, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand with every further letter you wrote down. As you took a look at your hand you noticed the exact words you just wrote were engraved on your skin.

Shocked, you glanced at Umbridge, but she just stood their with a smile on her face, shaking her head and shrugging. You figured out that the ink was made from your own blood and also that every word would only hurt more. And that is exactly what it did. She must have let you write that one single sentence down over fifthy times before she was sure you had learned your lesson.

You yourself didn't really care if you did, all you wanted to do was to get out of that hell as soon as possible. And now you are here, standing in absolute pain in front of an already broken mirror in a cold bathroom.

You have to blink a few times while looking up at the ceiling to hold back your tears and then you look at your injured hand again. You pull it out from under the running water for a moment, only to see that you are still able to perfectly read the words. The cold water did not really ease the pain, it almost feels like it has gotten worse. You lightly touch the reddend, blood smeared skin around the actual wound with your fingertip and just at the slightest touch you flinch and pull your hand back.

You don't know how long you stood there and held your hand under the water as suddenly a thought pops up in your mind: Draco. If he finds out about what happened, he will be furious. Also, he is probably already waiting for you for two hours, not that it is unusual for you to be late to your daily meetings with your boyfriend, you always get caught up by some work for school, but you never needed this long before. Is he already looking for you?

Without waisting another thought, you close the tap again, dry your hand very gently and then go out of the girls' bathroom, always careful not to run into the next squad member's arms and get sent back to the devil itself. Fortunately, you manage to find your way to the common room without getting caught, only once imagining that you heard Mrs. Norris. After you have said the password successfully, you enter the, luckily, empty room.

You quickly make your way to Draco's prefect dorm room, pulling the sleeve of your cloak - or as you have just noticed because of the large size, Draco's cloak - over your wounded hand so that it remains hidden. All you want is to be hugged now and comforted by him and not that he gets upset and angry and probably storm to Umbridge's office right away. Softly, you knock on the door and take in a deep breath, before it is opened vigorously.

Immediately you are pulled into the room, the door behind you is closed, even locked, and you get pressed against it with your back. In front of you is none other than your incredibly handsome boyfriend whose eyes seek eye contact with you in an instant. "Where were you?", Draco asks in a calm voice, gently stroking his fingertips over your cheeks to your chin, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"I-I was held in Transfiguration. I had to catch up on some tasks and I forgot the time. I'm sorry, Draco", you lie into his face, really not wanting to tell him anything about what happend. "You made me wait a long time for you today, are you aware of that, darling?", he reminds you with a cheeky grin, his face slowly coming closer to yours. You know exactly what that look, that expression in his suddenly darker eyes means. He moves the hand that is not under your chin over your side and lets it stay on your hip. "But that is no problem, love. We still have enough time.."

With these words he then connects your lips into a hungry kiss, pressing you more against the door to his room. His hand on your hip squeezes you harder and he runs his other hand down to your neck. His firm grip makes you gasp, only earning a deep chuckle from the platinum haired boy.

For this brief moment in which he caught you off guard by slamming his lips onto yours, you had forgotten everything around you, but it did not last long and suddenly all the experiences come back into your head. Not wanting to continue this, you put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away from you but you only manage to break the kiss, which does not please him at all.

"I'm really not in the mood today, Draco", you explain, hoping that he will understand, like he usually does. "You will be, just wait and see", he winks playfully, absolutely not noticing the seriousness in your voice. Before you can say anything you only see the corners of his mouth curl up and next thing you know is he's attacking your neck, sucking and nibbling at that specific spot behind your ear.

Because of the actually pleasing feeling, you put more pressure on Draco's upper arms, which you are now unintentionally holding onto. "D-Draco", you softly whimper as he takes off your green tie and starts unbuttoning your white blouse, his rough kisses slowly wandering to your collarbone. "Please, Draco, stop", you manage to bring out, clearer than previously, but he ignores your request and just continues with what he is doing.

"We both know that you don't want me to stop", Draco whispers in your ear and connects your lips again, this time even rougher, not giving you the opportunity to say anything. It takes you a few seconds until you, in fact, try to relax under his touch and let yourself go, tilting your head to one side so he has even more access to the sensitive skin on your neck, which is already bluish.

But you just can't. You can't force yourself to do this after the horrifying encounter with Umbridge.

With a strong, forceful push you manage to shove Draco away from you ungently, a shocked and kind of annoyed expression plastered upon his face. "I said stop, Draco!", you practically scream at him, his forehead furrowed as the tears well back into your eyes. You want to pass him and go to his bed, but he quickly grabs your wrist and stops you. Immediately you harshly swat your hand away.

"Let me go and just leave me alone! You are always so insensitive!", you yell at him again, the emotions taking over your actions, but this time the tears find their way down your cheeks and only now Draco notices your change of appearance, how puffy your cheeks are and how your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, as if you had already cried before coming to his room.

Crying, you lie down on his bed, facing the wall so that your back is facing him. Draco frowns for a moment when he sees your devastated figure trembling from your heavy sobs. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your crying, but that only makes it worse. You can feel the mattress sink down beneath you as Draco lies down beside you, not touching you in the slightest.

A few minutes pass in which noone speaks, only your crying can be heard throughout the silence of the room. Your desperate attempts to calm yourself down and wipe away your recurring tears fails dramatically. Draco, on the other hand, lies next to you motionless, his head propped up on his elbow. If there is one thing in this entire traumatic enough world that he hates the most, it definetely is seeing you, the love of his life, his soulmate, cry. He would love to punch himself for not noticing how bad you are feeling sooner. Feelings of guilt start to plague him and he doesn't know what to do, if you even want to be touched by him anymore, especially in this fragile state.

Nevertheless, Draco finally decides to approach you slowly by stroking your hair gently and carefully to not scare you. He just wants to show you that he is here for you, that he is by your side, even if you may not feel like talking right now. When he notices that you are not resisting his touch, he runs his fingertips over your arm, trying to comfort you somehow without it being too much. And when you don't fight against that either, Draco suddenly wraps his arms around your still shaking body from behind and presses you tightly against him.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart", he softly whispers into your ear, lifting his head so he gets a glimpse of your face from the side. "Please stop..", he almost begs and feels tears pricking in his own eyes now as well. He has seen you cry a few times already, but never this much. It breaks his heart. "I'm here for you, angel."

In his strong and protective arms, tightly secured around your waist, you finally manage to calm down at least a little bit and turn around to face him. You don't dare to look at him with your probably disfigured face from all the crying, but Draco has other plans. He puts a hand on your cheek, guiding your face up to make you look at him. In your shiny, pain-ridden eyes, he is trying to find an answer to your condition, not wanting to pressure you to tell him if you don't want to.

"D-Draco", you stutter out between your sobs. "Shh..", he hushs you softly, his left hand stroking up and down your side in order to comfort you. "Take it easy, okay? Breathe in deeply. Whatever happened, I'm here for you. I protect you. Always."

Knowingly, you nod and wipe away some tears again, Draco helping you with his thumb. When you let your hand drop again, he catches your hand in his gently and wants to intertwine your fingers as his gaze falls on the still reddened wound on the back of your hand. His eyes widen as he sees the wound consisting of words painfully engraved into your skin. His mouth opens in pure shock. "What is that? Who did this to you, Y/N?!"

With a sad gasp you quickly pull your hand away, the expression on his face immediately falling since you are avoiding his touch and don't trust him with this. Only at seeing your scared face Draco notices that his last words became a bit louder and he is quick to pull you into a comforting hug again. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you", he apologizes and places a kiss on your hair. "You know that you can tell me everything, Y/N. But if you don't want to, then at least show me your injury again please."

Silently, you escape his grip and lift your hand for him to see. He carefully examines the back of your hand, looking into your eyes here and then to see if his touch hurts. "U-Umbridge", you sob while he is still busy viewing your wound. At your words he raises an eyebrow in surprise.

"I-I was late for class and forgot my homework and then.. and then Crabbe sent me to her office. She.. She did-", you try to explain, but just can't find the right words. Draco caresses your cheek gently, apparently understanding what happened.

"I will kill her", Draco grinds his teeth, obviously fighting himself to hold back the anger that is currently raising inside of him like a burning flame. This woman dared to lay a hand on you and put you in such a state. And Crabbe won't get away with this either. Because of the tremendous anger, Draco is already getting up from the soft mattress, ready to fight.

"Please s-stay with me, Draco", you entreat him, not wanting to loose the warmth of his body next to you that manages to calm you down. At your words, his tense body relaxes and the boiling fire inside of him diminishes, but only slightly. Just because of you he's not already on his way to her office and give her hell.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you had to go through this alone and I'm sorry for my behavior earlier", Draco starts to ramble, feeling guilty for not being able to protect you.

"You couldn't know. I-I really don't want to talk about it anymore.. Can you please just hold me, Draco?", you sob and he does what you asked him to do right away. His arms pull you closer to him and the delicate, fragrant scent that emenates from him calms you down, lowering your cries.

"I will never let you go", Draco whispers quietly, reassuring you that he will defintely never let you get hurt again. Not on his watch even if that means that he has to stick to you every second from now on, then so it will be.

[makeste]

A theory I have seen is that Fuyumi wants the family back so desperately, because she and Toya experienced the better Endeavor, where everything was alright. My guess is that after his decent into abuse its stopped being like a normal family and Natsuo and Shoto never experienced a normal family. But that is just a therory

okay so speaking as someone who grew up with an abusive and neglectful parent (though in my case it was my mom rather than my dad)... it’s complicated. there are a lot of emotions there. I think one of the things Horikoshi has really excelled at with the whole Todoroki plot is the way that he’s used the four siblings to show the different ways that children respond to parental abuse. and I can say from personal experience that all of them are valid. not just the bitterness, anger, and resentment that Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto have all shown at times, but also that intense (but tentative, almost wishful-thinking) longing to just have a normal family that we see from Fuyumi. speaking again from experience, that last one isn’t an outlier at all. in fact, in my case, I’d say that was honestly the strongest feeling out of all of them, and it even fueled a lot of the other three emotions. btw just a heads up I’m gonna delve into some personal stuff here briefly, so yeah. I won’t put details, but if anyone wants an abuse trigger warning added to the post or anything like that, just let me know.

so the thing is, even during my angriest times, if some magic wish-granting genie had poofed in and told the child me, “’sup, I’m here to solve all of your family problems, just tell me what you want me to do,” I wouldn’t have wanted them to take my mom away and lock her up somewhere and make her suffer or anything like that. honestly, even during the worst of it, the thing I wanted more than anything else was just to have a normal family. my mom had a lot of untreated mental health issues, and it was basically a situation where you never knew which version of her you were going to get on any given day. so there were times when she was a kind and loving mother who took care of me and my siblings. and there were a great many more times when she was temperamental and erratic, and we all (my dad included) basically just walked on eggshells around her and did our best to lay low and try not to bother her because even little things might set her off, and we never knew how she was going to react. and my dad worked a lot, and my sibs and I were homeschooled for reasons which I’m not gonna get into because this post is already veering off on too many tangents, but anyway so the short of it is that my sibs and I grew up in this unstable environment and ended up more or less raising ourselves. and I resented my mom a lot for that, growing up, and I still do honestly.

now a lot’s happened since then, and she’s gotten some help, and my siblings and I are all adults now and we’re more or less good, even though we all took a certain amount of Psychic Damage along the way and we’re each still dealing with that. and we each have different relationships with our mom now, and a couple of my sibs are even fairly close to her. but for my part, I pretty much have no relationship with her at all outside of seeing her a few times a year at family get-togethers and the like. the thing is, even though my mom did eventually (after a LOT of false starts and struggles and heartache) get some help, she’s never really shown remorse for what my siblings and I went through because of her. she’s never taken responsibility for any of it. she blames a lot of other people, and will go on long rants about all of the terrible things that have happened to her and all of the horrible ways people have treated her (some of which is true, and some of which very much is not). but there’s never even the slightest acknowledgement of any of the things she herself has done to hurt others. she either passes the blame or just pretends it never happened. 

and honestly, it sucks. even now, there’s little to no real desire to change on her part. she’s gotten therapy and meds now, and so emotionally she’s much more stable than when we were kids, but one of the unfortunate results is that it’s all the more clear now that a lot of her behavior never had anything to do with her mental illness at all. she just didn’t care at all about how she was hurting others; or at the very least, didn’t care to face it. and that’s just how it is.

anyway, so I’m sorry to keep breaking away and telling you guys my own life story lol. but the point I’m trying to get at here is that I actually relate to Fuyumi so much, though. what I wanted more than anything was for my mom to care, and to say she was sorry, and for me to be able to believe that and to trust her, and for her to actually change. that was it.

and so for me, here’s the biggest difference between the Endeavor situation, and my own and so many others. the difference is that unlike people in real life, we know Endeavor is actually remorseful for what he’s done. we know it for certain because we’ve seen it for ourselves, from his own point of view. the manga actually lets us get inside his head and shows us that he really is sincere, that he really is sorry, and that he really is trying to change. and that’s something that’s impossible to get in real life. that certainty that the person really means it, that they’re genuinely remorseful and committed to making amends.

and for me, that’s fucking wish fulfillment right there. for the abusive parent to finally realize the error of their ways and be sorry and try to do right by their kids. I fucking wanted that. hell, I still want it, even though I’ve made my peace with things the way that they are. that chance to somehow heal the broken relationship, and have your parent genuinely try their best to be a real parent to you, even if it’s years after the fact? shit. I’d take that in a heartbeat.

and so when it comes to Fuyumi and her attempts to get her family to reconcile and experience a few normal things, I f feel that. I really do. because when you’re growing up in that type of situation, normal is all that you want. and I don’t think it’s anything that requires an explanation on her part, because it’s not actually an unusual reaction at all. it’s natural. it’s the most natural thing in the world. honestly it’s annoying that fandom sometimes tries to shame her for having those feelings. like honestly, fuck that. because the thing is, I’d wager that almost every kid who grew up with an abusive parent has at some time or other felt the exact same way.

and that includes Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto as well. literally the only difference between them and Fuyumi is that they feel that Endeavor’s change of heart is simply coming too late. it’s not that they don’t want their family back, just like she does; it’s that from their point of view, it’s something they can’t get back. for Fuyumi, that dream of having a normal family is something she’s still seeking. for Natsuo and Touya, that dream of having a normal family is something that was destroyed. something that Endeavor killed. something they’re in mourning of. and so Touya wants revenge for it, and Natsuo is trying to pick himself up and move past it. and meanwhile Shouto is caught somewhere in the middle of all of those reactions, because he’s still trying to decide whether or not he can ever bring himself to trust his father again. he’s somewhere in between his brothers’ mourning and his sister’s hopefulness. sort of a Schrodinger type of deal lol.

but anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that all four siblings are really experiencing the same thing, just in different ways. Fuyu may be the one arranging family dinners and the like, but that same longing to be part of a normal family is at the core of Natsuo, Shouto, and even Touya’s behavior as well. Natsuo’s hurt and resentment, and Touya’s spite and bitterness, come from being denied the thing they want. and Fuyu’s shaky attempts at reconciliation come from her desire to still obtain it somehow. but at the end of the day they’re the exact same feelings. and they all come from the same place.

anyways, hopefully that makes some kind of sense. basically, everyone is valid. Fuyu is valid, Natsu and Shouto are valid, and Touya is murdery which isn’t cool, but his feelings are still valid too nonetheless. hugs and therapy for the Todoroki children in 2021, Horikoshi. please and thank you.

[alovesongshewrote]

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours.  Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads?  (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings:  A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn.  Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N:   if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one.  I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags:   @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real.  It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence.  That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row.  Was it healthy?  Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers.  Answers to what?  Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour.  You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment.  But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast.  By noon, you were ready to collapse.  The three cups of coffee did not help.  Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass.  As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret.  You also love him, and that’s a secret too.  Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity.  Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love.  Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already.  The other half keeps trying to get you together.  It is not working very well.  But that’s all a digression.  What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience.  You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance.  You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass.  You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand.  That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah.  Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out.  The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train.  You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute.  Or at least it felt like a solid minute.  Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)?  You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that?  Like… really cute.  Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling.  Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special.  Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why.  He wasn’t really planning on anything.  Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second.  You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird.  Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up?   Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,”  Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up?  It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet.  That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state.  It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah.   C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,”  you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.  

It was a nice place.  Very cozy, very him.  It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment.  Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it.  Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there.  What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it.  Once again, the boy was a blushing mess.  If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute.  Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter.  While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub.  For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there.  Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian?  That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot.  Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard.  He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess.  Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself.  You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him.  He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true.  At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set.  His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping.  Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you.  He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad.  He was just worried for your health.  Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived.  He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done.  Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you.  It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected.  You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what?  No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over.  You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you.  You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep.  Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him.  Was that your plan?  Maybe.  Was it part of a second, bigger plan?  Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent.  There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do.  Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours.  For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control.  Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction.  You were right, he thought.  He couldn't use magic on you.  As far as he knew, you were a human.  Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly.  If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you.  He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?”  Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting.  Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted.  Just quiet.  You had to face facts.  Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop.  For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please.  I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself.  I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to.  Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute.  It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said.  You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much.  You hadn't.  Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room.  You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay?  I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love.  Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear.  The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah.  I meant what I said earlier, by the way.  You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans.  He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest.  He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me.  You are.  Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders.  Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty.  And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less.  You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again.  It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep.  It was nice, comforting.  You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather.  It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep.  He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face.  He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you.  You looked so peaceful.  Good.  You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did.  After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?”  his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.”  And for once, you were.

[anntoldst0ries]

shinrin-yoku (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.7k, PG Summary: When life's difficulties hit, Noelle navigates her way through them by turning to the nature. Category: Hurt & Comfort Warnings: mentions of trauma

A/N: May is a Mental Health Awareness month and here in the UK the theme is nature. My MC, just like me, runs to the woods when things get tough. It helps her clear her head and reconnect with inner strength.

I struggle with mental health myself and it’s important for me to speak up and address the subject. There is nothing worse than shaming or discrediting someone’s difficult feelings. It’s fine not to be fine.

If you struggle alone, please don’t. My inbox will welcome you with open arms. Two heads are better than one, even if we just complain, at least we can complain together 💜

For @choicesmaychallenge2021 Day 13 - Mental Health

SHINRIN-YOKU - A Japanese term for ‘forest bathing’ or the sense of well-being you experience while in nature.

~~

It all starts with a seed. This tiny element which, without aid, is sentenced to certain death. But give it the right soil. Give it water, sun. And it can grow. Into something big. Powerful. Scary.

~~

She is five years old.

They live in a townhouse, a classy Victorian era building. Undistinguished, one of many merging into the background of a typical London street. The colors are also very standard,  dirty white married to ivory beige, bar for the deep green door - their rebel child.

For the random passerby, it’s nothing special. But for her, the walls of a storey house encapsulate the whole world.

The garden behind the house is neat and clean, visibly well taken care of. She doesn’t remember exact details anymore, but she remembers begging her parents to go camping in the garden with her brother. The ticklish feeling of long and slim blades of grass on her tiny feet. Looking at the stars with pure awe and delight, that only the unspoiled mind of a child is capable of.

The plot of land that the house has been built on borders a beautiful forest. A wooden fence separates the two.

To her, it’s a passage to a magical world.

A world without any particular order, living its own life, unconstricted by rules. Not in the slightest does it resemble the garden on her side of the fence, where things grow according to the rules laid out by the adults.

There is a feeling inside her that she’s too young to name, to throw it in lingual context. It’s not until years later that she realized what it had been. Freedom. To grow however you please. To be what you want to be.

Robust, effuse trees tower over her, making her feel so small. As if she hasn’t already been feeling small enough, living in a world full of giants.

But they mean something else too. They bring a secret and a promise. Promise of a bigger world out there, far from the confines of the place she calls home.

The forest draws her, singing a melody that only her heart can understand. One day, she will be a part of it.

~~

She lives the teenage dream life.

That’s what everyone says.

She doesn’t have any real problems. She’s lucky not having to worry about money. She’s got friends. Her family is great. She just needs to stop whining. Her life is perfect.

Their words, not hers.

None of them know what happens behind closed doors.

The childhood forest is a cloudy memory. Her home is now thousands of miles away, in a city with a giant red bridge, which for some bizarre reason has ‘golden’ in its name.

But the call from nature doesn’t care about distance. It can find you about anywhere. It’s different and yet the same.

Because nature beats in one rhythm and speaks in the same language, everywhere.

The morning is chilly and humid. She’s wearing a wooly coat, carelessly threw on a pair of PJs hiding underneath.

Her steps are brisk, breathing short and heartbeat elevated. Something’s bothering her blanched face.

The voice, again.

When it first appeared, she thought it had her best interest at heart. Used to give her advice and like a good friend, ream her out when she did something bad.

Over time, things took a turn for the worse.

Snarky comments. Casually mentioned wrongdoings. Feedback on what she could have done better, differently.

Noelle hoped the voice would go away on its own.

It hasn’t.

Not only did the voice not go away, but it was actually growing stronger with each passing day. Became more vocal. Judgmental. Openly hostile.

It fed on her fears.

It’s your fault - it told her - that your parents are getting divorced.

You are not good enough.

Even a lie, repeated enough times, will finally become the truth. And so it did for her, to the point where she couldn’t distinguish her own voice from the voice of the tormentor. Sounds faded into one.

Whoever said words can cut like a knife was right. But those who knew thoughts could leave scars that are much deeper, were truly wise.

The young, beautiful girl who never hurt a soul, became a hostage. A prisoner locked in the jail of her own head.

A giant tear rolled down her face. Made of all the words her heart couldn’t say.

She hugged the tree tightly and inhaled the woodsy aroma, the scent filling her lungs fully.

It’s sensuous.

Just like that, she is small again.

~

She’s got all that she ever wanted.

Degree from one of the best medical schools. Graduating with honors and glowing recommendations from even the strictest professors, who kept assuring her that her future in medicine is so bright it’s actually blinding. Then, a dreamy residency in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country.

Pretty impressive, right? Even a fool could see that. But the only fool whose opinion she cared about, couldn’t. All these things were clearly not good enough for Ethan Ramsey to stay.

She wasn’t good enough for him to stay.

Not longer than a year ago he was just a concept, an ideal without a face, body and voice. To her, he was a celebrity, a hero, someone whom mortals don’t have access to.

It was preposterous to consider for even a second Dr Ramsey could actually see something in an intern.

Standing among the moss-covered trees, every fiber of her being was filled with the thought of him.

Did the Amazonian forest remind him of her, just like every forest around reminded her of him?

Just when she won the battle for her career, she lost another. Because life had to be a zero-sum game.

As painful as that would have been, she wished she had something to hold onto. A scene she could replay in her mind. An image of him walking away. Or saying goodbye.

But he left without a word.

That was the pattern. That was history repeating itself.

She took her shoes off and stepped on the soil frosted with morning dew. It’s cold and wet. It’s refreshing. She is grounding. Reconnecting with Earth.

Tunes in with the rivers of grass, towers of trees, fences of bushes.

If the trees could speak, they’d tell stories not many people would believe in.

Tales of heartbreaks. Parables of spirits.

They are all nature’s poems.

Hauntingly beautiful. Riveting. Written without a single word.

Because nature speaks its very own language that only the soul, not the mind, can understand.

Pain is ripping her apart. But it reminds her that she’s alive. And this, in itself, is a miracle.

~~

She doesn’t know who she is anymore.

Some people call her a survivor. But it doesn’t feel like the right word. So many things in her died. So much was lost.

The attack took a lot from her. Danny. Bobby. Sense of security. Identity. Direction.

Right and wrong, good and bad, righteous and vicious. These are all just words. Someone needs to come and teach her the meaning of them anew. Draw lines, mark out frontiers. Save her from herself.

The ground is soaked. Torrential rain turned the soil into soft mud, warm and easily slipping through her fingers. She falls on her knees, praying for the ground to consume her.

Fill every part of her. Silence the internal cacophony. To sink into oblivion.

Not many people knew about the panic attacks and recurring nightmares. They’re always the same.

She’s standing in the middle of a swamp. Danny and Bobby are drowning, their arms reaching out for her. She knows she can only save one of them. She runs out of time trying to figure out how to save both. As a result, they both die. Time stands still and yet everything is spinning, moving, racing. The reality is a riot of overbright colours.

Suddenly, a ring breaks the silence. A polyphonic intruder. She looks at the screen through hooded eyes and notices the caller’s name. It’s him. He’s petrified. Worried to death. Asks her to stay where she is.

Some time later, maybe 10 minutes, maybe an hour - who knows? - he emerges from the gathering of stocky oaks.

The moment he catches the sight of her, he starts running. She notices a lab coat underneath the jacket. He’s soaking wet.

Even though he is so close, he doesn’t slow down. Crashing into her, he scoops her in his arms. Catches her in the tightest of embraces.

Asks her if she’s fine. No. Not that question again. She’s tired of people fussing over her and gets angry.

Had it not been for the attack, would he even be here? The voice asks mockingly. It doesn’t matter to her. He’s there now.

Deep baritone is gentle and full of concern. It’s not like that. It’s not his intention to fuss. He’s simply worried. Because she is the most important thing to him in the whole world. Yes, he wasted so much time. That’s why he refuses to lose even one more second.

A dam breaks within her. Eliciting a quiet sob. She clutches his shirt, holds onto him for dear life. Moments later, she’s screaming at the top of her lungs. Singing her poignant birdsong.

How is she supposed to cope? Will things ever go back to normal? What is normal anyway?

In the confines of the infamous patient room she never felt more scared in her life. But here, out in the open, she feels so safe. As if she’s had a silent agreement with nature, which vouched to protect her at all costs.

And this time, nature had an ally. Because Ethan will protect her, even if it’s the last thing he does. Holding onto each other, they stand in the nothingness.

It keeps them grounded. Connected to their roots. Turning over new leaves. Bending before they break. Growing.

They get lost. Mother Nature has a reward for those who do. They have a chance to find themselves. Over and over again.

~~~

If you made it this far - thank you & you're awesome 🥰

Tag list: @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @terrm9@starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @jamespotterthefirst @lisha1valecha @writer-ish @maurine07 @drakewalkerfantasy@iemcpbchoices @liaromancewriter @lem-20 @lucy-268 @oldminniemcg @queencarb @qrkowna @mercury84choices @lsvdw-blog @utterlyinevitable @stygianflood @udishaman @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @alina-yol-ramsey @stateofgracious @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @binny1985 @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @archxxronrookie @tinkertailorsoldierspy @schnitzelbutterfingers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @theinvisibledreamergirl @custaroonie @irisofpurple @chasingrobbie @ethandaddyramseyx @quixoticdreamer16 @coffeeheartaddict @takemyopenheart @aworldoffandoms @potionsprefect @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[serenasoutherlyns]

Not a Summer Crush Part Six

a/n: OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINISHED A CHAPTER! This will probably be the second or third to last one? Anyways, this is The Chapter where it happens so. Enjoy!! Any feedback is appreciated, it feels so good to have written something :).

Part Six

Serena quickly counted the number of drinks she’d had in her head. She felt more sober by far than you, Casey, or Alex seemed; everything was going according to plan. You were dancing with one of your friends from the studio, leaving Casey and Alex to dance together; Serena noticed-- looking towards you as much as one another. Serena had been dancing with one of your friends. At the next break the band took, Mariana followed the four of you back to your table, kissed Serena on the cheek and started pulling her away from you, with a look in her eyes that, you recognized from personal experience, meant she had every intention of taking her in the restroom. You winked at the two of them, expecting Serena to follow her lead, but she didn’t instead electing to give her hip a squeeze before whispering something in her ear and sitting down beside Casey while you slid in next to Alex again.

“You two are really getting the hang of this,” you said, your head resting in your hands, your elbows propped up on the table. You didn’t like to get too drunk when you went dancing, mainly because the diminished coordination bothered you, but you’d made an exception tonight, and you were feeling pleasantly buzzed, enough to push your flirting out of the territory of subtle. You leaned your head against Alex’s shoulder, smiling as she said something you weren’t quite listening to. You tended to “check out” when you were drunk, turning into a bit of a passive observer, letting the big picture of the space wash over you rather than noticing every little piece of conversation.

Serena held out her phone to snap a picture of the group, and as she did so, you tilted your head up the slightest bit to bring your lips to rest incredibly lightly on Alex’s cheek. Testing the waters again, you lifted your head up further and turned across the table to see Casey, not jealous but happy, the smile on her lips full of desire, her pupils wide. Alex was blushing, her gaze averted from your own. You no longer had any more doubt: this was going to happen. It was all a question of when

“Serena,” you said, “what do you think of Mariana?” It was a plot to get her to leave the three of you alone, and you were sure you weren’t being delicate enough for her not to notice. You didn’t much care.

“She’s beautiful, talented,” Serena said with a suggestive wink. “I’m sure you know that, though,” she said.

You choked on your drink, coughing. “You act like I’ve slept with everyone in here,” you said, hoping Serena would take you up on the door you were opening.

Nobody was better than her at picking up the hidden question underneath someone’s statements. “Almost,” she said, low and playful. Casey swatted Serena’s shoulder (to which Serena reacted with an indignant “ow!”) while Alex took another long sip of her drink.

Mariana walked back by your table, grabbing Serena’s hand before she could object too strongly to your reactions, and Serena followed, leaving the three of you alone.

“Mariana is--”

“A friend of mine,” you cut Casey off before she could insinuate that you were in any kind of relationship that didn’t boil down to head over heels for the two of you. “I think she’s about to eat Serena alive, though,” you continued. That got the three of you laughing, Casey letting her head fall back, her soft red waves grazing over the tops of her shoulders. Alex pressed herself closer to you. If you turned towards her right then, just the slightest bit, you’d be touching in all kinds of important places. You felt your skin heat at the thought. She was close enough that you could feel her chest rise and fall from her side, that the scent of her shampoo and tequila filled your senses and suddenly it was all too much: the sounds, music, chatter, clinking glasses, the smells, the warmth and humidity of the space not to mention the same look on Casey’s face and your mildly drunk state. Your head was spinning. You coughed, overwhelmed. “Excuse me,” you said as you rose and walked to the bathroom, hoping you hadn’t sounded upset.

At the table, Alex looked at Casey with panic. Casey’s eyes were similarly wide and scared. “Alex, what did you do?”

---

When you made it to the bathroom, you realized what you’d done. You blew it, you panicked in a moment you could’ve taken advantage of and now all of your chances were out the window. Fuck. You leaned over the sink, breathing heavily, swallowing what could become tears. These feelings were getting excessive. You’d spent all night close to one or both of them, elegantly spinning Casey’s athletic form across the floor, gently guiding Alex’s uncoordinated self through the movements, watching the two of them fit perfectly in each other’s arms; and it had felt perfect: holding, watching, spinning, then Alex had come in close and you’d freaked out. You started coughing again from breathing hard. You heard a noise behind you, the unlocking of one of the stalls. Great, you thought, someone else was there to witness your hysterics.

That someone else was Serena Southerlyn, who carefully walked up beside you in what was

not exactly a comforting gesture. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked huffing, having spent her patience by this point. Mariana walked out of the stall and out of the bathroom doors, rolling her eyes at your plight (which was fair enough, considering that you’d failed to text her back after you slept together not once but three times before).

“Thanks,” you said, pushing yourself back from the sink to face her. You debated whether to tell her the truth, but you’d realized, at this point, how many of your rules regarding romance Casey and Alex had broken for you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms in front of you. “We were talking,” you said, the nervousness still in your voice, “And Alex was so close and Casey was too, and I just, I freaked, Serena and I think I ruined it if there was an it to ruin and I don’t know what to do!” you said, all in one breath.

Serena took a breath, rubbing her eyes, then turned and begun to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” you said, “I just bore my soul to you, Southerlyn!”

“I’m going to fix this,” she said. “And you owe me one for driving Mariana away. Seriously, what did you do to her?” she asked. You started to answer, but she cut you off, “Don’t tell me.” She waved her hand at you and was gone, leaving you stunned.

---

Serena took a second to slow down the pace she was walking at so that when she arrived at the table, she wouldn’t have to slide to a halt. It wasn’t a pretty sight: Alex and Casey hadn’t moved at all, and they both looked very confused and anxious; Casey with her bottom lip between her teeth, Alex looking into her mostly empty glass like the ice cubes could tell her fortune. It was pathetic, in Serena’s opinion.

“What did you do, Alex?” Serena asked as she sat down.

Alex let out an unamused chuckle. “Why does everyone assume it’s my fault?” she replied, but gave up being defensive. “I don’t know. I thought things were going so well, but I must’ve misread her because…” she trailed off. Casey had a forlorn look in her eyes, one that Serena had seen before, years ago at a party when she and Alex had been trying to stay just friends. That night, Serena had asked her if she really was ready to let her go. Casey had looked at her with those same eyes and said, “no, I’m not,” taken a sip of her beer, “but I’m going to have to be, won’t I?” And that night, Serena pulled Alex aside and told her, and she remembered the exact words, “You can’t do this to her, Lex.” Alex had turned her eyes towards the ground, but hadn’t replied, and Serena had finished, “You can’t do this to yourself.” Those same looks and those same feelings, and Serena wasn’t going to let the two of them screw up this time either. The things she did for friendship!

“Well,” Serena said, “She’s in the bathroom hyperventilating because she thinks she ruined her chances with you. So I would advise that the two of you go fix that. Apologize or explain or whatever.” She didn’t give them time to argue. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go try to finish what I started,” she rose from the table. “You’re all grownups, talk to each other.”

They looked at one another for a moment, communicating without words, reading one another in the same way they’d learned to over the years of being in love. “So, I guess I’ll go talk to her?” Casey said, eliciting a sigh of relief from her wife. She always was better with uncertainty.

“That would be amazing of you, baby,” Alex said, squeezing Casey’s hand and leaning over the table to kiss her, before they both stood from the table at the same time, and walked away in opposite directions.

---

You hardly dared to move from where you were parked against the wall as you waited for something to happen. You weren’t exactly sure what Serena meant by “fixing” this, but it turned out that the outcome you’d most hoped for was the one you got. There was a hesitant initial push on the door, then one more insistent. Casey’d left you breathless multiple times tonight, her dress, her hair, the way her lipstick clung to the straw in her cocktail, but this, you thought, was going to win out as the most striking image of her you’d gotten: tall, confident, her dress clinging to her figure, and most importantly, blue-green eyes, taking you in.

“Hi,” you said, more quietly than you intended, questioning her.

“Hi,” she replied.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve rushed out of there like that, I,” you started to say, but Casey stopped you, shaking her head and moving closer. She took your hand and pushed a curl behind your ear.

“I don’t think any of us know exactly what we’re doing,” she said, laughing a little into the words, “But I know I want to do it. Alex, too,” she said.

You nodded, swallowing, her reassurance bringing back some of your confidence. “Yeah,” you said, choosing not to dwell on coming up with the right words. She was standing so close to you that there was barely any space to close; but you closed it anyway. You pulled her in, your arms wrapped around her waist like they had been many times that night. Your lips touched, finally kissing her, in a way that felt inevitable but still surprising. It was a light, innocent, careful kiss, pleasant that way. You felt so many ways that you couldn’t quite sort them out-- excited, terrified, gratified. But most of all you wanted more. You broke the kiss for just enough time to start to catch your breath, then pulled her somehow closer, kissing her with more insistence, and there was nothing innocent about this one. You parted your lips, deepening the kiss, ready to give her whatever she would take. You sighed when she pulled away, looking up at her with eyes that you were sure must be dark with desire.

“Would you want to come home with me?” She asked, with an endearing uncertainty that you marveled at, knowing how impossible it would’ve been for you to refuse after that kiss.

You nodded, biting your lip. “Of course,” you breathed out, “but Alex…”

“She left a few minutes ago, I told her we’d meet her there.”

“Sure of yourself there, Novak?” you teased, already heading for the bathroom door.

Casey wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you made your way towards the exit and a cab and the promise of even more closeness. “Maybe. But I was right, wasn’t I?”

Your reply was a smile and a bite of your lip.

---

You woke up to the smell of coffee and a borderline offensive amount of sunlight invading your foggy brain. You began to claw your way through the morning confusion, the suggestion of a hangover building in your temples. Three things were different about the scene. First, you always slept with your blinds closed. Second, someone else had made coffee. Third, when you stretched slightly forward you felt another body respond, pressing herself into you. You felt a rush of elation run from your forehead to your toes. While you were still sleepy, you couldn’t resist the urge to hug her tighter, thinking about last night, how you’d finally gotten what you’d been wanting for months. You thought about pinching yourself.

“Good morning,” Alex said, her voice raspy and full, you thought, of the same excited happiness you were feeling. You pushed yourself up on your side, reaching over to tuck Alex’s mussed hair behind her ear, then to kiss her temple. She hummed in appreciation, and as you pressed your lips to her neck, traced where your lips had been only a few hours ago, gentler, she breathed deeply, turning onto her back so you could kiss her properly. You did so, lazily shifting to sit with your legs tucked to the side. “Quite a wake-up call,” she said, giving you a satisfied smile.

“I’m not surprised Casey’s an early riser,” you said, in a teasing, loud whisper, “and I’m not surprised that you aren’t. I guess I’ll have to split the difference. I could stand to build better habits anyway.” Alex felt a flutter of excitement when you said that, implying this would happen enough to build a habit. You’d each shared a few hopes with one another last night, but part of her was going to be looking for reassurance for a little while yet.

Your phone rang, buzzing from your bag. Through some kind of miracle, it was Gillian’s turn to catch cases that day, so you thought it was probably spam and clicked it off without looking as you slid your feet off the side of the (very comfortable) bed to dangle above the floor. Alex made a noise of protest, placing a hand on your lower back. “Warm,” she said, when you laughed lightly.

“I’ll bring you coffee,” you said, your feet meeting the rug without a sound.

You were wearing a pair of Casey’s old terry shorts and one of Alex’s college shirts, that had a black line on the bottom where a bouncer had missed her hand. While that was all you’d heard of the story, you were now very eager to find out what kind of shows Alex Cabot had gone to in college. The shorts were fraying, especially one point on the right side (below the pocket) and you now had an image of Casey idly playing with the fabric while reading something dense so clear in your mind you may as well have seen it.

As you padded into the kitchen through the living room, you took notice of things you’d been too busy to see the night before: the extensive amount of poetry mixed in with the law books on the shelf, photos of Alex and Casey through the years, a few pieces of carefully chosen artwork. It was very put together and nothing like your place, but it felt right for the two of them. You had an idea, then, when you remembered the abundance of knickknacks that made their way into your tiny bag. You pulled out the first one your fingers found: a tiny duck carved out of rose quartz you’d picked up from a vendor and never found a place for in your apartment or office. Yes, it was silly and it stuck out, but despite all that, as you placed it on the large bookshelf, it fit.

“What’s his name?” Casey said, leaning in the door frame.

“How long have you been there,” you said, turning around and walking to meet her. “And good morning, I promised Alex coffee, so there better be some left.” Casey reached behind herself and handed you two mugs. “And his name is Apollo.”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. You then headed back to the bedroom, Casey walking behind you.

---

Your phone rang again almost immediately after the three of you got cozy in bed again. You didn’t usually get two spam calls in the same morning, so you motioned for Casey to hand your phone to you (as it was on her end table) and, seeing it was Ashley, you answered it, remembering that he was back from his trip that day and probably wondered why you weren’t there for breakfast. Casey and Alex could overhear the conversation, sharing charmed looks over the top of your head.

“Hey, are you alive?”

“I am alive, yes,” you replied, laughing.

“Ooooh, I know that tone!” he said excitedly. “Are you at their place?”

“I am, in fact,” you said, leaning into the hand Casey had placed on your thigh.

“Oh OK, details later,” he said, and when Alex gave you an over-the-glasses look you shrugged. “I’ll tell the girl that the mock trial rehash can wait,” he said.

You heard Ophélie begin to argue with him in the background of the call, and since you knew that meant she would want a complete explanation later (and because you really did want to know how her case went), you replied, “No, no, put her on, it’s OK.”

“Hmm,” he said, “It’s your ear.”

He wasn’t kidding. Your niece took the phone and shrieked into the microphone. You pulled it away from your head until she started saying words. Alex laughed as she blew on her hot coffee, making ripples. “I won!” she exclaimed, talking fast in the particular cadence of a preteen girl. “First, I presented a motion to exclude the evidence that Izzy, sorry, my client, was in the car because I found something in the packet that showed that it wasn’t admit-able,

“Admissible,”

“Admissible, and then I--”

“OK,” you said, “I am so proud of you, kiddo, but can we save the motion by motion for dinner?” mentioning the dinner you’d promised her for victory was enough to get her on a different track, half talking to you and half to her parents and sisters. “Alright bug, I’m hanging up now,” you said. “Bye!” you insisted when she didn’t respond.

“Bye!” came her distracted reply. You turned the phone off and set it aside, seeing the grins on both of the women beside you’s faces.

“What?” you said, your voice going up at the end of the word.

“I can see your influence,” Alex said.

“She’s going to start pulling case law on me in a few years, isn’t she?” you said.

“She can read our books,” Casey said. The way she offered something like that, comfortably, to your family, not scared off by them, struck something deep in you, that wasn’t infatuation or friendship, but the start of something else. “That is, if you’re comfortable with it, and not that you don’t have any,” she said, a hint of worry in her voice.

“That seems dangerous for my sanity, but she’d love that,” you said, assuaging any fear. Satisfied, Casey smiled and sipped her coffee. Another phone buzz came, this time from Alex’s side of the bed.

“It’s from Serena,” she said, reading the text aloud. “‘Congrats!!!!’ with four exclamation points, which feels like overkill.”

“I don’t know,” you said, “It feels appropriate to me.” Alex nodded, conceding, as you drank your coffee, looking at her over your mug.

---

On Monday, there was a café miel on your desk again. There was a note beside it, largely the same as all the other ones, except, it ended with a smudge of lipstick that you’d recognize anywhere. You tucked it into the box where you kept all the notes and you sat down at your desk. You felt like you’d never had a sweeter drink in your life.

---

taglist: @addictedtodinosaurs, @nocreditinthestraightworld, @cmmndrwidw, @hi-i-1, @lesbianologist, @alexlivdoncas, @laezzzi

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

I’m baaaaack bitches 😘 let’s be honest the last two episodes were shit & you wouldn’t have wanted that wwr anyways. SO let’s get into the ✨angst✨ that was Nick’s episode under the cut…

Oh but before I start, why yes, yes I called this theory too. Me and this writer share a goddamn brain or something because I’ve literally always guessed big plot points of his episodes correctly 😅

Ok Nick’s dad leaving like that, with poor bby Nick all sweet asking if he promises to bring him back his favorite pastry and him hesitating before he’s going to promise- NO. 

*picture Michael Scott gif here*

It’s not faaaaaair, little Nick deserved so much better- so MUCH better. And it’s only going to get worse as the episode goes on, so strap in for the walk down emo lane. 

Quick pit stop for cute banter because duh. Nick giving the real estate agent Ellie’s number cracks me up because bro you want this house with her don’t you 👀 you still keep her business cards on you when you could have just as easily gotten your own (or McGee’s) by this point 👀 you just want to maaaaarry her and move iiiiiiin with her I knooooooow it 👀 Ellie’s reaction the split second we see also has me dying because she’s like ha ha this is funny you had to talk to real estate agent you drew the short straw hey wait what the fu— you did not! Before McGee interrupts any protest she can hurl back Nick’s way and that’s just gold right there. Pure middle school flirting as per usual for them and I love it.

Oooooooh Kasie’s lab scene. The growth in this one. Nick worried his family and by extension him, is going to get implicated for murder (or is guilty) even though it sounds outrageous to him, he’s got PTSD from Mona Lisa (and who wouldn’t tbh). But Ellie immediately, like IMMEDIATELY goes and defends him. Is like uh-uh don’t even GO there, it’s not a possibility its just person of interest I don’t care if it’s literal hair at the scene of a man stabbed brutally seven times, he’s not a murderer. The grooooooowth Ellie, I’m so proud of you 🥺 we went from using that logical head to realizing it’s ok to listen to your heart and wade into situations with empathy (especially for the boy you ~*looOOoOoOve*~) And then Nick talking about his dad being dead and a deadbeat and walking out when he was 5, he looks at Ellie almost the entire time, only barely glancing over at McGee like he needs to have that connection with her, she grounds him when this is suddenly very jarring having a relative by semi-involved in a murder. And Ellie isn’t the slightest bit shocked when Nick dumps this news so clearly she’s heard it and by her look, not only has she heard this, but she does not like the man for what he did to Nick. She looks pissed his father hurt Nick like that because how dare any one hurt her man 😤

And oh here it is, we back on emo lane. Nick recognizing and seeing his dad for the first time in 30 years. It’s gonna hit like a 🎵freeeeeight traaaain🎵 at first he can’t even believe its him, he blinks like a thousand times because *surely* his eyes are deceiving him and then his dad goes and uses his nickname, his nickname people the CRUELTY. YOU DON’T GET TO JUST SHOW UP THIRTY YEARS LATER AND CALL HIM BY HIS CUTE LITTLE NICKNAME YOU GAVE HIM AS A CHILD. YOU DON’T MIGUEL. NOT IN THIS GD HOUSE. Ok and now nick is in pure shock because he just got confirmation that his dad is not only *not* dead, but he’s here in front of him, in DC no less, possibly a murderer no less. AND he’s finding this out by chasing him down *not* by Miguel reaching out to him while in DC. The shock and confusion and hurt my poor baby.

And when that shock wears off and it’s just barely contained rage, my heart 🥺 so of course Ellie goes in there with him and nows she needs to immediately be the support she knows he needs but he won’t admit to needing. Nick tries to deflect with a joke at first but oh honey it’s no use. But quick comedic relief for us on emo lane “sit down, no I don’t like sitting” AHAHAHA like father like son I’m cackling because the look Ellie and nick share and nick’s eyes warn her like don’t you dare fucking say it and she’s like yep yep nope I wasn’t gonna say a damn thing I’ll just look down and try to contain my laughter because now is NOT the time. But see I’m on my couch and I can laugh all I damn well please at this scenario that was gold from the writers thank you. On a more serious level this probably hurt nick even more seeing that he’s even got the smallest something similar to his dad. He’s probably desperate to be the exact opposite, he doesn’t want to even consider being capable of what his father was capable so this - while seemingly insignificant - thing like not wanting to sit in a chair will hit deep for him without him realizing it. If something so trivial is the exact same, wouldn’t something much much heavier like commitment to relationships and family be the exact same? Wouldn’t it?? And good god poor nick for going through that mental anguish, on emo rollercoaster lane. Because it just gets better when Miguel’s excuse for being in DC is “visiting family” like call your BULLSHIT Miguel you certainly ain’t visiting family and Nick now knows oh he lies too, great, another win for the Torres blood, fan-fucking-tastic. 

Quick peek at viewing room and we don’t believe in personal space, Ellie wants to be as close as possible to her hurting bby 🥺

But back to the emo stuff - Miguel just lying off his ass and Nick fed up with his father’s games because it’s truly just twisting that knife in his back that’s been stuck there for 30 years deeper and deeper. AND THEN Miguel has the audacity to yell out for “Nico” like bitch you do NOT get to call him that either. You walked out on him and never came back gtfo. And Ellie is trying so hard to keep it together but man she wants to do one of two things if not both at the same time - wrap Nick up in her arms and shield him from this deadbeat and/or punch this man through the glass to cause just a fraction of the hurt he caused Nick. But instead she just has to keep her cool to be the supportive girlfriend she is and ask nick what he thinks and then. Then. “He’s lying…because his lips are moving”

Well FUCK. Murder me right now. The anguuuuuuuish. Poor five year old Nick in a 35 year old Nick’s body. That little boy who was promised a big hojaldre in the morning from the next town over is right there. Right there to witness the father he thought he had, hasn’t changed. One of the only memories Nick probably has of his father is him leaving. Him lying and leaving. And what does he do when he finally shows up again? 

HE LIES AND LEAVES. HE FUCKING LIES AND LEAVES. (I know I’m getting ahead and technically at this point we don’t know he’ll leave again but whatever sue me because this shit is too much.)

Side note: Ellie talking about a “conflict of interest” that Nick didn’t interrogate his father is laughable considering she should have never interrogated Xavier but ok. 

Ooooo lets see some pissed off Nick. Let it loose baby, you deserve this. And I know I wrote about this in the tags somewhere but can we take a second to appreciate McGee’s growth??? Like bro went from straight up denial to acceptance and giving Ellie the look of “go talk to your boyfriend ok we need to make sure he’s alright and we both know your support is going to go a lot further than my support” and Ellie wordlessly kNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE’S SAYING. She’s like yeah, of course I’ll go help my man why wouldn’t I. 

I don’t know why but Ellie asking Nick if he’s talked to his “mom and sister” is just so 🥰 I can’t explain this one to you but I love this dialogue ok. Actually I love this whole ensuing conversation. Nick still is bitter (he has every gd right to be), Ellie playing the supportive girlfriend but *tiiiiiniest* bit of devil’s advocate with saying he might be innocent. Once again, so much growth because honestly she knows what it’ll do to Nick if his dad actually *is* a murderer. Like can we for a second imagine if his dad actually was guilty, right? Nick already saw he was like his dad in trivial things like not wanting to sit in chairs. Nick has already had serious, serious doubts to what he’s capable of aka worried he could, if the right buttons were pushed, be a murderer on multiple occasions. Ellie has been there with him for all of that, she knows how low his confidence is when it comes to his perceived “goodness” and she knows just how much it would break him if he learned his direct bloodline IS capable of murder. She knows how he’d spiral if that was true and so she’s gripping to any small possibility his dad is innocent. But nick, oh poor Nick my heart- he’s done. He opens up to Ellie without literally any prodding. He’s baring his long buried soul to her, that troubled, broken childhood that he surely keeps locked away in fear of letting anyone see a weakness. He bares it without question because he feels so safe in her presence he can let her in to see his deepest shame and by extension his deepest worry 🥺🥺🥺 and poor Ellie, she’s a little lost at how to go about helping him because she does have a good relationship with her dad, so yes all she has here for him is saying his father was guilty of a crap dad but it’s because she’s still trying to convince them both he has to be good. He has to be good for Nick’s sake. Buuuuuuut it doesn’t really work does it, because oh shit pissed the fuck off Nick is a site to behold isn’t it 🥵 kicking down doors once again and his smart “still think he’s innocent” oooooooo damn. Ellie’s face says it all- she’s trying so hard to hold out hope for Miguel, so hard. She needs him to be innocent she’s willing to speak it into existence a thousand times but her face is like fuck this is going to kill him and I can’t do a damn thing about it other than just watch. 

More pissed off Nick 🥵 but when you think about it is so so painful, all I can picture is that little 5 year old boy who woke up the next morning waiting, waiting, and waiting. Staring out the window at each car that slows down but ultimately passes. Tugging on his Mami’s shirt asking for the hundredth time when papi is coming back from the bakery with his hojaldre, oblivious to the tears that are slowly sliding down her cheek because she still can’t find the words to tell him what she knows deep down. That little boy who when the sun starts to set the confusion sets in with it. Why hasn’t my papi come back yet? Where is he? He promised. The sadness and sense of rejection that starts to fill his little heart when his mami tucks him and his sister into bed and he asks one final time where papi is and will he say goodnight to them and his Mami has to say she’s not sure when he’s coming home and quietly to the side, “if he’s coming home.” The little boy who weeks later has finally abandoned watching out the window every, single morning. The little boy who had his heart ripped out and thrown to the side of the road when he realized his papi didn’t go to the bakery and instead he was thrown out by his father like a day-old hojaldre. So yeah pissed Nick is fine af but good god the angst underneath is suffocating. Because Nick in this moment doesn’t know the *true* reason Miguel left. He knows what he lived and what he lived is a piece of shit. Nick’s response to “is that what you think of me” is amicable because OOF he could’ve gone the fuck off right there and told him what he really thought of him but he stuck with only a slight dig. TO WHICH MIGUEL. FUCK YOU MIGUEL. IT HASN’T HURT YOU MUCH. FUCK YOU MIGUEL. FUCK YOU. SOUNDS LIKE YOU WERE A SHIT DAD SO YEAH PROBABLY A GOOD THING YOU LEFT. THANK HIM NICK WITH YOUR FISTS BECAUSE HE’S A LITTLE SHIT. FUCK YOU MIGUEL. TOUGHENED HIM UP SO MUCH HE SHUTS EVERYONE OUT. YEAH FUCK YOU. 

And then man here is the point where it all just muddies in Nick’s mind. The poor dude. He knows this line of work, hell he was undercover for almost a decade. He understands how that leaves almost no room for a family. He gets it, so deep deep deep down a tiny part of him realizes why Miguel likely *thought* it was ok to ditch his family. But for thirty years he’s felt abandoned- no reasoning can change that. 

“It’s good to know he was making a nice living while my family was starving” fucking GET HIM NICK. Damn I wish Miguel had been in the room for that. He deserved to hear that one. Ruthless. 

I do not know how I missed this the first time around but holy shit Nick asked to be removed from the case. Nicholas Torres- a man who does not back down. A man who bullied his way into finishing his first ever case with this team that he was arguably way too close to that one too. This is how much pain Miguel brings him. A man who does not quit, not in his vocabulary - was so pissed at getting sent home back when Reeves died, he asks to get sidelined. He actually asks to get sidelined. Holy shit Miguel did a number on Nick and I mean we knew this but 🥺😭😭 poor bby. No wonder you don’t trust yourself in a serious relationship. It’s not the girl you’re worried about it’s you. You don’t think you’re capable of staying, you’re terrified you’ll be just like your dad and leave. once again, you’ve seen the similarities with trivial things and so this just cements your fear of failing at commitment. And this is Nick in just so much pain he asks to step back. oof. I do love Leon stepping into a slight fatherly role for Nick right there though, he shows his support, his pride in Nick and in that moment I think Nick realizes while his father by blood is shit, he’s got several other strong role models in his life that care and that’s why he agrees to work with him. 

Nick’s smarts comment about leaving the note behind 🤣 oh classic Torres move. Also do yourself a favor and pause it on Ellie’s reaction to him. GOLD hahaha she’s like ooo-kay did you really feel the need to say that, let’s not. Honestly I think I’ve given this look to my husband almost daily. They married y’all. 

So married that she overhears Miguel trying to talk to Nick and her hackles raise!!! She’s like hold the fuck up do not traumatize my baby even more, Nick do you need me??? Because I will get you out of this, I will be here for you, I will fight this man, just say the damn word!!!! And Nick ugh, his look. They can communicate with just a simple look, he knows all that she would do for him in that moment and still nods her off, but that tiny bit of gratitude is present. Then we find out that yes Grace is really good at guessing theories “in order to keep his young family safe, it means he has to leave. Of course he can’t *tell* them why he has to leave so that they continue to stay innocent and safe. So he plays it like he’s a deadbeat dude who was “too young” to be a father and is just now realizing it and leaves his wife, little daughter & son behind. Flash forward thirty years and the NCIS case leads them to him. A piece of evidence pops up with his alias, they go knocking down doors to interrogate a potential suspect (Nick’s father) before our lovely CIA agent interfere and claims he’s innocent because he’s a CI…” like DAMN, I’m good. Hahaha any ways the reason I bring this up is because I feel like I predicted/analyzed Nick’s feelings really well back then in this theory and after seeing his expressions, they hold true. Nick is just absolutely warring with himself during this explanation, searching for anything to confirm his dad truly is a deadbeat (and yes he is still absolutely a piece of shit for what he did, but there’s a “good” reason for his leaving and that’s what makes it so- hard.) and as I said when I first broke this down, Nick understands undercover work and his dad (being the POS he is) brings that up to Nick. Like he should “get” it because wouldn’t he do the same thing since he’s in that life? But here’s where (and Nick doesn’t totally realize it yet) Nick and Miguel are different. Because Nick came back, Nick stayed. He stayed y’all and he says it here but he does not realize the implications of his words quite yet. He is NOT the same as Miguel. Yeah he doesn’t like to sit in chairs but he has stayed. He has stayed through some tough shit too but he’s stayed nonetheless. More than Miguel could ever fucking say, that’s for sure. So yes, when Nick has the come to Jesus and realizes that he is not the same as his dad and he can and will stay? Damn I can’t wait for that moment. Also I wanted to slap Miguel when he called Nick “mijo” because BITCH YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL HIM THAT. YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL HIM YOUR SON. NO. “I’m not perfect but I did the best I could” well fuck you too Miguel because look at this broken five year old boy inside a thirty five year old man’s body. Does that look like the product of a “best you could”?? Does he look “ok” to you??? Fuck you. 

But yes here’s my take on where Nick is at: how do you forgive someone you’ve despised for thirty years once you know they “didn’t have a choice” (even though it will always feel like they had a choice or they could’ve explained it to you even if you were only five) and left in reality token you safe and give you a better chance at life? How do you reconcile the real dad and the one you lived with in your head for so long?? How???

And then you’re stuck still reeling from the night before and the bomb that was dropped and the reconciliation you’re attempting to your dad bringing in the ONE THING. The ONE THING he promised to bring home in the morning thirty years prior. How the actual fuck does one come back from that. Can I give another big FUCK YOU to Miguel Torres? Because seriously??? Why do you ever think that’s ok??? Hey I promised my kid I’d bring him hojaldres in the morning for breakfast thirty years ago so may as well make good on that promise right, only thirty years late that’s totally fine right? He won’t tell the difference right?

Fuck you, Miguel. 

And they’re still clearly Nick’s favorite because he’s brought Jimmy to a restaurant specifically for them and that just makes my heart break for the man he had to become without a father. He still held onto that love for them even though they were probably always associated with a horrible, horrible memory of being abandoned 🥺🥺 god damn Nick you’re so broken I’m so sorry. 

Ellie is still as supportive as ever and good god we clearly have lost all pretense of personal space at this point, what is her we don’t know her isn’t this normal for coworkers? But this conversation implies he called her after his talk with his dad and ugh yesssss 😩❤️ I still think he called her immediately after leaving the building, talked the entire car ride home and while getting ready for bed, needing the comfort of her voice on the other end of the line as he worked through his whirlwind of emotions and tried to come down off the cliff he felt himself on. All pretenses of a bad boy with a mysterious flare forever gone, his heart is open for her to see and he doesn’t give two shits about it anymore. But Ellie does a damn good job of girlfriend duties here and not only supports him but also gently prods him to see if he can maybe one day have a relationship with his father. The parallels she brings up makes him think (and also makes him look at her lips twice 👀 he’s just so close to her how could he not I mean right 😅) and I love that she’s still being v supportive but also trying to help him grow. 

And then Ellie giving Nick the option to go with his dad or go to the other location because she’s not going to push anything on him he doesn’t want and then when he chooses the embassy to avoid his dad her reaction had me laughing 🤣 but she respects it. And yet shortly after Miguel tries to team up with Nick and Ellie hears it from the other side of the bullpen, immediately all ears to step in if he wants to avoid him again despite giving him flack for it earlier. Nick can sense her worry and support and this is the moment he takes her advice in just a tiny step and accepts teaming up with his dad. But OMG KILL ME WHEN NICK THINKS HIS DAD IS DEAD BEFORE HE GETS TO TRY AT A RELATIONSHIP AGAIN. HIS WHISPERED “papa’s” I CAAAAAN’T. 

Ugh and then his last conversation with his dad while Ellie is checking on him constantly. It’s just too much, that little boy is back, desperately hoping for his dad to stick around. And Ellie is just so happy she can’t contain it for him and it’s perfect. He walks right to her, her hand on his back because they just need to touch each other after such a heavy couple of days and Nick echoes her advice back at her because he’s showing he listens and he values her insight and I just love it. 

AND THEN MIGUEL HAS COME TO RIP MY HEART OUT BECAUSE HE’S A PIECE OF SHIT REMEMBER. 

My poor bby Nick’s face when he realized his dad LIES AND LEAVES. REMEMBER. HE LIES AND LEAVES. God Wilmer killed it because Nick is literally on the verge of tears and my heart breaks and then yes he goes to Gibbs to see his pseudo-father who he then realizes is more of a father figure than Miguel will ever be and hell that’s okay but STILL. 

I will end this WWR with a I love supportive girlfriend Ellie and another big Fuck You to Miguel Torres.

Goodnight.

[zainclaw]

hmmm talk to us about both eddies and bucks ptsd and how it manifests differently? like you can take this as the s4 finale happenings or just generally✨

Okay so I just wanna make it clear that I'm obviously not a PSTD expert, and I never claimed to be. I’m sure not everyone diagnosed with this disorder has the exact same experience, so I can only reflect on my own.

And Eddie is definitely the one I can relate to the most? (Even before the s4 shooting, even before this new s5 clip of him collapsing - even though both those things only make me relate to him all the more. I’ll add on that later.)

Mostly because of the numbness I experienced in the years directly following my trauma. I was told it was a defense mechanism, my brain not wanting me to feel the bad things, so it just didn’t let me feel anything at all. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t happy. There was just... nothing. For two years I didn’t really smile? And I didn’t even take note of that at the time - it was my mom who told me, later on. And I always saw Eddie as someone who’d experience the same thing? After he came back from Afghanistan, and in the immediate aftermath of Shannon walking out on him and Christopher. For a few years, leading up to him moving to LA, I can see him struggling to feel anything at all. And then emotions slowly, slowly returned to him, mainly thanks to his son.

(I know it’s canon that Eddie’s dad used to tell him to ‘suck it up’ as well as Eddie expressing he needs to stay in control for Christopher, as an explanation to why we don’t see him getting overly emotional too often, but I don’t think those things shatter my headcanon. These things can co-exist.)

So let’s talk about flashbacks. The way Eddie falls to the floor in that s5 promo clip, looking so fucking similar to when he was shot in the street last season, just reminds me of my own ‘flashbacks’ I had in the direct aftermath of the trauma. (They stopped happening over time.) I had bodily harm done to me, and during those ‘flashbacks’ my body would react as if it was happening all over again. It just completely hijacks your body. And that’s what Eddie’s fall in that promo looks like to me. His brain just being so fucking convinced that he’s in that street getting shot again, tricking him that he’s feeling the bullet again, the force and pain knocking him over just like back then.

(I don’t really like using the word ‘flashback’ here because, for me, it’s a physical thing just as much as it is mental. And, idk, but ‘flashback’ sounds like it’s just something happening inside your head.)

That one clip has just given me so much hope? I’m so tired of writers giving their characters PTSD as nothing more but a plot device. A terribly inconsistent one, most of the time. They want their characters to have been through shit, and for that to affect them, but only sometimes. Only when it fits the plot. They only want their badass war veteran character to be triggered when it’ll make for a cool story, but the rest of the time said character is gonna act as someone who’s got no triggers at all. You know what I mean?

So many shows do this. 911 does this. Buck (and Christopher) most likely would have developed a fear of water after the tsunami. Chimney most likely would’ve been hesitant to get in a car again after his car accident. Bobby probably should be triggered by the people drinking alcohol around him throughout the seasons. Eddie should’ve found fireworks a little unsettling after returning from war.

These things could’ve still happened “off-screen”, sure. And I love how this is explored in fics. (Buck being scared of water post-tsunami, as well as him being hesitant around the ladder truck post-s2. Which only adds to him crawling under the firetruck to save Eddie in 4x14. Wow.) But it’s not shown in canon.

The only time the writers actually seem to remember that their characters should be triggered by their past trauma is what they did with Maddie; her not wanting a Christmas tree because it brought her back to a terrifying Christmas with Doug, as well as her freaking out when she dropped a plate like she thought Chimney was gonna hit her like Doug did. I was so happy they actually took her trauma seriously. But, yeah, for the most part... I feel like they’ve mostly forgotten about a lot of the other characters’ trauma.

And like I said in my original post about this, I’m not the slightest surprised by this anymore. I never expect a show to actually care enough to write a character with PTSD that I’ll be able to see myself in fully. But yeah whoops now I have hope for them actually giving us what we want with Eddie this season, and I’m both scared and excited to see what they’re gonna do.

...this got quite personal. Sorry about that. And I guess I talked mostly about Eddie, not so much about Buck. I hope you don’t mind <3

[seerofmike]

The Writing In Apex Kinda Sucks And Also They Use Ship Bait As A Plot Device I Hate It Here

a stupid essay/rant encouraged by @zombiegloss that originally started as a youtube video script so if its like. weird at points. this was intended to be a verbal rant SNZISKSIA

basically i'm gonna talk abt the caustic-wattson-crypto relationship drama and how i think it was mishandled and how much the writers kind of Suck because i Can

you are free to disagree with me on any of my points and think that this aspect of the story was handled well, this is just my opinion, and i'd love to hear your thoughts and counterpoints !

first, addressing some things:

i know this is a battle royale and not necessarily a story-based game, so i can’t expect it to have masterful witcher-style writing.

but with the direction the game seems to be going; putting quests, evolving interactions, and comics in the game, plus coming out with a lore book and hinting at something bigger in the future, i think it’s fair to criticize it for lackluster writing, especially since what i’m criticizing has been something present since Apex’s story technically began.

secondly, i am not a professional writer. i’m a high schooler who writes as a hobby. i don’t have the decades of experience that some of the apex writers do, and i can’t claim to be a better writer than they are--but i also don’t have to be a five-star chef to realize that something tastes bad. when i critique something and give suggestions, i am not saying i could’ve done it better. i’m just bringing up what i think could have worked.

third, before i upset anyone , when i say a relationship is badly written, i’m not telling you that you can’t ship it or that your ship sucks. i’ll briefly touch on the shipping aspect of this and how it’s a detriment to the story but Ye

okay, so with that out of the way, let us Begin

relationships are often the emotional core of a story, and how strong your reaction is to conflict in these relationships depends on how the story sets them up. if you want the audience to care about these characters and what they go through, you need to develop them and establish the type of relationship they have well. it’s why so many people cried in the last episode of telltale’s the walking dead. you’ve spent roughly 12 hours bonding with clementine and protecting her, and your relationship with her is part of several story beats as well as character beats for lee. 

when these two characters’ relationship reaches its peak at the end of the game, it’s powerful, and it’s emotional. you care. you feel something, and the fact that you have to choose what to do to lee only makes it more gut-wrenching. 

now, the walking dead is entirely story-based and especially character-driven, so it may be unfair to compare it to apex, but i just wanted to lay the groundwork down for what i think is a strong relationship that makes you feel something when conflict arrives, in this case the conflict being lee getting bit and clementine having to decide his fate.

the broken ghost in general is kind of not-good sometimes, tom casiello previously wrote for soap operas and you can really, REALLY tell sometimes.

this story feels like it should’ve taken place a little later, and that we should’ve had a season to actually set up the characters and their relationships, but that’s a story for another day.

to put it bluntly, the set-up for the crypto, wattson, and caustic conflict is done poorly. for caustic and wattson's relationship it’s a little better, but not by much. 

wattson and caustic having a relationship was hinted at in season 2, when her lore indicated that caustic was among one of the Legends who comforted her after her father died. In season four lore materials posted on Twitter, an email from Jacob Young states that Caustic is acting paternal towards Wattson. In season five, interactions get added to the Game, and this is the first time we actually see their relationship in action, as they have unique revive voice lines for each other. in the quests, when wattson is injured, caustic lashes out at loba and attacks her out of what seems to be anger at wattson’s current state.

Side Note this plot point was really stupid and done for cheap drama because she literally wakes up like two chapters later and they don’t even give her anything to say it’s just suddenly oh yeah crypto and wattson are working together. the same exact injury thing happens to octane later but nobody gIVES A SHIT because again, it’s just cheap soap opera drama.

their relationship might seem a little bit sudden for anyone who wasn’t on top of twitter lore drops, but like, it’s okay, i guess. i’ll give it the slightest credit for at least establishing something between the two in terms of voice lines and stuff, even if for some it might seem like it came out of nowhere.

what did come out of nowhere, though, was crypto and wattson’s friendship. in the quests, crypto and wattson are tasked with rebuilding the broken ghost because of their respective skills, and they’re seen talking in chapter six while they work on it. we’re not really given a clear timeline on how long the story in the broken ghost is, but i think it takes about a week, maybe.

unlike wattson and caustic, their relationship has been given absolutely zero material to work with before now, not even a passing glance in the trailers--which is a little weird considering crypto took down the repulsor tower and destroyed wattson’s home, but. Whatever.

tl dr of the chapter: crypto and wattson talk to each other while doing nerd shit, crypto laughs at wattson’s bad pun, and then suddenly they’re BESTIEEEES, until a couple dozen lines later in the same chapter. then they’re Not.

crypto’s drone gets hacked by revenant while everyone was kind of on edge after the reveal of a spy in their midst, he gets framed as the spy by caustic, anddddd wattson gets upset.

before i get into how dumb this storyline is, i’m gonna talk about the set-up to this conflict.

we have been given no reason to believe that these characters have ever talked to each other, and quite frankly, their friendship doesn’t really make sense.

ignoring the fact that crypto destroyed wattson’s home--which she probably doesn’t know about, so that’s forgiven for now--crypto is a paranoid guy. in the lore book he makes people stand on fucking footprints in his house so he can scan them for weapons and listening devices, and he apparently doesn’t stick around much after the games and nobody knows anything about him because he doesn’t talk to them.

a key part of crypto’s story is the fact that he is undercover and afraid of anyone finding out anything about him ever. him becoming friends with wattson kind of comes out of the blue, and we’re not even given a reason as to why they supposedly became close in the first place. i would kind of understand if like, maybe he draws parallels with her and mila in his mind and it makes him open up a little more, but that doesn’t happen. he just laughs at her joke and suddenly they’re friends.

maybe they’re trying to go for this ‘wattson can become friends with anybody’ angle, kind of hinted at with caustic but not really we’ll get into that, but that also? kind of doesn’t make sense since so many of her voice lines straight-up say she doesn’t understand people and electricity is more her thing, but honestly, she also does have those really friendly elements in her voice lines too, so its not as egregious as what they did with crypto.

their sudden out-of-the-blue friendship would’ve been fine if they spent a little more time fleshing it out, and giving us something to work with, but instead, the story immediately tries to rip it apart and frame it as this grand conflict where crypto is framed as the mole, crypto then accuses caustic, and wattson feels betrayed.

except it doesn’t really work, because we don’t give a shit. for several reasons. 

one: crypto and wattson became friends and then ended their friendship in the same exact chapter. they did not speak to each other onscreen until this chapter began, you can read the entire quest on the wiki and see for yourself that their interactions up until that point were nonexistent aside from mentions in the narration that they were building something together.

the reason wattson feels betrayed is kind of stupid too. why does she really care that much if one of them betrayed loba? nobody else really cared about the fact that one of them was a spy, in fact, nobody even seems to like loba that much, and they just found out that loba’s been lying to them this whole time, and wattson was conscious for that conversation and had a speaking line, so she’s fully aware of the situation. 

maybe it’s just like, the idea that one of them lied, but that’s still kind of a weak reason. 

this entire betrayal thing is just dumb, and it gets even worse when you realize that there could have been an actual legitimate reason for wattson to feel betrayed by crypto--even if it still would’ve come across as weak conflict because of their newly established friendship, it would’ve made more sense than this. 

Crypto destroyed Wattson’s home. He took down the tower and then all the flyers and stuff invaded Kings Canyon and made it their bitch. Not only that, but Wattson considers the Syndicate her family. The Syndicate are the very people who framed Crypto for murder and he’s trying to take them down. 

They could’ve set up actual conflict with these things, and it almost seemed like they would, because Caustic briefly brings up that Crypto could be working with Revenant because he has something against the Syndicate but then that doesn’t really go anywhere and we’re just back to Wattson feeling betrayed because either Crypto or Caustic was a spy and she doesn’t know who.

Weak conflict could’ve been made better by a strong relationship and a weak relationship could’ve still been interesting with strong conflict, but both the relationship between Crypto and Wattson and the conflict that drives them splitting up as friends were really weak and didn’t make much sense. 

It would’ve been ten times more interesting if Wattson found out Crypto ruined her home, the arena she grew up in, and was now participating in the Games to take out the people she regards as her family. That’s where her distrust could’ve manifested and conflict could’ve began, but instead it was the stupid betraying loba thing. why do you care. you just started talking to this guy like 2 hours ago.

also caustic’s whole reason for framing crypto feels stupid as fuck. he didn’t just frame crypto randomly, he framed him specifically because he doesn't want him to influence wattsob because he likes her Big Brain, but this is the FIRST time we have seen those two interact. 

what influence is he talking about? wraith and wattson have been shown to be friendly with each other in the trailers, according to tom’s tweets, and in the story too so why doesn’t he frame her? at this point the audience had slightly more build-up for those two’s relationship than crypto and wattson and a betrayal storyline would’ve felt a little more deserved if still weak.

this is the point where i briefly want to touch upon shipping, and the fact that part of this conflict feels driven by shipbait. 

aside from their relationship coming out of nowhere and the writers trying to make the stakes seem high and deeply emotional to the characters involved (despite this essentially being the first time they’ve ever interacted) tom casiello literally addresses shippers in a tweet regarding chapter seven, and as the story between these characters progresses, it becomes clear to me, at least that the crypto-wattson thing is just bait for shippers, and it’s lazy. 

it’s easy to get away with giving your characters little to no relationship development if you’re just counting on shippers to do the heavy mental lifting for you

why should i put any effort into making this relationship seem believable? people are going to see a young guy and a young girl having bare minimum interaction and assume there’s romantic interest! then i don’t have to do any work, see look, it’s a ready-made relationship wrapped in a bow for me! all that’s left for me to do is give them conflict so i can keep teasing shippers with lines like ‘you never deserved her’!

i think it’s reasonable for me to suspect shipbait, since tom casiello likes doing darksparks shipbait on twitter, and i’m like, eighty percent sure mirage and bloodhound suddenly being childhood friends in the book is shipbait too, because these characters were the number one ship in apex for a long time despite little to no interaction, and then all of a sudden in the lore book they’re childhood friends despite this literally never being mentioned before?

like bloodhound is set up to be mysterious and nobody knows what they look like, or where they’re from, or who their family is--except for mirage Apparently, who played with them when he was a kid on their home planet, and has seen them with their mask off, because bloodhound did not wear a mask when their parents were still alive.

its weird.

i’m pretty sure they’ve said somewhere they were working on this book before apex even came out, so i could just be completely wrong and they always planned for mirage and bloodhound to know each other, but if that’s the case, why did they never mention it like they did octane and lifeline?

i refuse to believe MIRAGE never brought it up either like ‘heeeeyy bloodhound remember when we used to throw eggs at our parents lab haha wanna go do to that to bangalore’s room’ 

[silence]

‘good talk buddy’

ANYWAYS I GOT OFF TOPIC. POINT IS, shipping is a detriment to the story because the writers don’t feel like they actually have to put any work into establishing or developing the relationship between characters when they know the community’s just going to do it for them anyways, and that they can put in shipbait and it’s fine and it makes sense when it really doesn’t.

imagine watching captain america civil war after not seeing a single other marvel movie.

why would you care about the avengers splitting up or tony and steve butting heads or steve’s commitment to bucky? you wouldn’t care, at least not as much as someone who’s seen all the movies and knows the relationship between the characters and why the sokovia accords exist in the first place. you don’t have context and you don’t have any reason to be emotionally invested in these characters’ relationship.

 this feels like that. the writers tried to squeeze this relationship and stuff into a single chapter and we don’t fucking care unless we were already invested in the idea of their relationship (shippers) because we barely spent any time with it.

so to summarize this little section, the set-up of this storyline Kinda Sucks! crypto and wattson barely seem to know each other, because we the audience barely saw them together and the writers are relying on shipbait in place of a relationship.

wattson and caustic are a little better but not great, but the conflict is stupid and it only gets stupider.

moving onto summarizing the rest of the broken ghost, gibraltar and caustic talk, caustic LITERALLY confesses to being the mole and says he framed crypto so he couldn’t corrupt wattson and to appear innocent because his identity was suspected, then that wraps up the season storyline.

season six begins with new voice lines, where wattson has had enough of crypto and caustic’s shit and is all passive-aggressive and going ‘this doesn’t change anything’. she has to decide who to trust, and how to figure out The Truth for herself because she’s not a little girl anymore. crypto and caustic are both trying to convince her they’re innocent and it creates some interesting conflict.

just kidding. it’s terrible conflict. you want to know why?

BECAUSE GIBRALTAR TRIED TO TELL HER THE TRUTH, RIGHT AFTER THE SEASON 5 QUEST HAPPENED, AND SHE LITERALLY REFUSED TO HEAR IT.

LIKE THERE’S A SEASON 6 LOADING SCREEN WHERE HE’S TELLING EVERYONE THE TRUTH ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHEN HE GETS TO WATTSON AND IS LIKE HEY I KNOW WHO THE MOLE WAS AND WHY THEY DID IT, SHE JUST GOES i dont wanna hear it. i need to think

IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH WHY ARE YOU REFUSING TO HEAR IT

SHE SPENDS ALMOST TWO ENTIRE SEASONS MAD AT CRYPTO FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T DO BECAUSE SHE TOLD GIBRALTAR TO FUCK OFF WHEN HE TRIED TO TELL HER WHAT HAPPENED

ITS SO DUMB

i think it was towards the end of season 6 or the beginning of season 7 where apex posted this picture of wattson asleep at her desk where she has a letter from gibraltar on it that looks like it tells her the truth, so she knows now, she knows what happened, but NOW her issue is the fact that she doesn’t know anything about crypto.

WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN DAMAGE. YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT BLOODHOUND EITHER ARE YOU THIS UPSET WITH BLOODHOUND TOO?? HAVE YOU EVER TALKED TO PATHFINDER. DO YOU HATE PATHFINDER TOO

oh but she was friends with crypto and now she’s mad that he lied to her EXCEPT THEIR RELATIONSHIP WASN’T BUILT UP WELL SO IT JUST FEELS STUPID. THEY SPENT LONGER BEING NOT-FRIENDS THAN THEY SPENT BEING FRIENDS. THEY BECAME FRIENDS IN ONE CHAPTER AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AT THE END OF THAT CHAPTER THEIR FRIENDSHIP ENDED AND THEN WATTSON SPENT LIKE 2 SEASONS MAD AT HIM FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T DO . 

AND THE WRITERS TRIED TO RECTIFY THIS BY SAYING OH SHE’S NOT MAD ABOUT THE TRAITOR THING SHE’S MAD BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM AND IT’S LIKE WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT MAKE THAT CLEAR WHY DOES SHE SAY ‘IT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU DID’ IN HER VOICE LINES WHY DOES SHE CALL HIM A TRAITOR IF HER CONFLICT WAS HER NOT KNOWING MUCH ABOUT HIM . WHAT DID HE DO. 

HE JUST STOOD THERE AND LAUGHED AT HER JOKE AND THEN HE GOT FRAMED AND THEN THAT WAS THE END OF THE CHAPTER AND NOW SHES SUDDENLY LIKE IM ACTUALLY MAD BECAUSE YOURE A LIAR AND I CANT TRUST YOU EVEN THOUGH I NOW KNOW YOU WERE FRAMED I STILL DO NOT LIKE YOU AND HES LIKE YEAH THATS MY FAULT

The Caustic voicelines are stupid too, again his reason for framing Crypto was stupid and a lot of his voicelines just seem to be that shipbait thing again but like from the angle of overprotective dad who doesn’t like the new boyfriend. it’s stupid but not as egeregious as this next part which is

crypto telling wattson his identity.

CRYPTO was framed for MURDER and is paranoid and can’t trust anyone and doesn’t talk to anyone and the last time he did talk to someone he got framed for Another thing and the person he was talking to turned her back on him and actively refused to know the truth for like 2 seasons and then he went This Is Fine I Can Tell Her My Identity

the stupidest update to this storyline was crypto telling wattson the truth

why did they do it on the dropship where there are presumably syndicate members and other legends around.

why didn’t he scan wattson for listening devices like he did for pathfinder in the book.

why is he telling her his identity when he knows she has very close ties to the people that FRAMED HIM for MURDER. Does he trust her that much? WHY? They spoke to each other in a chapter and then spent two seasons not talking to each other beyond passive-aggressive BS. why are you so fucking stupid taejoon

their relationship was so poorly set-up that even if the writers maybe intended for them to come across as close friends who had spent weeks bonding, it really feels like they became friends in a single conversation, had a falling out, and now crypto suddenly trusts her with his identity after an undetermined amount of time because he wants to be friends again. 

that does not make SENSE this conflict feels contrived AS FUCK and the resolution feels even worse and unearned UGGGHHHH

it honestly comes across as crypto feeling desperate for friendship, and maybe this would’ve worked better if that’s the angle they played it as.

he’s been alone for roughly two years, and just wants a friend, and he’s honestly so lonely he just breaks down to the first person who’s really talked to him. it could’ve been an interesting little part of his character, and they could've gone into depth about how much this situation has affected him, but that’s not what they’re doing. he’s still paranoid and anxious and doesn’t trust anyone, except for wattson, because the plot needs him to or else there won’t be any stupid soap opera drama.

and to rub salt in the wound, wattson’s new voice lines with caustic have him telling her that she forgave crypto.

WHAT ARE YOU FORGIVING HIM FOR. ARE YOU FORGIVING HIM FOR BEING FRAMED? WHY DID HE HAVE TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE THE ONE WHO REFUSED TO HEAR THE TRUTH?

 did the conversation just go hey my real name is taejoon park and something bad happened to me and she went aight i forgive you WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

Caustic’s new voice lines to Crypto where he’s like ‘what did you tell her’--YOU TOLD GIBRALTAR STRAIGHT-UP YOUR EVIL MASTER PLAN LIKE A SUPERVILLAIN AND NOW YOU’RE SURPRISED WATTSON AND CRYPTO ARE ON GOOD TERMS NOW?!

THAT’S LIKE TELLING SOMEONE YOUR SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER AND THEN BEING SURPRISED WHEN YOU BECOME THE VICTIM OF IDENTITY FRAUD. YOU SET YOURSELF UP FOR THIS WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE CRYPTO DID SOMETHING SINISTER OR LIED OR WHATEVER. WHAT THE FUCK. WHY DO YOU HAVE LIKE 3 BRAINCELLS

this is at like ten pages already so i’m going to just try and wrap this up quickly. 

it’s frustrating seeing this storyline play out when there are actually good relationships and storylines written into apex. i’m kind of getting tired of the loba and revenant conflict, but we at least had set-up to it in the form of a few animated shorts and it doesn’t play out as stupidly as this story does. bangalore and loba’s friendship is actually developed well, even if the point between the end of season 5 and season 6 where they suddenly talk like each other feels like it could’ve used a little more. 

where crypto and wattson having an established friendship in the broken ghost failed, lifeline and octane’s established friendship works because we’ve been told since octane’s release they were childhood friends and given lore materials that indicate they’ve known each other for a very long time.

apex wants this storyline between crypto and wattson and caustic to feel dramatic and tense and ultimately rewarding when crypto and wattson did become friends for real and stuff, but instead it just comes across as hollow and empty. 

there’s nothing there. it’s a case of tell, don’t show, and it looks like this stupid conflict is gonna keep going for another couple of seasons at this rate. 

side note: this entire script was written before the new twitter comics

please tell me ur thoughts and feel free to respond with ur own lil essay

also believe it or not this is not the "shipping is a detriment to apex's story" essay i was gonna write this is a completely different essay that has some overlap SKXISOSOW