#this was SO MUCH FUN to write

[th3secr3th1story]

how gojo tries to get your attention after a fight

gojo messed up majorly. last night, he came home tired and stressed after a mission with a special grade curse. yes, it was successful (obviously. it's gojo.), but it still drained him.

he was so out of it and wasn't feeling like himself, but you, as a wonderful partner, tried to take care of him. gojo got frustrated, and sure, he felt guilty for it, but he was done.

and he took it all out on you. you would've gladly left him alone if he'd just asked you, but gojo was never one for good communication.

you eventually got the hint and realized it was best for him to be alone, but the words from last night still stung and the hurtful glares unforgotten. you decided you would just ignore him until he apologized. until he realized that you can't put up with this anymore.

so, the problem was now with gojo. he woke up that morning to an empty bed, curious, because you usually beg him to stay in longer.

and then, of course, it hit him. he can't remember what he was so upset about. yes, he was tired, but you were just there to help him after a long day. and he ruined it all.

sliding out of bed, he sidles up to you in the bathroom as you brush your teeth, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.

"last night was crazy, huh?"

"..."

"i absolutely destroyed that curse though, baby. nothing left."

"..."

okay...so maybe this was worse than he expected. but it would be okay because he would figure out a way to fix it all. he's gojo satoru; if he can kill special grade curses he can definitely get your forgiveness!

plan A--commence!

naturally, instead of apologizing like a normal person, gojo sneaks around the house tightening every jar he can find. your leave in conditioner, the pickles, jam...anything with a screw-on lid that he laid his eyes on.

all that was left was to wait for you to reach for one of the jars, realize it was screwed on too tight, and ask him for help.

an hour later, seated in the living room, he watches you enter the kitchen, looking for your favorite quick snack--pickles!!

he gets ready to see your angry but desperate face. should you forgive gojo and enjoy your snack, or save your pride but remain hungry? you'd debate with yourself for a bit, but eventually you'd begrudgingly walk over to him. "just open it," you'd say. he'd unscrew the jar, you'd smile at each other. he'd pull you into his ar-

oh. you opened it by yourself. the sound of a jar popping open snapped him out of his imagination, watching you pull out a few pickles and happily bite into them.

there may have been one small flaw with gojo's masterplan--he forgot that you're stronger than him.

no sweat! it's all good! he was already thinking up something new. it was time for plan B!

galloping over to your air conditioning, he cranks it all the way up (as much as your paychecks would allow, at least). he had seen this in one of those stupid romance movies he'd begged you to watch with him a couple months ago. it was only a matter of time before you ran over to him, shivering, begging for his warmth. he was sure of it.

20 or so minutes later, still nothing from you...odd! he walks around the house, curious to see what you're doing at a temperature like this. he finds you in one of his sweaters, curled up in your bed. his stomach sinks even more. he just wants to climb in with you, pull you into him, and smother you in his kisses.

"go away, satoru," you mumble. he sighs, sulking away back to the living room. at least you're talking to him?

he doesn't know how much time has passed but later when he gets off the couch his head hurts and he just wants to be near you. he'll do anything at this point. this is how he reaches plan C: apologize. what a novel idea!

he walks back into the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"hey."

"..." great.

"y/n, i know i messed up. i shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on you and i should've just asked for space. i know you were just trying to help. i'm so sorry, baby. please forgive me, i miss you and i can't stand you ignoring me."

for the first time in what has got to be a thousand hours to gojo, you finally turn your head and look him in the eyes. you swear you can see sparkles in them. oh, the things he does to you.

"i just want you to tell me what you need, 'toru. i'm not a mind reader, i can't just know what you want from me. i need you to know that i would do anything for you and i hate when you put up these walls."

"i know, baby. i'm so sorry."

you sigh, smiling at him a little. of course you forgive him. you always would, no matter what.

"i forgive you. wanna get in here with me?" you ask, lifting up the covers a little. why was it chilly?

"absolutely."

plan C: success!

who knew that apologizing could actually fix things? certainly not gojo!

[ironunderstands]

Double Indemnity, Spellbound and how a retroactive plot twist kicked the communities ass (which also has some VERY interesting implications for Aventio)

I had a very enlightening conversation on TikTok about the nature of these two romance/thrillers, and while unfortunately, I have no idea how to watch them, the plot synopses I’ve seen and analysis other people have made have caused me to come to this conclusion/interpretation of these references:

On the first viewing of the Double Indemnity questline, the reference to the DI movie is meant to be played straight, with Aventurine and Ratio being just as doomed to fail as they are in the movie, and their relationship as equally as toxic and fake.

On second viewing, it’s the complete opposite, and the track (and other movie reference) you receive at the end, Spellbound, proves it.

Let’s start with Double Indemnity.

Also disclaimer I’m gonna be over simplifying the plot/themes of these movies because a) both are singular references, DI is only referenced in the name of the quest itself and Spellbound is only referenced in a track you receive once you complete DI, and references this small probably aren’t meant to be anything more than a fun Easter egg for those who notice it b) this is hoyoverse they aren’t clever enough for that anyways c) the nature of references isn’t going to be having everything be the exact same anyways, so I’m just going to go with the overall interpretation of DI + Spellbound/their impact, picking the stuff which aligns with the actual plot of the DI quest, I don’t care what happens in one frame at 30:01.56 minutes in and neither do the writers

Anyways, how does the Double Indemnity reference on the first viewing seem?

On our first play through of the Double Indemnity quest, we are made to believe that Dr. Ratio and Aventurine do not trust each other, but they are begrudgingly working together for the sake of stealing Penacony for the IPC. Then, Aventurine makes it seem as if he wishes to use the singer Robin’s- also the sister of Sunday, the head of the Oak Family and the one they are negotiating with- death as a means to pressure Sunday into forking over some of the Family’s secrets, which Aventurine will then use against him in future negotiations.

With this setup, the Double Indemnity reference is a solemn warning- Aventurine and Ratio will fail.

You see, in the movie, Phyllis Dietrechson intends to kill her husband in order to earn the money from the Double Indemnity clause (which is a real legal thing btw!), roping in one Walter Neff when he falls for her. However, their relationship isn’t stable and in the end, Walter betrays Phyllis, ratting her out to the investigator Keyes, ultimately meaning they don’t earn the DI clause, also killing Phyllis in the process.

Hopefully you can already see where I’m going with this, but it’s time to draw some fun parallels.

Sunday is Keyes, Ratio is Walter, Aventurine is Phyliss and Robin is Phyliss’s husband.

Although Aventurine a) isn’t married to Robin and b) he didn’t actually kill her, he is the one who witnessed her “death” and in the first viewing of the Double Indemnity quest, we are made to believe he intends to profit off of it, although this time the payout isn’t money: it’s Penacony.

To do this, he enlists the help of Ratio- albeit not seducing him, but still convincing him to help nonetheless- and together they go to meet Sunday for negotiations.

However, Ratio “betrayed” Aventurine, ratting him out to Sunday behind his back and informing him of his plan, which mirrors how Walter confesses to Keyes. This results in Aventurine being sentenced to death, much like how Phyllis dies by Walter’s hand, Aventurine seems like he will die by Ratio’s, calling him a wretch before slinking off.

And there you go, their partnership is as doomed as the one in the movie, failing because their trust + love didn’t hold up till the end, a devious foreshadowing.

At least, that’s how it seems on the first playthrough.

Because Aventurine and Ratio’s plan SUCCEEDS.

And on the second viewing, knowing that the betrayal is fake, you realize they succeed because they do the one thing the people in DI (and I’ll get to Spellbound) DONT do- they actually TRUST each other.

Ratio and Aventurine’s plot is a success. And it’s because they deliberately made it seem like they were doing a Double Indemnity plot. Like they were going to make the same mistakes as the characters in the movie. Sunday falls for the false appearance hook, line and sinker, and that’s his downfall.

They win because they TRUST each other, you can even say because they actually LOVE each other, unlike the characters in the movie, where it’s more list than anything else. Walter and Phyllis don’t make it together to the end but Ratio and Aventurine DO, and they get to continue on with their lives because of it. The reference to Double Indemnity in this quest is genius because it works both before and after you learn the retroactive twist of Penacony. It makes you believe Aventurine + Ratio are doomed to fail, and it makes you realize they were always going to succeed, expertly dawning the false appearances Sunday expects from them, becoming literal actors playing out the roles of two people who will fall short due to their selfishness. Sunday believes he’s seen this film before which is why he BUYS IT, and god it’s just beautiful looking back on it. He thinks he’s Keyes about to uncover a dastardly plot to profit off his sisters death, and in turn he paints Ratio and Aventurine with the identities of those he believes would do such a thing, which they do their best to play into. Ugh it’s amazing.

And now, for Spellbound.

You receive this track after completing Double Indemnity, containing the description above.

Now, this is a reference to Spellbound, another one of Hitchcock’s films.

The main characters in this one are Dr. Anthony Edwards, a man suffering from amnesia, and Dr. Constance Peterson, a psychoanalyst who he was meant to replace, who discovers a dark secret about Edward’s while they fall for one another; he’s an imposter. He believes he killed the real Dr. Edward’s, but she thinks he’s just suffering from a guilt complex. Fake Edward’s goes missing, and the real Edward’s assistant arrived and informs them that he’s missing. She finds Fake Edward again, living under the pseudonym John Brown, and although he tries to leave, she convinces him to stay, telling him that with the help of her mentor, psychoanalysis can help recover his lost memories.

Through an incredibly complicated psychoanalysis of dream, Constance begins to uncover the truth- learning the person who believes himself to be Dr. Edward’s (and is using the pseudonym John Brown) is actually a man named John Ballantyne. Ballantyne accidentally caused the death of his younger brother in the past, resulting in his deep guilt, as well as recalling the location where the real Edwards died- skiing off a cliff to his death. With his memories, they find the body, but it has a bullet wound, so Ballantyne is taken into custody.

However, her boss, Dr. Murchison lets it slip that he actually used to know (and didn’t like) Dr. Edwards, and through another complicated sequence gets him to confess his guilt and ultimately kill himself, which frees Ballantyne, ending the movie with the two going on a honeymoon.

So, what does this mean in the context of the quest line?

Well, let’s say Ballantyne and Constance are representative of Ratio and Aventurine respectively.

“Every psychoanalyst must first have someone else diagnose them.”

If we read Aventurine as the psychoanalyst (Constance) and Ratio as the diagnoser/doctor (Ballantyne), it reveals an interesting interpretation.

That being that they knew the truth from the start/ they had already succeeded.

Or in other words, unlike in Double Indemnity, in Spellbound, they actually succeed.

In the film, Constance is the one doing the diagnosing, the one trying to figure out the truth, and you can see that in Aventurine pretending he’s trying to find out the truth behind Robin’s death. However, in the DI quest, it’s the opposite. Ratio’s as Ballantyne is the one doing the diagnosing for the psychoanalysist, Constance, or rather, Aventurine.

To diagnose someone, you must be very familiar with them, or at the very least the ailment plaguing them, and Ratio he knows Aventurine through and through at the start, and what plagues him (his own sense of meaninglessness) unlike the protagonists in Spellbound who despite falling for one another quickly, don’t begin being intimately familiar with one another.

In this way, they have already succeeded. Aventurine and Ratio already know one another, and while they might not know the reason behind Robin’s death, that was never what they were searching for in the beginning, meaning they effectively can skip through all the drama (aka the ups and downs of Spellbound, finding out the truth behind Robin’s/Edwards’ death), and reach their happy ending- a honeymoon; or in DI’s case, Aventurine attaining his cornerstone, and fulfilling his end of the plan.

Interestingly, Aventurine slots into the role of Ballantyne and Ratio as Constance equally well, with the phone call Constance makes to save Ballantyne being reminiscent of the note Ratio makes to save Aventurine, as well as Aventurine being the replacement, or in the sense, the one to find the truth about Robin.

Personally, I think Aventurine and Ratio are reminiscent of both the main leads in Spellbound, which is why it’s complicated to discern the meaning of the reference. Oh how I wish I knew what the original Chinese description for this was (if you do please tell me 🙏).

Is it just meant to signify them being in love? Is it meant to signify that they will succeed, due to how well they know each other? Is it both, which is what the inclusion of Double Indemnity (the movie) suggests?

Either way, it adds onto the already present idea that the trust between Aventurine and Ratio is what allowed them to succeed in Penacony, and that’s not just something expressed by these movie references.

Think Aventurines Eidolons: Stag Hunt Game and Prisoner’s Dilemma, both of which are game theories about trust. Or how Aventurine says that Ratio knows him best, or how Ratio entrusts Aventurine with close secrets of his, like him being the “Genius” of the council of Mundanites.

“Do you trust me?” “That depends on you.”

These are 2 lines in their 2.0 conversation that really stick out to me. Ratio will always offer his trust so long as Aventurine can prove himself worthy of it, and as we have seen, Aventurine always delivers, proving himself long before Penacony in the Final Victor lightcone, albeit in his weird homoerotic way.

Therefore Ratio will always trust him.

And because of that, they win.

Now whether you take the deep trust between them to be romantic or platonic, or infer the literal honeymoon at the end of Spellbound to mean something for Aventio, either way the feeling absolutely there, and it’s crucial for an understanding of their relationship.

Also damn, the retroactive plot twist fucking slaps.

[seiya-starsniper]

For the angst prompt list: “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Oh I absolutely ADORE this particular prompt, I'm so glad you've picked it. I'd previously done a fill for it [here], but this one's an entirely different premise all on its own, I hope you enjoy it!

angst prompts list

cw: memory loss -----

The man standing across the bar is dangerous.

Rob’s gained an appreciation for dangerous creatures, ever since he woke up in the middle of what was effectively the aftermath of a bloodbath, with no memory of who he was or how he got there. All he knew was that something bad had happened, and somehow, he’d survived it.

He’d fled London shortly after, when he’d discovered that while he didn’t know who he was, it seemed other more powerful and dangerous creatures did. Rob realized fairly quickly that if he had any hope of living a normal life, leaving the continent was probably the best course of action. He’d barely had time to investigate the life he’d had beforehand, only knowing that his captors had tracked him down under the name Robert Goldsmith.

That had been over 20 years ago. Rob hasn’t aged a day since then, and he’s also unfortunately never been able to fully shake attracting the supernatural. There’s something about him, the demons and the fae and the vampires tell him. Something old, something covetous. Rob knew he was older than he looked, he could feel his age in his bones, and one too many close calls with death all but proved he was some sort of immortal.

And now he’s caught the scent of something even older than him. The man (no, he’s not a man, he only wears the skin of a man) is stunningly beautiful, with wild dark hair and eyes bluer than the sky. If Rob didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man was an elf or some other type of fae, but no. He’s older than that. More powerful than that.

An angel, perhaps? He’s certainly beautiful enough to be one. Rob’s only heard rumors of their existence, but he’s also heard looking upon them would burn your eyeballs right out of their sockets. He tries not to appear wary and guarded as the creature locks eyes with him, but he can’t help but let out a small gasp, heart thundering in his chest, as the man-shaped being begins to approach his table. 

“Hob Gadling,” the creature addresses him. “I have been searching for you.”

The declaration hit Rob like a hammer to the face. Something inside him is howling, yes, that is me, I am Hob, and it’s almost as terrifying a feeling as when he first woke up in that bloodied basement, his memories wiped clean from his mind. Somehow this creature knows him, not in the way the others have known of him, but actually knows who he was before his memories were stolen.

“I’m sorry,” Rob (no, not Rob, he is Hob) says, trying hard to keep his voice as light as possible, even as he feels his entire world shift sideways. “Have we met before?”

The creature rears back as if Hob had slapped him across the face. His pained expression grips something in Hob’s heart, something old, something achingly familiar. Hob knows then, in this exact moment, that this creature is something precious to him. A companion. A friend. His heart yearns to reach out this beautiful being, to touch, to hold, anything to reassure him that finally, he is no longer alone in this world.

But then the man’s eyes narrow, pain now replaced by unmistakable fury, and it is Hob who rears back now, a deep seated fear he knows but does not remember rising to the surface. 

“A memory demon has taken your mind,” the man growls, his voice suddenly octaves deeper than it had been when he had first greeted Hob. He stands suddenly, and moves to leave the bar.

Absolute terror grips Hob then, and he shouts, “Wait, don’t leave!” before getting up himself to chase the man.

The stranger (his Stranger?) is fast, but Hob manages to catch him just outside the door. He grips the other man’s arm tightly, hoping and praying that somehow he won’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

“Please don’t leave me again,” Hob begs. Again? Hob thinks to himself. Has the stranger left him before?

The man’s expression softens instantly.

“Had my hubris not gotten the better of me,” the Stranger says, all righteous fury gone from his voice, “I would not have allowed this to happen. My imprisonment has taken far more from me than I ever feared.”

Imprisonment?

“You were captured?” Hob breathes, shocked.

“I was,” the Stranger replies. “I did not miss our appointment in 1989 intentionally.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about,” Hob says, practically in hysterics. “Will you tell me? Everything I’m missing? I…I haven’t been back to London since…”

“I had planned,” the Stranger interrupts him, “to seek the demon who stole your mind.”

“I’ve been without my memories for 20 years now,” Hob replies. “I can go on for a few more days. Just. Stay. Please.”

Something in his tone must appeal to the Stranger, because he sighs and then nods his agreement. 

“Have you a place where we may speak in private?” he asks, and Hob nods. 

“Not too far of a walk from here,” Hob replies, before he realizes he still has a death grip on the Stranger’s arm. He releases it, slowly, still not totally convinced the other won’t disappear if he lets go. When he does not, Hob jerks his head in the direction of his apartment, and then they begin to walk. 

“I guess we could start with names then?” Hob asks. “You, uh, you seemed to know mine. My true name anyways. I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten yours.”

The stranger huffs, and shakes his head, as if recalling a particularly humorous memory. Hob wonders if he’ll hear what it is in their talk tonight.

 “My name,” the man says, voice lowered to almost a purr, “is Dream.”

[orionauriga]

quantum immortality

the umbrella academy | five-centric s4 fix-it | 5k words | gen

“Be realistic,” Booth Five says. “It’s time you face inevitability. The rest of us have.” “No,” Five snarls, appalled at the words and doubly so to hear them in his own voice. “You know who you sound like? The Handler.”

In Max’s Deli, Five comes to a different conclusion.

-----

tldr: five hargreeves fucking loves and would do anything for his family and he would not lay down and die when told there's nothing he can do to save them.

[djarinova]

all eyes on him — eren jaeger

˗ˏ✎ synopsis: - you spend time watching eren, getting to know him and his friends, until one night you don't spot him at a party, and you come to realise that he's noticed you noticing him

˗ˏcontent - gn reader, college au, alcohol mention, slight peer pressure to drink but not really, reader is at a party, eren loves attention ˗ˏwords - 1k

˗ˏnotes - i truly don't know where this came from..it started as a small thought and i got a tad carried away with the idea + practically wrote this all in one sitting, it's not proofread, enjoy<3

you meet eren through mikasa, and from the moment she introduces you to him you can't help but think "how can someone like mikasa be friends with a guy like eren?" he comes off as outrageously self centred and cocky, and you've heard whispers about him from almost every corner of campus. he's loud, obnoxiously so, and it seems like it's practically impossible for him to attend all his lectures unless prompted by some outside force (namely mikasa or armin, or the occasional threat of expulsion). 

he reminds you—odd though it may seem—of tinkerbell. it's almost like clockwork, the way that at every party he attends he always finds some excuse to have everyone's eyes on him. you don't notice it at first, too caught up in the whirlwind of socialising with new people—shots keep getting past to you, tall guys (one with a buzzcut and another with what appears to be a pinkish mullet, although it's hard to tell in the dim lighting) who claim to be friends with mikasa crowding around you, laughing and joking with you like you've known them for years, a dark haired girl fussing around you, and loudly asking if you'd want to get food after this. but as you assimilate to your surroundings, getting more and more comfortable with this group of people you've found yourself in—you soon learn that the tall guys' names are connie and jean, respectively—you begin to watch eren, in those brief moments before he's called everyone's attention, and it's hard to put your finger on what look he has written on his face, but it makes you feel as though you're watching something that wasn't meant to be seen. like seeing an actor talking with a co-star just off stage, hidden almost fully behind the curtain, and watching their face transform when they set foot on stage. it's as if eren's mask slips down, just long enough for you to get a look at the face underneath, before he's pulling it back on and yelling at the crowd—daring himself to down what's left in his vodka bottle and perform as many front flips in the garden as he can before he throws up.

it's not long before eren notices you watching him. one night at a party—hosted by some guy named reiner—you realise, as jean presses a glass of water into your hand, that eren was nowhere to be found. your eyes scan the tightly packed kitchen, looking for that mop of dark hair, but find nothing. you excuse yourself and manage to squeeze into the living room, although it is considerably less cramped, there is still no sign of eren. your eyebrows furrow, and you're about to turn back to where you came from, when a cool hand grabs your wrist and pulls you towards a door you hadn't even noticed. it leads into a surprisingly spacious bathroom, and as your eyes scan the room you realise with a start that the bathroom door has just been closed—leaving you with an odd ringing in your ears. the silence is almost deafening, and you notice dimly that the door has been locked as well, a small ‘click’ echoing in your ears. you turn towards your wrist, and your eyes land on the hand that rests there. it's still gripping you, and you find that you aren't surprised by the voice that brings you out of your daze.

“I've noticed you watching me, you know.” eren says.

your cheeks heat, and you feel that all too familiar eruption of butterflies in your stomach. worry clouds your mind, the possibility that you've ruined your newly made friendships has you gnawing at your cheeks. you're about to speak, to defend yourself in some way, explain your actions, when erens voice interrupts your thoughts again.

“i like it.” 

your eyes snap up to his. temporarily forgetting your anxieties, your hands fly upwards, coming to rest at the back of eren’s head. your fingers thread through his hair and without warning his lips are on yours. your eyes widen, erens hands are now gripping your waist, his tongue runs across your lower lip, and you feel him bite it gently. but before you have a chance for your brain to catch up with his actions, eren pushes himself away from you, as if your touch burns him.  

you tilt your head questioningly, your hands dropping limply to your sides. he's now stood as far from you as he can, his knees hitting the edge of the bath as he staggers backwards. there's something about his stance that makes you want to reach out, and although you can't see his eyes, you're almost sure that the glimmer of want you glimpsed a few seconds ago is still there.

“ere—” you start. the sound of your voice seems to stir eren from his thoughts, and just as fast as he vanished from your arms, he suddenly reappears in front of you.

his mouth opens and closes multiple times, the words seem to disappear from his tongue each time he goes to speak. you wonder what storm is brewing inside his head, and you want nothing more than to let him spill it onto you, as though you are the land that was made to handle such a heavy downpour.

when he says nothing, you move to thread your hands behind his head once again. he lets you, and slowly he brings his forehead down to yours. you stand still, unsure of what to do—unsure more so of the confusing sequence of actions that led you to this moment. 

the two of you stand this way—foreheads together, your arms around eren's neck and his hands gripping your waist tightly—for what seems like hours. a sharp knock on the door breaks you apart, eren tears himself from your grasp, and you can do nothing but watch silently as he unlocks the door and disappears from your view without so much as a word. your cheeks flush as someone drunkenly stumbles into the bathroom—the source of the knock, you assume—a knowing look in their eyes as you flee from the bathroom, your mind swirling with questions and your heart fluttering wildly.

[mossmotif]

@twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

these tags!!! thank u for opening my mind

you finally hand in your paper and leave the class only to find satoru standing out there waiting for you by the door. his face lights up when he sees you but your brain is so drained that you can hardly muster up anything at the sight of him. thankfully (obviously) it doesn't offend him as he crowds into your space before you're even able to catch your breath.

"so? how'd it go? did you remember everything we went over? what did the bonus question end up being? was it something from the chapter she hadn't assigned yet like i thought?" he bombards you without a second thought, overwhelmingly energetic and inquisitive. a part of you heats up at his curiousness, it's obvious that he took this class last year, some of the other students ogle at him as the two of you walk, the professor greets him briefly when she catches sight of him from the window of the door.

you used to feel a little embarrassed about this. gojo satoru: a year below you, completely ahead of you in your shared academic goals, and your tutor. now, with a week of sleep lost to you forever and your brain fried to bits, it just feels like—

"satoru," you hush him gently. "what are you doing here?"

"i wanted to see how you did," he answers obviously. "i waited."

you try not to falter but fail, sputtering through your groggy brain and trying to keep up with his honesty. "didn't you also have an exam today?"

"i finished it early," he says.

of course.

"are we going to the library?" satoru continues.

"no. my dorm is this way."

satoru smiles. "that's the first question you've answered so far." he moves even further into your space, grin widening by the second. "come on, don't leave me hanging. just because the exam is finished doesn't mean i can't grace you with my wise guidance."

"satoru," you sigh exasperatdly.

"yes," he answers. his eyes are bright, his skin is stupidly smooth, he isn't wearing a hat even though he should be, which is why the tips of his stupid ears are red. and, god so are his lips. his lips, they're—for fucks sake is he wearing tinted gloss? you don't even think you remembered to put on chapstick this morning.

"i ended up using all my time, but—" you pause, another long sigh, as if you're trying to push out all the stress from you. "—i think it went well. smoothly, even."

"did—"

"satoru." this is the third time you've used his name. the third time he seems to have blushed against the cold of the air. "i'm tired. but, i'd like to thank you for everything another time."

"brunch?" he offers.

"oh." you look past him for a second. maybe the air really is colder than you thought. "yeah, brunch. brunch sounds nice."

"it'll be a date." he quickly closes the space between the two of you to kiss your cheek, hand ghosting your arm before stepping away, gloss transferring onto your skin. "when you get your exam back don't review it without me!" he leaves, literally abandoning you in a cloud of powdery snow.

with all this extra effort, you thought today would be the one time you leave a class without feeling overwhelmingly dumbfounded. but you were wrong, left there stupid and hot for the millionth time.

[abellyfulloffriends]

Storm Shelter

It's here! I apologize for the huge delay, this story went through two rewrites because I just wasn't happy with the tone! Regardless I am so happy to finally share it with you all!

***

I remember you told me thunderstorms made you uncomfortable, while it wasn’t the worst thing for you to handle, you definitely couldn’t sleep with one around. You had also told me you couldn’t think about anything else until you knew you were safe. Every storm since then, you came to me or called me so that you could find that feeling.

Tonight, you didn’t.

It was abnormally cold for early spring, the open bedside window letting in a cold draft causing the curtains to flap in the wind. It didn’t feel right not having you here while the storm raged outside. Normally, when a storm rolled through, you would sit in my lap, or cuddle yourself to my chest. I would read to you softly to have you focus on something else.

Originally, I would have waited a little longer for you, but the storm became violent. The lashing rain sounded like rocks against the roof, and water began soaking the windowsill. Figuring closing the window would help, I stand from my chair.

I stare out the window to the street below. The storm is getting worse; the rain has completely overtaken the window, almost looking underwater. The rainwater flows through the wind, lashing at the side of the building. My shoulders are tense as the storm continues to rage.

A sudden flash of light nearly blinds me, combined with the deafening shriek of a lightning bolt searing a large crack in the sky. I grab my chest, startled. I hear you scream from the other side of the wall. Immediately after everything goes dark as the power fails. I gather myself quickly and hastily force the window shut. I turn and call out your name, attempting to hide the fact the storm is getting to me as well. Over the rumbling of thunder, I faintly hear you shout something. It’s coming from down the hall.

Under the nightstand, I retrieve my emergency lantern.

I need to find you.

***

Your scream seemed to have come from the far end of the place. I check the laundry room first, gently knocking on the door. I don’t get a response, but I decide to keep checking. You thankfully aren’t in any of the machines. You don’t seem to be in the side closet either.

Turning my search to the bathroom, I pull the shower curtains aside and look through the top cabinets. Being so small, you tend to hide in dark corners to shield yourself. After searching one side of the room, more thunder crashes outside, bright lights glowing through the foggy glass. I hear you whimper close by. I announce myself softly.

I notice the cabinet door under the sink is ajar. I tap it with my fingers and peer inside. There I finally find you, your knees up against your chest, and your hands covering your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, and you sob softly. Kneeling, I set the lantern next to me. The light gets your attention.

You hesitantly look up and lock eyes with me, then look away. Attempting to reassure you, I smile lightly, “Hey, it’s me, I’m here now.”

You mumble an apology, hugging your knees tighter. I hold out my hand, palm up. You pause before placing one of your hands into my fingers. You let out a shaky breath and begin to speak a little clearer. You apologize again, expressing regret. You had thought you could have handled it alone this time. You said having to admit to a bad call was tough on you.

I didn’t agree at all.

“It wasn’t a bad decision, and you don’t have to feel ashamed for it.” I move my hand further into the cabinet, “May I?” You begin unfolding yourself and grabbing onto me. I wipe your tears with my thumb.

“Do you want to go back to my room and I can read to you?” You nestle your face into my hand and nod.

***

I set you and the lantern on my nightstand, I pick up a bottle of water from the closet and sit down on the edge of the bed. At this point the storm has started to move out of the area, the thunder growing more distant and less frequent. I take a swing of the water, you seem to look in my direction and look away when I finish swallowing.

I set down the water and motion to the stack of books, figuring you’d want me to read to you. You shake your head. “No?" You shuffle your feet, hands clasped in front of you. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You gesture to my midsection. I look down and back up, slightly confused, “What are you suggesting?” You look off to the side, rubbing your arms. “Do you want to cuddle?” You look at me directly and begin to say something, but turn away again.

Then I get the memo.

“So,” I flash a toothy grin and slowly pat my stomach. “You want me to eat you?” You lock eyes with me, and smile shyly.

Every now and then you'd let me do this, something I had first suggested years ago, and ever since you knew it was safe, you always took the opportunity. “I hope you’re ready, but first-” I lean in close, whispering to you, "I just want a small taste." I drag my tongue over your face.

Your heart starts to flutter. Excited, you hold out your arms above your head. I reach down and cup you in my hands, your small body fitting snugly in my hands. I gently lift you from the nightstand, bringing you up to eye level, blowing a little air over you as I sigh. You wiggle in my grasp, barely containing yourself. I lick my lips and part them, rolling out and dropping my tongue, warm breath cascading over you. My open mouth is a clear view right down to the back of my throat.

Gingerly, you place one hand on my tongue, then the other. Your hands feel cold on the warm muscle. You exclaim how soft it is, then start rubbing your hands over my taste buds. I lift your body as you pull yourself in, extending my tongue under your torso, and releasing my grip around you, grasping you with only a single hand. I hold your lower half with my fingers as I tilt my head back. You slide in a little more.

I try not to be too greedy with you, but you don’t seem to want to wait as you attempt to squirm deeper. I lift you to my palate and let go of your legs, maneuvering my tongue under your feet. I tilt my head back and drop my tongue, letting you slide down, the thick saliva squelching as you slip. I open my throat and swallow with a resounding wet glrk, downing you like a shot. I take my hand and place it over my neck, feeling the small bulge travel past my sternum. I take a sigh as I level my head. Your trip down doesn't take long, my gullet works like a water slide, and you soon reach a stopping point. Your weight shifts as you reach your destination, squeezing through and dropping into my stomach.

You take a moment to gather yourself, running your hands through the folds of the fleshy walls, my belly growling in response. A smile creeps across your face. You attempt to find purchase to steady yourself but it’s too slick. You end up conceding and letting my belly cradle you, sinking further as the sounds of my heartbeat quicken. I slowly lay myself down, careful not to jostle you in there. Pulling the covers over me, I reach over and turn off the lantern. The storm is barely audible off in the distance. I begin massaging my stomach.

My stomach descends on you as I press down, gurgles reverberating around you. Your eyes feel heavy after tonight’s excitement, and the rhythmic breathing and heartbeat, accompanied by the occasional noise from my belly, have made you feel sleepy. You yawn lightly, stretching yourself out across the tight chamber. My belly relaxes and forms snuggly around you. You start to doze as you lay inside my stomach.

You know you’re safe, tucked away where nothing can hurt you, and you forget about the storm, everything around you feels like my presence, the feeling of isolation you felt curled up under the bathroom sink is gone, I’m the only thing on your mind now.

I place both hands protectively over you. Feeling your movements slow as you fall asleep, I close my eyes and focus on feeling fullness and weight in my stomach. I sigh deeply and relax.

“Sweet dreams.”

[ooachilliaoo]

First Kiss

“So, I fooled you, did I?” he asked, the low timbre of his voice sending pleasant shivers through her entire body. “Good to know.”

She knew what was going to happen a moment before it did.

She’d been waiting for it for weeks. In fact, for the last few days, as their flirting had seemingly ratcheted up several notches, she was quite certain that she’d never wanted anything more in her life than for her fellow Grey Warden to kiss her.

Maybe that was why she remained utterly paralysed as he closed the distance between them.

Last week, she might have literally thrown herself into his arms, but then last week she’d only wanted him to kiss her. Now it was her deepest, most secret desire. Now it meant something. Something big.

Maker, she couldn’t even breathe.

His lips were soft as they met hers. Tentative, as it if maybe it meant as much to him as it did to her. Now, she found that she couldn’t help but breathe it all in. His scent, his taste, the feel of his lips on hers…

It was too much. Too much sensation. She couldn’t process it, and yet, when he began to pull away, she couldn’t help but kiss him back, recapturing his lips to prolong the feeling for a long as possible.

He responded in kind. Suddenly, what had been tentative, and sweet, and unsure, became harsh, and deep, and passionate.

Pushing her against the nearest tree, he kissed her as if he’d devour her, as if something had broken loose inside him, as it had inside her, and now neither of them could do anything but drown in each other.  A state of affairs that she didn’t take any issue with at all. She was just glad that he’d asked to speak to her alone, and that they’d walked a fair way away from camp to have this particular ‘conversation’.

She was fairly sure there wasn’t a spare inch of space between them, yet she buried her fingers in his hair anyway, intent on pulling him closer. She felt as if she were liquid fire in his arms. Not knowing what she needed, just that it was more. More of this feeling, more of his kiss, more of him.

All of him.

Read the Rest on AO3

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month 2024 - Sandwich

thank you @youngroyals-events! my first contribution to wille's month. xx

Wille groans loudly and shakes his head. “No, no, I said no tomato. No tomato. She doesn’t like tomatoes… Yes, cucumber is fine… No, your website clearly lists at least three other types without tomatoes… Well, make them without tomatoes, then!” 

Simon watches amusedly as his husband paces back and forth across the living room, a few times nearly walking straight into the coffee table, too distracted by the argument he’s having over the phone. 

“Felice, this event is so important,” he rambles as he walks, likely beginning to wear a track in the carpet. “I thought you were a professional! What’s so hard about making sandwiches without tomatoes?” 

Feeling the need to save their poor friend from Wille’s wrath, Simon stands carefully and moves into Wille’s path. He only jumps slightly as Simon wraps his free arm around Wille’s waist to stop him. Muffled through the speaker, he can hear Felice’s calming tone. Thankfully, she’s endured a few of Wille’s rampages over this and knew not to take it personally. Today, the topic is finger sandwiches; though both she and Simon know that’s not really what it’s about. 

“Darling, it’s okay,” he whispers into the soft fabric of Wille’s shirt, then presses a soft kiss to his neck. 

Wille sighs and relaxes into Simon’s arms a bit, turning so they’re facing each other. Their eyes meet and a small, tired smile spreads on Wille’s lips. He mumbles an apology into the phone and hangs up.

“She’ll probably won’t even eat the sandwiches, much less remember the party." 

From Simon’s arms, a small coo arises and both men look down at their daughter. She stares up at them with wide, happy eyes and makes another loud gurgle sound, then laughs up at them.

“See, even she agrees,” Simon teases, brushing at the fine hair on her head. 

Wille sighs again and drops his head to rest against Simon’s, wrapping his arms around both of them, so their darling baby is sandwiched between them, in a little bubble of love. 

“I just want it to be perfect,” Wille whispers, gazing down into her wide eyes. “She deserves the perfect birthday.” 

Simon nods and nuzzles his head into the crook of Wille’s neck, humming at his warmth. Though still a few weeks out, something about planning their daughter’s first birthday party had made Wille more stressed than usual. Simon thought he might know why, had been privy to a bad birthday or two. So, he curls closer to his husband and makes a note to send Felice a big bouquet later.

“It will be perfect, baby,” he says. “You’re doing a great job. We’re all happy and healthy and together. That’s what matters. Sandwiches or no sandwiches.”

[emo-trash101]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a skipp x male reader where, yk how he plays like his little ukulele (guitar?) Maybe just reader and skipp having a cute moment of him playing reader something sappy and cute and reader falling even more head over heals for him, PLZ FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IS YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE OR ANYTHING❤

I WOULD LOVE TO WRITE THIS, also just for everyone's knowledge, Zeddyzi confirmed that Skipp plays a mandolin (I'm not sure if that's really changed) but I'm going to be sticking with that. I also made it a one shot, so just let me know if you want headcannons instead!

When Words Fail, Music Speaks

Skipp x m! Reader

Pronouns: Second person, male implied

Word count: 679

Tw: Too much cuteness, betting???

Late nights weren't exactly a you thing, but with all the stress if possibly not having enough money to feed everyone along with your own personal quarrels of having a huge crush on one of your closest friends, you don't particularly have a choice. However, that doesn't mean you necessarily mind. Looking at the stars and moon late at night when there's nothing else to bother you is very serene.

On the other hand, no matter how many times you try to think about literally anything else, your mind always wanders back to Skipp. With his kind eyes and caring heart, it's honestly hard to dislike him, but you got the short end of the stick. You don't just like him, you like him, which is almost a completely different problem.

"Hey (name)..." You hear from behind you, and you almost go flying like a feral cat. You turn around to see who just approached you and it's no one other than Skipp. "Oh! Hey Skipp!" You say, trying to mask your nervousness with excitement (it's obviously not working).

Before you really even know it, Skipp is sitting by you conversing with you like every time he speaks he doesn't make your heart race. "So, what's been going on with you?" He asks, looking at you with that almost sickeningly sweet face you've learned to love. "W-what do you mean?" You ask, almost completely about to panic and just run away towards the moon so you would never have to answer his question.

"I'm just a bit worried about you, you've honestly been acting a bit strange" He says almost defeatedly. Suddenly you feel a pang in your heart. Did I really make him worry about me that much? you think to yourself fear and anxiety plaguing your emotions. "But you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He adds on, which makes you realize how long you've essentially been sitting in silence for. "Oh no! It's just that I'm worried we haven't been making enough money...y'know?" You almost whisper shout, almost lying. It's not exactly that it isn't part of the truth, but it's not exactly it either.

"Thats okay! I worry about that too." He says, smiling at you so kindly. That smile that makes you feel like you could either vomit or die, or both. You look back at him, your face probably having a stupid lovesick look plastered on it. For once you are genuinely grateful that the moon has horrible illumination. "Is that why you're awake this late?" He asks, and before you even know it, you're nodding in agreement, silently hoping he'll offer to give you a hug or some other sweet form of affection to "help you sleep".

After you nod, he just looks at you, almost like he's studying your face like one would study an art piece. "Well...I can play you something on my mandolin if you'd like." He says, pulling him mandolin seemingly out of nowhere, but honestly, you could care less about the laws of physics currently, you just wish he would keep looking at you like that every single day.

"Yeah, I'd like that." You say smiling softly. He quickly lifts it up to himself and starts plucking the strings slowly. As he plays the mandolin the whole world feels as though it stops. The stars seem to shine brighter, the moon feels fuller, and you and him feel so much more awkwardly closer.

Before really anyone could stop it, your head is resting on his shoulder, and you're fast asleep. He glances down at you, a smile slowly making its way onto his face. He could worry tomorrow about making money or talking to you about your obvious feelings for eachother, but right now you're passed out on his shoulder.

Sure, tomorrow morning Vinnie and Stone will wake up first, and Vinnie will owe Stone extra food for having guessed that y'all would eventually fall asleep together, but that's for tomorrow. Tonight, you are a night person who happens to love listening to the mandolin.

This was so delightful to write, and I listened to so many songs played on the mandolin just to figure out how to write it 😭 Anyways for those who care, this is the song I honestly pictured Skipp playing

Have a lovely day y'all!

[ambrozians]

you don’t know my name

jean grey/ororo munroe, rated: G, 6k, soulmate au

a random encounter in the subway leaves a deeper impression on jean than she realized, and she has the string to prove it.

filling the red string of fate and jean/ororo prompts for @x-femslash friday <3

[crosshairlovebot]

turning pages (crosshair!reading headcanon)

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n)

warnings: n/a. it’s just fluff bc i love soft crosshair.

i just couldn’t get the image of crosshair reading out of my head. so this is very self-indulgent. i got VERY carried away with the drabble, it ended up being like 2k words but i’m only posting the second half. i’ll post the extended version if that’s something people would be interested in! let me know!

when his brothers are overwhelming or irritating him, he likes to go off alone, find a secret corner, and read. 

it started when he was a cadet, being forced to read by his instructors as a way to cool off when he got too frustrated during training exercises.

but he ended up enjoying it, finding solace in the solitude of reading.

tech liked to read too, but whilst tech prefers nonfiction, crosshair reads fiction -- mostly mysteries or thrillers. 

he downloads them onto his datapad so he can read them on particularly long missions and travels through hyperspace on the marauder. 

he had to ask tech for help in setting up the books on his datapad, and when tech questioned him further, he evaded answering.

reading is something that he likes to do alone. 

it’s a solitary activity for him that he’s not particularly keen on sharing with anyone.

when he reads on the marauder, he’ll chew on a toothpick and read chapters to pass the time, or calm down after a disagreement with hunter. 

he doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s reading.

when crosshair is undisturbed, he can really get engrossed in the book. it allows him to forget everything that’s going on for a moment, and re-centre himself.

he prefers silence, but since it’s often hard to find with his brothers around, he’ll settle for the ambience of the ship and his brother’s low chatter -- as long as they’re not too loud.

he’ll get annoyed if wrecker is being too loud because he can’t concentrate on the words.

he’ll grumble and lock himself away in the fresher just to get a moment alone with his book, the walls softening his brother’s booming voice more than the openness of his bunk.

he’ll often be forced out when wrecker inevitably knocks on the door an hour later complaining that he needs to use the privy. 

crosshair will hole up in there as long as he can, just to punish wrecker for being noisy earlier.

does wrecker ever learn?

no.

but if you disturb crosshair, well...

“Hey.”

Crosshair flinched and looked up to see you, brow creasing further as he attempted to shield his datapad with his arm. “What do you want?” he seethed, he felt his face heating up, annoyed and a little embarrassed that he was interrupted and caught reading.

But you were undeterred by his tone, and instead nodded at the poorly hidden datapad. “Is the book good?”

Crosshair scowled at you, moving the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. No one had ever asked, so he wasn’t sure why you were. “Why do you care?”

His defensiveness rolled off you and you only shrugged. “I’m looking for recommendations. I need something to do in my downtime.”

His frown deepened as he studied your expression. You had been with them for almost half a cycle, and over that time, he’d grown used to your inquisitive nature. At first, he didn’t know what to make of it, but over time he realised that that’s just who you were, and your questions and conversations were because you enjoyed their company. And over the past months, he’d grown fond of you; sharing amused looks when Tech and Wrecker bickered and exchanging remarks over the comms on missions. He considered you not just a colleague, but a friend.

But reading was something personal to him. It was his and his alone. He had to share everything with his brothers, and there was hardly a moment or space that was truly his own. Except when he was reading. Then, he was unreachable. His brothers knew this, and he knew that you knew it too. So why were you asking?

Why were you trying to reach him?

He tore himself away from your gaze and looked down, pulling out his datapad again and opening up the screen. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

“Thanks, Crosshair,” he heard the smile in your voice before your footsteps move away. He raises his eyes to watch you leave, stopping as Hunter pulls you over to his spot at the computer to ask you about a report.

Curious.

Several days later, after the squad was deferred from their initial return to Kamino and instead rerouted with another mission, meaning that they’d been stuck on the Marauder for several days in hyperspace. Though everyone was feeling pretty cagey having been in such close quarters for longer than they planned, it had given Crosshair the opportunity to finish the book without many interruptions.

He’d been wanting to talk to you; tell you about it, but he didn’t know how to. It was such a small thing, yet it was big to him.

On his way to the ‘fresher, he watched you push back the curtain Echo had installed on your bunk to give you a bit of extra privacy amongst five men, and jump down from your top rack. You smiled at him when you landed and as Crosshair approached, he took the opportunity to rip the bandage off and tell you.

“It was good,” he said stiffly as he brushed past you.

You stopped and turned to him. “The book?”

His hand was already on the ‘fresher’s door panel, ready to escape your warm gaze, but he stopped. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and hummed. “You’ll like it.”

Then he stepped inside the fresher and locked the door. He took in a breath and ran a hand over his face, wishing the heat in his cheeks would disappear. Crosshair looked in the mirror and rubbed at the centre of his chest, wondering what the feeling was that nestled there and why he didn’t hate it.

When the squad finally made it to Kamino almost a week later, Crosshair sat in their barracks, in his self-secluded corner bunk, and was cleaning his rifle after a training evaluation. He’d scored perfectly, of course, and his subdued happiness was felt by everyone in the squad, including you.

You arrived at the barracks to let the boys know that the final day’s meal service was ending in half an hour, as they’d all forgotten as usual. Everyone except Crosshair – who had already eaten on the way back from his evaluation – ran out to grab something before it closed. You stood at the door with an amused expression on your face, which he returned before continuing to clean his weapon.

He heard your footsteps fully enter the barracks and come closer. That feeling blooms in his chest again, but he elects to ignore it. “What is it?”

“I finished the book.”

He looked up to see you leaning on one of the crates that acted as a makeshift half-wall. You had a smile on your face that looked like it wanted to stretch further, but you were holding it back. Like you didn’t want to scare him with your excitement. He felt that knot in his sternum pull.

He pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “And?”

“You were right. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

His stomach flipped over itself, and he forced himself to hide how glad he is that you enjoyed his recommendation, realising now that he was scared that you wouldn’t.

Perhaps a small part of him correlated the book with himself – if you didn’t like the book then you didn’t like him, or you wouldn’t want to know him. But you did, so maybe you liked him, or could like more parts of him than the ones he’d already revealed to you. The most personal parts of himself.

“I’m not often wrong,” he smirked.

The grin you’d been holding back erupted and your whole face and posture lifted. Crosshair felt his whole body go warm.

“Do you have any other recommendations?”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, surprised and taken aback that you want to read more of what he likes. He watches your expression, searching for any insincerity. But your smile is earnest and eager and that knot in his chest tugs again, harder this time, and that warm feeling returns and unfurls.  

He places the toothpick back in his mouth and reaches under his pillow for his datapad. For the first time, he didn’t mind sharing his solitary act of reading. But only with you.

this is the first time i’ve written something bad batch related, so i hope it was okay and you enjoyed! let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more soft crosshair <3

tags: @mrs-grumpysniper​

[bacarasbabe]

Hiiiiiiii, so happy! Can I ask about Savage + 2 ☆ { putting } a hand over their mouth to be quiet, from the smut prompts? Only if it’s something you’d find interesting!

Ohmygod talk about another amazing request 😩 I had so many ideas for this one too. So you get two fics 💕 Idk what it is but I've really been in the mood for more Savage recently. Thank you for the request and I hope you like what I wrote!

5 Sentence Fic Requests

The gasp you cry is punched from your gut, escaping before you’re able to gain control of your body once more.

It echoes down the hall, painting the smooth walls in the sounds of your staccatoed breaths while simultaneously giving away the topic of your private conversation, to anyone who overhears, with the man who’s currently pressed flush to your core.

Savage stills momentarily, pinning you to the same traitorous wall with his hips and kisses your swollen lips, a request to be quiet, before he thrusts resume.

Again, you’re unable to hold back the cry that erupts from your chest, so Savage resorts to replacing his mouth with the palm of his hand, gently yet firmly covering the lower half of your face.

“Come on my cock, little one, then I’ll take you back to my chambers where you can be as loud as you want.”

From your knees, the height difference between the two of you is greatly pronounced.

Savage towers over you, caging you underneath and between his legs as you work his leaking cock with your kiss-swollen lips and spit slicked hands.

He looks desperate, golden eyes half lidded, knees bent as if he was about to collapse to the floor.

You suck the bead of precum from the head of his cock and Savage keens loudly.

He cuts his cry off, smothering his mouth with his own hand in an attempt to control himself.

[onmyo-jin]

Idr if I've posted about this fic when I started it, but it's complete now!

Can I interest you in some competence prn heihuasang casino au?

[general-gt]

Behold, a fic brought to you by an enby who has not slept enough!

[roe-and-memory]

Cal headcanons maybe??? :3333

ANON, WE’RE BEST FRIENDS NOW. THANK YOU

cal is my boy, my son, my shining star, my silly, and many more.. allow us to fucking ruin his life (the favourite character treatment, if you will)

i hope u enjoy these 💥🔥

- hes deaf! this is my favourite hc ever i came up with it myself. hes Deaf and uses hearing aids - this was caused by the crash his parents died in (as he was in the vehicle with them if it wasnt obvious)

- he was 13 when his parents died

- he grew up watching his uncle race. he was a STAPLE in the dinoco pit box and when he was 11 or 12 he was strips crew chief for a race (strip won it too)

- strip taught him how to drive in one of the fields at their house - he mowed a track around it with a tractor, made cal get in the drivers seat, and told him to just Drive. (he was taught using Lynda’s old derby car because as strip expected, the very traumatized 14 year old he put behind the wheel DID in fact crash into the corn stalks and strip had to chase after him and pull him out of the car)

- he is probably the most careful driver you will ever meet. its the trauma, dare i say, but the probability of him crashing is much less than the Other Two. bobby and lightning poke fun at him for being so careful behind the wheel because “he doesnt have fun”, and whenever he gets serious behind the wheel they both giggle and quietly make fun of him (its like when you turn on the light in the car and your dad yells at you, white knuckling the steering wheel staring straight ahead and u dont understand why its so serious)

- cal’s the oldest of the three as well, hes a little less than a year older than lightning, so they’d both be the same age for like a 4 month period, bobby is the youngest and gets relentlessly bullied for it.

- i dont think cal ever learnt extensive sign language after the accident. his aunt and uncle didnt know it, and they were cautious of the situation so they found ways to communicate that they could all understand - he only learnt it after meeting red, because he was curious, and it wasn’t that hard.. plus it was a bonus that he could say things to lmq and bobby that they didn’t understand

- hes the only member of the trio with a consistent brain cell. hes the Reason, but hes also silly as hell which puts him barely a brain cell level higher than his friends

- he doesnt trust other people driving him places, he will ALWAYS volunteer to drive

- cal has a lot of his old, early racing days/pre-racing days memories on one of those old, handheld film cameras. he records a lot of stuff on it when theyre all running around the infield being silly

- his silly ass is so socially awkward its AWFUL. hes great in front of cameras but as soon as someone normal asks him a question or starts a conversation hes like. erm. Um. sure? (it was not a yes or no question)

- adhd

- hearing issues also comes with auditory processing issues, he’ll ask someone to repeat themselves and then realize halfway through their repetition what they said and be like OH YEAH TOTALLY!

- after the accident he went through a phase of being Terrified that strip and lynda were trying to replace his parents. he acted out, he hated every minute of their care and affection for a while, and finally he couldnt handle Not telling them why he was acting the way he was. they were both forgiving of course, they told him they understood he was scared and this was all New and they would NEVER try to replace his parents. that Helped.

- cal is short for calamari, full name calamari weather's (roe)

- hes blonde! he and strip are both blonde - and people HAVE mistaken strip for his dad instead of his uncle, but in reality cal just looks a Lot like his mother (who was strips sister)

- adding onto above: cal being upset makes strip think of his Sister and it fucking tears him apart every time. that kid looks so much like his mother its awful.

- when he was finally old enough to drink, he won the race, got to hold the champagne bottle and pop it open but it was so horribly hot outside that he fainted while on top of the car in victory lane, fell off, shattered the champagne bottle and smelt like berries for almost a week because it WOULDNT GET OUT OF HIS HAIR. he scraped up his elbows and tore the back of his t-shirt but there was nothing worse than smelling like alcohol for six days.

- he has a baby face and its his worst enemy.

- when he was a kid and a teenager he was obsessed with picking up small animals he found in the forest behind strip and lyndas house, and hes GOOD AT IT TOO. he once brought in a whole opossum into the house shortly after the accident, totally out of it on pain medications, and told his aunt and uncle that he wanted to keep this cat he saved from the garbage can down the side of the house. they were more shocked he got outside? how did he even..?

- he also picked up a habit of eating random berries he found in the woods? hes regretted it on multiple occasions and lynda has continuously told him to stop, but what made him really stop was accidentally grabbing blueberries that just so happened to be surrounded by poison ivy. he had it up and down his arms and all over his hands for three weeks.

- boy loves bugs, every bug ever he could identify and pick up with no issue whatsoever

- he had a marine biology phase and still LOVES the aquarium

- escape artist essentially

THIS IS SO MANY thats enough for now.. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED i love him so much. i hope none of this comes off as me woobifying him because i will lose my mind 💀