#which I’m rlly looking forward to actually? I need to know what Else is out there and I think I’ll actually really enjoy this

[exopelagic]

I know the world is cruel because I finally wanna draw again and yet I am forced to pack :(

[4unnyr0se]

Hi love your writing!! I havent touched HQ in 3 years but Im starting to love old characters I use to fall in love with like Asahi, Oikawa, Bokuto etc,,, so as my first req, could you pls write fem! Reader x Bokuto fluff in HS?

Like Bokuto trying to court the reader. How would that go? And how did he finally ask us out?

Feel free to ignore this if you dont like the idea! Ty for ur time 🤍❤️🤍

❥ young love at fukurodani | kotaro bokuto

warnings: none that i can think of. this is pure fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 1.6k

okay so aaaa this didn't rlly follow the ask bc all he does is ask reader to tutor him and then cute stuff happens but i can make a hc of it probably tonight or tomorrow?? also i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so im very sorry if its horrible. i love u!

got a request? my asks are open!

Bokuto wasn’t one to get embarrassed that easily. Sure, he did embarrassing things but didn’t know they were embarrassing. They were part of his boyish charm, which people loved about him…right? Of course, they did. He was Kotaro Bokuto. He was Fukurodani’s ace, and the people loved him for it. So why, if he was so confident, did he get awkward and embarrassed around you, his pretty classmate?

Saying you were gorgeous was an understatement. He couldn’t find the right words to describe you to his friends, mainly Akaashi. “She’s just like, y’know? And I’m like, oh damn! She’s cute as fuck!” Boktuo would make various gestures with his hands as he and Akaashi sat on the steps leading to the gym, sipping cola from the vending machine. “What do I do, Akaashi? She’s so pretty, and I’m pretty too! The only problem is that everyone else in our year thinks so, too…do I even have a shot?”

Akaashi would offer him a pitiful smile, rubbing his back in assurance. “Well, isn’t she one of the smartest in our year?”

“Yeah, smart and pretty. She’s so fucking perfect, I wish you could see her.” he pouted.

“Well, the answer is simple,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Ask her for help with homework; god knows you need it.”

“Hey! I got a 41 on my chemistry test!” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi as the setter entered the gym. But he did have a point, like always. Bokuto decided then and there that he would ask you to tutor him tomorrow, no matter how anxious he was. Anxiety was for suckers anyway.

“Hey, wait up!” Bokuto ran after you as you exited your classroom, papers flying out of his messy bookbag that was riddled with stains from only God knows what. “I gotta ask you a question!”

You stopped walking and turned your heel, raising an eyebrow as the Fukurodani captain barreled towards you. “Hey, what’s up, Bokuto? How’s volleyball going? Are we headed to nationals?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip. God, even the way you held yourself was perfect. Were you an actual goddess, or was Bokuto just lovestruck?

Bokuto finally caught up to you, leaning against the hallway walls in an attempt to appear suave and put-together. His messy uniform didn’t help his cause, but he forgot to look neat today. And every day after that. “Uh, I was wondering if you understood what we were assigned in English yesterday? I don’t understand any of it to save my skin, hah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. “Did you get what our teacher was saying?”

“Yeah, it was really simple. Just basic grammar and syntax structures. Was it complicated for you?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I don’t really get it. Wanna tutor me at my house today? I can get you snacks!” he offered you a crooked smile, leaning forward so his golden eyes peered into yours. “C’mon, please? The coach will kick my ass if I don’t get my grades up, and I have a game next week! Pretty please?” he folded his hands in prayer, his bottom lip in a childish pout.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing him off the wall. Bokuto blushed at the sudden contact, noticing how neat you kept your fingernails compared to his own. Yours were neatly polished to perfection while he bit his nails almost constantly, and being a wing spiker didn’t come with having good-looking nails. 

“Where’s your house? Is it walking distance?” you let go of his hand, much to Bokuto’s dismay. 

“Yeah, it’s about five minutes from here. Wanna stop at a convenience store on the way? I’m really hungry.” he rubbed his stomach as you two walked out the nearest exit, your messenger bag dangling over your shoulder. 

“Only if you’re paying,” you joked, rubbing his shoulder. Bokuto could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Were you actually flirting with him, or were you just really touchy? Either way, it was a win in his book. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. Anything for a pretty girl like yo-” Bokuto stopped his sentence, smacking his hand over his mouth. “I-I mean, why wouldn’t I mind? I’m a captain, after all. It’s my job to provide for my teammates!”

“But I’m not on any sports teams. I’m not your teammate.” you deadpanned, 

“You know what I mean!” Bokuto whined, wiping his forehead of the sweat that was slowly starting to gather. “Damn, it’s a hot one today. Why won’t they let the guys wear shorts? Do they want us to die of heat stroke or something?”

“I honestly have no idea,” you sighed, walking under the shade of the convenience store roof. “Wait a minute,” you instructed, placing your messenger bag on the hot pavement. You shrugged off your school blazer and wrapped it around your waist tightly in an attempt to cool you off. You also rolled up the sleeves of your white blouse, loosening your collar. “Sorry, I’m just really warm. At least we get to wear skirts, right?” you offered him a lopsided smile.

Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest. “Uh, yeah, you girls are so lucky. Wearing skirts must feel awesome.”

“It’s awesome until you catch someone trying to look it up,” you mumbled in annoyance, hoisting your bag over your shoulders. 

“What the actual fuck? Who was it? I’ll murder them! I'll text Konoha too; he’ll definitely want in on it,” Bokuto clenched his fists together, walking into the store with you. “I’m sorry that happened to you, honestly.

You shrugged your shoulder and rummaged through the ice cream pin, choosing a passionfruit-flavored ice bar. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I barely know you, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t protect you from jerks like that guy,” Bokuto angrily shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the tile. He fished about 400 yen out of his pocket and handed it to the cashier, ushering you out of the shop as quickly as possible. 

“What was that for?” you asked, unwrapping the popsicle. 

“I didn’t like how he looked at you, that’s all.” Bokuto huffed. He made grabby motions for your bookbag, which you handed to him with a confused look on your features. “Let me carry that, please. You’re too pretty to carry heavy stuff around like that all day.”

You paused your walk and stared at Bokuto, blushing softly. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Bokuto slowly nodded and gave you a crooked smile, blushing in turn. “Yeah, I really do. I was afraid to tell you before, but now I’m all fired up. I wanna protect you from creeps, y’know?”

You popped the ice treat out of your mouth and stepped forward, smiling softly. “We barely know each other, and you want to keep me safe? We haven’t even hung out once.”

“We’re heading to my house right now, aren’t we?” Bokuto shrugged, his blush not fading. 

You chuckled and took another step forward, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his own. “You know, I always thought you were kind of cute. In the athletic kind of way, I suppose.”

Bokuto dropped the bags he held onto the hot concrete beneath you, praying they wouldn’t roll down the hill you were standing on. You two were in a remote location, and the tension was thick. “You think I’m cute?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyelids dropping halfway. 

“Mhm,” you purred, your popsicle dripping from the intense heat. “Super cute.”

“Fuck,” Bokuto’s hands hovered above your waist, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “Uh, is it okay if I kiss you? Please, cutie?” he quietly pleaded, your lips basically touching at this point. 

You smiled and nodded, holding your melting popsicle behind your back. “Mhm, it’s okay.”

Bokuto smiled as his lips interlocked with yours for a minute, savoring the sweet passionfruit flavor that coated them. His hands squeezed your waist childishly, never wanting this moment between the two of you to end. This kiss was exactly how he dreamed it would be, soft and perfect. Just like you.

You pulled away after a bit and giggled, your popsicle having since fallen onto the heated pavement. Your sticky hands cupped his face, the pads of your thumbs running over his defined cheekbones. “You’re a good kisser,” you pecked his forehead bravely. “Like, a really good kisser.”

“Same to you, cutie,” his hands left your waist, choosing to instead secure your wrists. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. So. Fucking. Long.”

 A chuckle escaped your lips as your hands fell to your waist again, intertwining your fingers with Bokuto’s. You had never notified it before, but he was much bigger than you. It made you feel safe and secure. Protected. “We should probably get to your house to study, shouldn’t we?” 

“Aw, I was having so much fun kissing you on the sidewalk!” Bokuto pretended to whine, kicking a loose pebble that was in his way. He easily picked up the bags with his spare hand and tossed them over his broad shoulder. 

“Tell you what,” you squeezed his hand. “For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Hell yeah, it does!” Bokuto kissed you on the cheek in excitement. He practically skipped to his house with you in tow, excited for what the rest of the day would have in store.

[moonstruckme]

Omg omg omg I love you writing so so so much!

I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders (or can be just Sirius x reader) where Sirius goes to a tattoo shop and gets a new tattoo and the reader just gets a piercing.

Just rlly cute fluff with Siri holding her hand and babying her for the rest of the day, even tho his procedure (that’s a scary word) is more painful than hers

Thank you love

XoXo

Thank you sweetheart!!

cw: mention of needle

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 607 words

Sirius’ fingers are curled around the inside of your thigh while he drives with the other hand. He hasn’t let go of you for probably a couple of hours now, since you’d first gone into the tattoo shop. At first he’d let you pretend it was for him, holding your hand while the artist inked up the side of his ribs, but it became clear pretty soon after that his touch was your security blanket. You haven’t relinquished it since. 

“Feeling good, sunshine?” he asks, pulling up in front of your place. 

He’s being a little extra gentle with you, which doesn’t seem strictly fair. He’d sat through his whole session with little coddling, didn’t even complain about your bruising hold on his hand when it was your turn. Your eyes had watered something fierce as the needle went through your septum, and Sirius’ eyebrows had pulled together distressfully. He’d brought your hand to his lips, murmuring a You got it onto your knuckles. Meanwhile, his side had to be throbbing the entire time. 

“Mhm,” you reply, brightly as you can. 

“Yeah?” He turns toward you, smiling prettily. “You look good. It suits you, gorgeous.” 

He reaches for your face, and you flinch instinctively away, backing yourself up against the passenger door. Sirius’ eyebrows rise. 

“Sorry,” you laugh at yourself. “Sorry, I just got scared you were gonna touch it.” 

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a deadpan look. “I wasn’t,” he says. “Fuck, babe, give me a little credit. I’ve had piercings before. I just want a kiss.” 

He leans forward again, and again, you dodge. 

“Actually,” you squeak, “I’d feel a lot better if nothing got near my nose. For like, the next several days.” 

He blinks. “You serious?”

“No, that’s you,” you remind him. 

“Funny.” He narrows his eyes at you. “You’re really not going to let me kiss you for the next several days?” 

You shrink a bit under his gaze, the unflinching intensity of it overwhelming. He’s doing it on purpose, you know. But you won’t fold. You know how to get him back. 

You let the pressure that’s stayed stuck in the back of your throat grow, your eyes watering. “I don’t want it to hurt worse,” you say pitifully. 

Predictably, Sirius melts like ice cream on a summer day. “Aw, it still hurts, baby?” He reaches for your face, then, checking himself, detours to your shoulder. His thumb rubs at your clavicle. “Maybe we need to do a saline wash already, it could take out some of the sting.” 

You worry at your lip. You can see Sirius itching to pull it from between your teeth, but he restrains himself, settling for giving you a stern look until you stop. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit. 

“I can do it for you,” he offers easily. “Oi, don’t look at me like that. I’m not a fucking newbie. I know what I’m doing.” 

“After,” you say tentatively, “can we put on a movie and lay for a while?” 

He grins, slipping his fingers from between your thighs to take your hand in his. He smooches your palm. “I’ve got nothing else going on today, sunshine. And I got us that ice cream for a reason.” 

You perk up, joy sparking to life in your chest. “We have ice cream?” 

“Oh, so that can come close to your face but I can’t?” 

“I’ll be very careful with my spoon,” you tell him gravely. 

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes, pulling your arm closer to smudge a kiss onto the inside of your wrist. “I can improvise.”

[winchesternova-k]

as has been the case so so many times, mcr managed to get me out of a panic spiral

[sparkysparklightning]

Okay listen

Yes this is the “longass post” I mentioned in my previous Tratie HoO post hgjkfsh I decided to publish it and see what y’alls think!

Anyway, I saw this post, like...a week ago?? And all of a sudden, everything related to the HoO series that I’ve held back just came charging full-force. So I’m here to grace y’alls with my ideas and thoughts about HoO.

Honestly, if I talked abt everything that went off-kilter in that series, we’d be here all day, so I’ll just stick to the mere basic point that was also the basis of my HoO conceptual rewrite idea, and that point is...

Percabeth shouldn’t have been a part of the Seven.

Yeah yeah, half of you guys must be throwing stones at me, the other half is probably nodding in agreement. But seriously, Percabeth already had their time to shine--they had an entire five hecking books, they ( and their characterizations ) definitely do not need another five more, yeesh! I love Percy and all, but pls, five more books in which his and Annabeth’s and their relationship’s character were diminished? Yeah, no thanks. 

I love Percabeth, but in HoO, they became so...bland??? Idk how to properly explain it, but I didn’t like what happened to their character arcs at all lmaoo

But then, I got an idea: what if, instead of Percabeth, it was TRATIE who was a part of the Seven, instead? 

Now this idea was inspired both from the post mentioned above plus another post that talked abt Tratie as a part of the Seven in a bit more detail, which I cannot find no matter how many times I scoured the rr-crit tag ( smh, if anyone else knows of this post, pls lmk and link it, I’m sorry 😭 )

And yeah, I know a lot of ppl have been hopping on the ‘Nico & Reyna as part of the Seven’ train when it comes to making HoO rewrites, but see, hear me out, just think about the potential of Travis Stoll and Katie Gardner--two children of minor gods--getting their spotlight in a series of their own ( plus more indirect spotlight on the minor gods in question ) plus a slowburn ( kinda ) relationship?? Heck, I already have some ideas for this, that I’ll jot down below the cut along with some conceptual ideas about the rewrite. If any of y’alls end up reading this whole post, can you...just, idk, lmk whether it’s a solid plan and if I should actually take it forward and plan on writing it? Bc I’m being rlly indecisive rn ahaha 😅

So. Tratie instead of Percabeth. Let’s take a closer look at the potential:

Honestly, I hate to admit it, but Percabeth didn’t do much to the plot as a whole, so it wouldn’t make much of a difference if they’re taken out. Though there are some things they did to move the plot forward, although little, and that’s what I’ll touch on before I discuss Tratie in general:

( oh yeah, disclaimer: I read the HoO series about five years ago?? I’m trying ( key word: trying lmao ) to reread the series currently, but it’s just not sticking lmfao. Probably the main reason why I wanna rewrite it so badly, other than the two posts that boosted my inspo )

--> THE ATHENA PARTHENOS: Annabeth went on a solo quest in MoA to track down the Athena Parthenos bc it was crucial to sealing the rift between Greek and Roman. BUT, any other demigod could go on that same quest instead of her. Like Piper, whose mother had told her that she was essential to sealing the rift but never ended up doing anything for it bc RR just...flopped idk; or someone like Leo who has similar abilities as Annabeth and would be able to outsmart Arachne in a similar fashion as well; or even Reyna could come earlier than she did in the series and work with the Seven or some of them to track down the statue? Idk, there are lots of options, tbh, there’s honestly not that much relevance to Annabeth being the daughter of Athena so she has to track down the Athena Parthenos. I mean, sure there was the Arachne ordeal, but other than that, nothing major rlly happens

Percy, himself, didn’t rlly...do much for the entire series, other than fight. I mean, there were some minor aspects of HoO where his powers or relations to other characters vibed well, so we’ll check those out:

--> KANSAS: In MoA, Jason and Percy fought each other bc they were forced to. That could easily happen even without Percy. Instead, of Percy, it could be Hazel and Jason fighting each other due to their connections as the Big Three children being taken advantage of. It could be sort of like a mirage of Thalia and Percy’s fight back in TTC. Plus, again, it gives way for more bonding and discussion after between two other characters that never got much interaction time together in canon

--> KYM AND POLYBOTES: okay this is the scene that takes place in BoO where Percy and Jason face off against Kym and Polybotes. But, Percy...does literally nothing here other than get poisoned lmao. It was Jason who did the heavy-lifting bc Percy got a t a d bit arrogant, thinking he was invincible underwater. So honestly, you could take out Percy and replace him with another member of the Seven (who would seem reasonable, in the context, so no Piper or Annabeth or Leo, etc bc none of them can survive even a minute under the water and doesn’t have a way like Jason to breathe). Tbvh, I can see Frank and Jason go together to face Kym and Polybotes. Frank can shapeshift into a sea-creature while Jason can use his ventus vacuum thingie, so it all works out, and nothing too drastic is changed! 

There’s probably a couple more of little scenes where Percabeth was mostly significant in some way to the series, but let’s be very honest...there weren’t a lot of them. So long story short: if you want to, you can easily take out Percy and Annabeth from the series and replace them with another pair and it wouldn’t be the end of the world, lmao.

Now onto Tratie ideas in relation to if they were a part of the Seven instead. Here are some bullet-points of some ideas that I thought of:

It could be a lovely parallel, where when Jason woke up, all he could remember was Thalia, so when Travis wakes up, all he remembers is Connor, his younger brother. I think it would be nice bc it shows that not everything has to be romantically coded like how Percy only remembered Annabeth in canon. It would emphasize Travis and Connor’s sibling bond more so, and I can just imagine Connor giving Travis reuniting noogies and trying not to burst into tears in MoA, and Travis whispers something like “you’re here” and the floodgates open, and it’s just crying and hugging and the like 😭��

Katie is a daughter of Demeter, so she would have a somewhat connection with the Earth aka Gaea, hence there is now a plausible reason why Gaea would want to spill her blood to rise. Also, when the time comes to defeat her, instead of charm-speaking her to sleep or whatnot, Katie could be a significant crux to the primordial’s defeat bc her powers tie in with the land/earth, so she could use her powers to forcibly push Gaea back into the earth.

 Instead of them going to Tartarus, they end up going to Cupid (so some other pair will fall into Tartarus instead), and instead of a stupid forced outing, Cupid takes one look at them, senses their underlying emotional tension and goes “oh boy, yeah, you two have a lot to talk about” and actually (tries to) help guide the two into confessing the feelings they’d hidden, instead of being a little shit like in canon. Plus I just adore the idea of Travis calling Katie “flower” after they get together, and Katie calling him “key” not just bc he steals stuff but also bc he’s like the key to her heart and all that sappy bs, I literally love them sm 🥺 literally such wonderful nickname opportunities that have a deeper meaning

Travis and Jason might have a subtle rivalry, but unlike Percy and Jason’s weird ‘I’m stronger than you’ thing, it could be bc Jason felt a bit jealous of how everyone was looking for Travis, including his sister, while no one pulled much of an effort to look for him? It’d give an opportunity for them to talk things out and end up growing closer after talking

Juno/Hera saw Travis’s need, his desire, to redeem the Hermes name and as a result, used that fire to kickstart her plan by plopping him in Camp Jupiter while Jason got switched to CHB. Hence there is now a reasonable concept as to why the switch happened, because honestly, the whole Percy-Jason switch didn’t make all that sense bc Jason, yes I can sort of understand why he got switched, but Percy?? There was literally no solid reason that was explained as to why he was chosen to be switched lmao. But with Travis, Juno/Hera takes pity on him and uses this as an opportunity for him to bring glory to the Hermes name after the Titan War

I have a ton more ideas for the rewrite as a whole tbvh. Stuff relating to ways Gaea could actually be defeated, more on Octavian’s backstory and why he hates the Greeks so much, and other tiny scenes between the demigods that could bring about more characterization and details to their arcs.

The only problem is...with the way this is going in my head, I think things might end up diverging more or less from canon as the series progresses? Like there will obv be the canon scenes, but there might also be non-canon scenes that might change the series plot a little bit?? And idk how many of y’alls will appreciate that lmao ghjksfgh but I have started writing it. It’s a super long process lmfao, so idk when I’ll publish it (probably on Ao3, if I do), but I just wanted to let y’alls know bc a lot of you guys liked my first post abt this and I saw your lovely tags and it made me super happy and honestly, those tags are the reason why I even started writing this in the first place! So thank you guys so so much for the positive feedback!

[curiosity-killed]

Lang Qianqiu deserves more love goddammit: a post, unfortunately

This brought to you by the wonderful @veliseraptor & @/yuer on Twitter but also mostly out of spite and the fact that it’s preventing me from writing a very dumb poke-the-bear post abt the entire weird social media culture around The Minors

As always ✨SPOILERS!! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE✨

So first off: when I hit the scene where lqq confronts xl and screams “I will never be like you” I sat up in bed, did a little shimmy of delight, and hissed “fuck yes” at like 2 AM so. Now you have a preview of wtf this train wreck will be

1 ) lqq is a good character

We don’t get a ton of time with lqq because tgcf is 87 side characters running across stage with The Most Interesting Concept constantly one-upping each other before vanishing. But what we do get is, I think, enough to make a pretty compelling story: Lang Qianqiu is a kind and generous prince who is also the sole survivor of the bloody massacre of his entire family, committed by the people dearest to him (both in his belief that Gusohi Fangxin did it and in the reality of An Le’s involvement), who goes on to peacefully lead his fractious nation into a peaceful reign before he ascends as a powerful enough (aka beloved and worshipped enough) god to be ranked among the top heavenly generals. That’s like. Pretty fucking classic protagonist vibes right there.

And, as usual with mxtx’s characters, we get a lot more than this lovely little backstory. In his interactions in canon, lqq is capable of great grief and anger; he is willing to sacrifice himself if it means avenging his murdered family; and he simultaneously holds both great hatred and great respect for his old teacher. And, of course, he winds up raising and taking care of his enemy’s son which shows a remarkable depth of compassion and emotional messiness that I find terribly compelling. He struggles with a simplistic view of justice that is supported by lies told to “protect” him and that is uprooted by the truth and forces him to try to make sense of the world without the guardrails that others installed around him (looking at you mister fangxin sir).

Also I’m stealing my own tweets bc I’m Right but:

*pulls up single barstool to lqq is a good character table* I think it’s interesting & Says Things abt the continued relationship btwn lqq & xl that lqq *didn’t* recognize xl, implying that he left fangxin’s mask in place even when he went to kill him

Like here is the man who killed his family & best friend, who left him abandoned in bloodshed on his 17th bday—& here is also the man who saved his life, who taught him, who lqq looked up to & wanted to be like

Even when lqq *does* recognize xl, he still has so much respect for him paired with that hatred that it’s honestly rlly tragic? Like man. There’s so much grief in lqq’s repeated demands for a duel & insisting it’s fine if xl kills him as long as he doesn’t hold back

*pats lqq pompom* this bb is so sad. And so much more like his teacher than either of them seem to realize or necessarily want

Despite being a pretty minor character, lqq gets a lot of complexity and nuance! Look at this child trying to be grown up while desperately turning to his old master for guidance and “the truth”! Look at him! Be sad!!

2 ) lqq is an excellent parallel to xl

Okay stealing my own tweet again don’t look at me I yell the same shit everywhere

Xl didn’t want lqq to become like him (self-sacrificing, vengeful, alone) but lqq not only became alone, chasing vengeance, & willing to sacrifice himself for revenge—he also became kind, open-minded, & remorseful!! & he still clearly respects xl @ novel end 🙃🙃

We all know hc’s “they’re not very alike at all” and yeah sure baby go support your man but narratively, there’s a lot of importance given to cycles, parallels, and foils in mxtx’s writing and most explicitly (compared to mdzs, haven’t read svss) in tgcf. For example, *gestures at beefleaf, gestures at Xianle Trio vs Wuyogn Crew, gestures at Xie Lian & Jun Wu’s whole uh. Deal.* And while I’d argue xl and lqq are part of a triumvirate rather than a pair, we’re not including mister three-face in this conversation so just looking at xl and lqq:

Both adored and sheltered crown princes

Both taught by a guoshi who was seeking to prevent the repetition of their own tragedies and in their efforts, lied/omitted information and failed to protect their charge from tragedy

Both were betrayed* by their closest friends

Both are the last living members of their respective royal families

Both caught the interest of supernatural beings from a young age

Etc etc I’m getting v bored and distracted writing this so moving on

Most importantly to me, we have their betrayal by a very close and adored mentor and how they react. The confrontation I mention at the start of this shitshow is really imo one of the most important scenes in the novel because it a) illustrates the differences in xl and Jun Wu and b) sort of gives you a preview of how xl ultimately wins

So a) Jun Wu and Xie Lian both take a talented, marked-for ascension young prince under their wing. Jun Wu sees himself in the boy and obsesses over shaping him into Jun Wu’s own image in the belief that this will make him the perfect heir. Jun Wu pushes his chosen heir into situations where Xie Lian is repeatedly harmed in an effort to show that the common people are fickle and cruel and don’t deserve his compassion and care.

Meanwhile, Xie Lian is reluctantly roped into mentoring his prince due to his inability to stand aside when he feels he could do something to prevent hurt or injustice befalling another (simultaneously his great strength and great weakness! God I love him). Xie Lian tries to teach his student to believe in and care for the common people and not to sacrifice himself (see: flashback convo re:taking the force of the sword strike into his own body).

When Xie Lian refuses to bend in the shape Jun Wu demands, Jun Wu bashes his head into the wall. When Lang Qianqiu cries “I will never be like you!”, Xie Lian laughs and says “Good!”.

B) this of course feeds directly into foreshadowing! Like Lang Qianqiu’s bold words, xl ultimately refuses to become like his mentor and remains defiant even when it would stop him from being hurt. Xl beats lqq and says so what if I tricked you, so what if I lied, I still won. Naturally, xl beats Jun Wu not through standard swordplay but by using a trick he learned while forced to busk and wander the earth alone and unlucky for centuries.

…okay so I have fully forgotten what I was actually saying here! Anyway!

Like Xie Lian, Lang Qianqiu spends a time consumed with the need for vengeance, hunting his enemy and rejecting the heavens. And like Xie Lian, he winds up caring for his enemy’s “son” and trying to both comfort him and maintain what’s left of Qi Rong’s life force despite having previously been hellbent on destroying him—bc he sees the impact it has on another person. In the end, he even gives a gift to Xie Lian—his mentor, his role model, and the one who killed his father—that was once given to him as a symbol of unexpected kindness. Sound familiar?

But, importantly, and contradictory to what I have been yelling abt but whatever it’s 12:30 am, Lang Qianqiu is not a direct mirror of Xie Lian but a closing of a vital loop in the story. Lqq is very similar to xl (I will die on this hill!! Only I won’t bc I’m stronger than y’all and will keep swinging these pots and pans) but bc xl tries to do better and keep lqq from suffering the way xl has, lqq is able to have a gentler and more optimistic path forward. He’s proof that even a small act of kindness or even kindness to only one person still matters and has a ripple effect that can’t be seen when you’re in the middle of it—a thread started with xl giving the coral pearl to Lang Ying and closed with Lang Qianqiu returning the pearl to Xie Lian.

So I have no idea if any of this is coherent or compelling but I meant to be asleep two hours ago and the points are:

A) Lang Qianqiu is good actually

B) parallels!!!

C) look ive already started another wip about Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian and I didn’t want this but no one else wrote it so now I have to so pls just accept this as a warning

*sort of air quotes around this for Xie Lian bc frankly Mu Qing was right & Xie Lian kicked feng xin out BUT on the other hand, it was experienced as a betrayal and we also again have all of Jun Wu’s shit so it evens out

[lilysdaydreams]

The Artist and The Musician

→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don’t think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Fluff.

→ Words: 5.6k

→ Request:  Hey! It’s me again lmao I was curious maybe like sykunno or raes little sister (like 2 or 3 years younger) meets the group and her and corpse just click. How would either of them react to them hearing the news that their little sis is dating corpse and like they’ve moved in together and everything idk I thought it’d be cute💛

→ Warnings: Swearing.

→ Authors Note: Its been a hard couple of weeks and im really sorry that this took so long to be done but depression rlly hit me and I could barely move myself. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please comment some words of encouragement or feedback 💛

→  if you have some spare change , consider buying me a coffee.

You sighed as you finally dropped the last box in your new room, stretching to get rid of the pains in your back. Grabbing your phone, you moved over to Sykkunos room, knocking before sticking your head in.

"You want subway?" you asked when he looked up from the computer. He nodded with a quick smile, and as you closed the door behind you, you could hear him talking to the stream, letting them know that it was just his sister. Quickly ordering on Ubereats, you slumped on the sofa, closing your eyes and resting for a bit.

You had decided to move in with Sykkuno a month ago, the same week you'd decided to drop out of college. It wasn't something your parents were happy with, but after seeing how big your art and business had gotten, they had let you drop out. You'd dropped out and moved to LA, moving into an apartment with Sykkuno since he had to leave the OTV house. Sykkuno had moved in a week earlier which was why his room and computer was all set up. You'd only moved in today, spending a few weeks at home with your parents before leaving for LA. Stretching, you grabbed your phone, checking how long it would be until the food came, and then clicking on Instagram. Your most recent post was of this morning, a photo of you sitting on top of half the boxes in your room, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Sykkuno had taken it for you, the whole process taking 10 minutes cuz you made him take it at 45 different angles. Scrolling through the comments, you liked a few, replying to the ones by your best friends.

@selinaissss: "HOW DARE YOU LOOK THIS PERFECT AT 8 IN THE MORNING????"

→ @junefarie: i look like a racoon dont u dare

@onlyalyssa: "we need a house tour"

→ @junefarie: bitch I dont even have a bed yet

You grabbed the subway order when the bell rang, saying a quick thank you to the delivery man. You left yours on the table, and went to Sykkunos room, yelling "Sykkuno catch!" before throwing it at him, giggling as he leapt forward from his chair to catch it. Closing the door softly behind you, you jumped onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, grabbing your sketchbook and pencils from your backpack and setting them on your lap. It was time to wind down a bit.

~

It was a week later and you had unpacked fully, now focusing more on creating new pieces of art for a shop update. You were also working on some designs specifically for shirts and hoodies. Sykkuno found you in front of your computer, blanket wrapped around you and glasses perched on your nose as you emailed the manufacturer you were working with for the hoodies.

"Un, y/n?" he said hesitantly knocking on the door. You spun around in your chair, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's up?"

He walked in, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and you got your water from the table, taking a sip as you wait for him to talk.

"I um- You know how I- I play Among Us right?" he asked, scratching his neck.

You hummed in response, urging him on with a nod. Sykkuno was almost never this nervous around you. Most of the time, you guys talked normally, joking and teasing each other. For him to be stuttering around you, he must have been extremely nervous.

"Well, you know Rae right? She um, she asked me to make a lobby," he said, standing up and pacing now. You furrowed your brows, confused as to where this was going.

He was explaining what a lobby was (which what the fuck, you watched his streams, of course you knew what a lobby was, why was he explaining that) when you cut him off, getting up and grabbing his shoulders to stop him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, holding his shoulders with both your hands.

He sighed and slumped into you, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.

"Rae asked me to make a lobby and it's the first time I've ever made one and I'm really nervous about it. I've already invited people, but um I was wondering if you wanted to join as well? I- It would help me to have you there." he muttered, the words muffled as he spoke into your shoulder.

"Me?" you asked, a little shocked because you had never played among us before.

He nodded against your shoulder.

"Um sure!" you said, wrapping your arms around his middle, "It'll be fun!"

"And hey," you added on when he didn't say anything after that, "I can meet all your friends as well!"

He finally lifted his head a little, smiling as he muttered out a quick "Thanks y/n."

"However," you added, jumping back onto your seat and wiggling your eyebrows at him. "You have to buy me pizza for tonight's dinner."

He chuckled, grabbing his phone and already mutterng the order to himself as he opened up the ubereats app and walked out of the room.

You turned back to the laptop humming a tune under your breath. From interactions like this, most people would probably assume that you were older but the truth was that Sykkuno was 5 years older than you. Your roles were reversed and you were probably more protective over him than anyone else. Once in high school a girl had called him cute and asked him for his number only to write it on the bathroom walls. After the first three prank calls, you'd taken the phone from him yelling at anyone who called that if they called again, that you'd personally track them down and shove a dildo up their ass.

Both of you had always been close, but with the amount of bullying and teasing he got in high school, you'd got even closer, eventually becoming his best friend in a way. Seeing Sykkuno grow as a person, get new friends who were genuinely nice and kind made you the happiest person alive. When Sykkuno had first started streaming you'd been worried, scared that people online would say something mean. When he had first started streaming with other streamers and then met Lily and all his other friends, you had been anxious, worrying that they might only be putting up a friendly facade. You were also the happiest though when he grew even closer to them, when he smiled more, laughed more, talked more.

You had yet to meet or talk to any of his friends, mostly because you'd been in college, and the pandemic had made it harder. Maybe it was finally time.

~

The day came and you sat in your room, once again a blanket wrapped around you, glasses perched on your nose as you accepted the discord invite Sykkuno sent you.

"DO I GO IN THE CHAT THINGY?" you yelled to Sykkuno, hearing a "YES" before clicking on the voice chat.

You mumbled a "hello", wondering if your mic was on.

"Hey, yeah I can hear you y/n."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you logged into the game, smiling as you heard sykkuno introduce you to his chat. "Hi everyone," you said, feeling a bit weird only talking to a screen. You rubbed your hands, a little nervous to be doing this.

Just then someone else joined and before you could even speak another three people joined as well, all of them yelling hello as they joined.

"He- Hey guys, how's everyone doing?" started sykkuno.

"Im doing great oh my god, guess what guys, I'm-" started Rae, cutting herself off. "wait, whos um "ms snores a lot"?

You were a bit confused for a second, furrowing you eyebrows for a second before realising what had happened.

"SYKKUNO YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCK?" you yelled, staring at the name underneath the voice channel that you now realised belonged to you. You could hear Sykkunos laughter from the other room but you just spluttered indignantly. He was the one who had set up everything on your computer yesterday because technology was something that you rarely messed around with.

"Sykkunooo" you whined, when he kept laughing, "How the fuck do I change it now?"

"Um wait, sykkuno who is this?" asked Rae, the other three echoing her. You glanced at the names and from the voices figured out that it was Rae, Toast, Sean and Corpse in the lobby.

"Hey okay, so guys this is my sister, her names y/n and we recently moved in together, so I asked her to be in the lobby because... um.." he said stuttering at the end to find a reason.

"Because he wanted to embarrass me apparently!" you exclaimed, giving him a way out.

"Oh god, um - you can change it in settings, at the bottom near where your name is."

"Ahhh," you said finding it and then simply typing in your art business name.

"Its nice to meet everyone by the way," you started. "I've been watching your videos for ages so it almost fels like I already know you"

Raes voice started in your ears and you winced at the volume befoe turning it down a bit.

"I would love to say that Sykkuno has told us a lot about you, but the truth is that he keeps a lot of secrets and I didnt even know he had a sister, I AM SO SHOCKED RIGHT NOW"

You gasped. "Sykkuno what the fuck, you didn't even tell Rae?"

"You told me not to tell a lot of people!" he protested.

You heard someone saying "they're so different!' but you ignored it and kept talking.

"Yeah at the start! and on stream! I can't believe you never even said you had a sister." you spluttered out, followed by another gasp.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" you whispered dramatically.

"N-What no of course not!" he exclaimed, and you could also imagine how wide his eyes would have gotten.

You giggled before telling him that you were only joking.

"Um since sykkuno is embarrassed of me," you said jokingly, "I'll just tell you myself."

"I'm like five years younger than sykkuno, I'm a June baby, I do art, my star sign is cancer, I'm 5'4, I recently moved in with sykkuno, and my favourite colour is purple!"

"Oh is that why your username is junefarie? Because you were born in June?" asked Sean.

Before you could say yes, someone else cut in.

"Wait, junefarie?" asked corpse, "like the artist?"

Your eyes widened as you realised that he knew you. Sure you had quite a few followers, but you never expected any of Sykkunos friends to know you from there.

"Um yeah," you said letting out a shocked laugh, "I didnt expect anyone here to know about me."

"Dude, your art is fire!" he exclaimed, voice louder now. "I was honestly thinking of buying a piece soon, I've followed you for ages!"

"Wait, I wanna see as well." whined Rae, "Ima look you up, are you on Instagram?"

"Um," you said still shocked by the fact that somone this big knew you. "yeah I'm on instagram, its just junefarie." you said first replying to Rae, "Um corpse, thankyou so much! thats so nice of yo!"

"Um my art isn't that great yet," you chuckled, embarrassed by all the attention now. "I'm hoping to improve a lot more and I have a bunch of ideas for it as well. I'm hoping to work more now that I moved in with Sy."

"Oh my god, this is amazing," whispered Rae, Toast and Sean echoing her. You ducked your head even though no one could see you. Your cheeks were blazing hot and you pressed your hands to them to cool yourself down.

"Thankyou," you mumbled, not sure what to say.

Someone else entered the lobby, and said "hi" and you welcomed the source of distraction.

"Hi! I'm Sykkunos sister, y/n!" you said , wanting to move away from the topic of your art.

The reply of "sykkuno has a SISTER?" made everyone laugh, successfully moving the attention to Sykkuno and off your art. Finally Sykkuno started the game and you breathed as you lost yourself in the art of gaming.

"OH MY GOD!" yelled Rae as the game ended and everyone appeared in the lobby. "That was like amazing, Y/N I cant belive you pulled that off!"

She was talking about the last game where there was 50/50 between corpse and Sykkuno (because you refused to kill sykkuno when you were imposter) and you somehow managed to convince Sykkuno that it was Corpse.

"Honestly, neither can I!" you exclaimed back staring at your screen, eyes blurring the screen because of how tired you were.

"I can't believe Sykkuno," mumbled corpse. "I literally said I saw her vent and kill toast and Sykkuno was still like "hmmm, I don't think so."

Giggling at Sykkunos yell of "SHES MY SISTER" you yelled out a bye as everyone started leaving and then struggled to find a way to end the call.

"Wait, how do I end it," you muttered to yourself.

You jumped as Corpse talked, not expecting anyone to be there.

"You can see yoru name at the bottom left right? Its above that but a little to the right." he said chucling a little.

"Oh." you said, you cheeks heating up. You didnt know if it was because of him or because you were utterly useless with technology.

"Um thankyou," you said awkwardly.

"No problem."

You exited out of the call, a small smile at your lips.

Sykkunos friends were nice.

~

After the stream, your fanbase grew, and with it, the number of orders as well. For the next week, you were buried under orders, only leaving the house to go to the post office.

An Instagram post on @junefarie account: 

[ID: A photo of y/n and sykkuno standing in the middle of the living room, packages scattered everywhere. Y/n is hugging Sykkuno tight and Sykkuno is staring at the camera, a distressed look on his face.]

Caption: Thankyou so much for all my supporters and all the love shown to me. Sending out loads of orders and I cant wait for you gusy to get yours! Special thanks to @sykkuno for helping me send out orders. luv yu.

Comments: 

@Sykisacutie: best sibling duo!

@valkyrae: hope my order is in their as well.

→ I SCREAMED WHEN SY TOLD ME THAT WAS YOUR NAME.

@corpse_husband: sykkuno looks like he's accepted death.

→ @sykkuno: I would have welcomed death at that point

→ @corpse_husband @sykkuno: okay ill be honest, I would have welcomed death as well.

@ariesin: go best friend, go! we need to get together to paint soon !!

→ SOONNNNNN

~

You flopped onto your bed, every part of your body hurting. Carrying boxes filled with orders down the stairs had tired your whole body, which wasn't used to any exercise at all. That had taken practically the whole day and then you had to clean your room because the mess from the orders had barely left any room to move. You flung your hand to the side, grabbing your phone from the table and bringing it up to your face. The "1:02" was clearly visible on your screen and you unlocked the phone, heading to Twitter. Scrolling through your feed, you liked a few tweets from friends before gearing yourself up and moving to the messages. Ever since you'd played with Corpse, Sykkuno and everyone, you'd been getting a lot of messages. Most of them were just the streamers fans, asking you if you know them or telling you to take care of sykkuno. There were a few though that targeted you, telling you that your art sucked, that they didn't know why Corpse could like my art. You'd taken to deleting them before sleeping so that your inbox wouldn't get cluttered and you could still find any serious requests or messages from your followers. Therefore, you didn't really think anything of it when there was another message from someone with a Corpse icon and you clicked on it only to see the message and gasp, immediately sitting up in bed.

Corpse_Husband → Hey, I was wondering if I could work with you on something? I really love your art and was wanting to commission or collaborate for an album cover or some merch designs. Message me on this number cuz I barely see my dms.

Underneath was a number.

"Oh my god," you whispered, unsure as to what to do.

When you had decided to drop out of college, you had expected hard days. You had expected your normal orders and mostly just improving your art and marketing it more. You had expected long days and not much money in the bank account. You certainly had not expected the immense amount of orders you'd gotten. Along with that, the amount of love and support had taken you by surprise and you had spent the last night crying because of how much love you and your art were getting.

You had also not expected such a big opportunity just landing at your feet.

Quickly you clicked on the number, putting it in your contacts with the name Corpse and then writing a quick message.

"Hey I got your twitter dm! I've personally never done art for merch or album covers but I would love the opportunity!"

You bit your lip, confused as to whether that was enough before deciding it was fine and just sent it.

Your heart beat a little faster as you slumped back onto the bed.

~

@junefarie Instagram story:

[ID: A zoomed-in picture of a drawing, the only part that was visible was curly hair. The text read: "Working on something SO COOL"]

~

Your phone was ringing. Stuffing the rest of the pizza in your mouth, you swept your hand over the covers of your bed, trying to find it. With a muttered "aha", you grabbed it and swiped on the call before it ended. Pressing the phone to your ear, you mumbled a "hello", still chewing the pizza bite.

A low rapsy voice came out of the speaker, one that you definitely didn't expect. You choked on the pizza, coughing out pieces onto the bed.  Sure you guys had messaged each other a bit (you kinda had to because of the commission), but you hadn't expected him to call out of nowhere.

"Um I hope this isn't a bad time," he said when you didn't respond for a second. Of course, he didn't exactly know that hearing his voice so close to your ear had you frozen for a second.

"Um no," you replied, coughing slightly to clear your throat. "It's fine! What did you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, um I know you're already working on the commission and its looking great! I can't wait to work with the merch team to create something really cool with it, but um-" he broke off for a second sounding hesitant. "I really wanna get another commission done as well."

"Oh?" you said after a second when he didn't reply. "I'd be happy to do another one for you!"

"Uh yeah, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit late, You see I was wondering if it could be done before Christmas?"

You sucked in a breath as you counted the days in your mind.

"Hmm, it depends on how big it is tbh. There's still 2 weeks to go till Christmas so I could fit it in," you mumbled, biting your lip as you remembered the onslaught of orders you still had to send out.

"Well," he started and you smiled a little as the excitement crept into his voice. "You know that Sykkuno, Rae, Toast and me are called the 4 Amigops right? I kinda wanted a portrait of all 4 of us, in our um among us colors, and I basically wanted to print it out and send to each of them for Christmas."

"Aww, that sounds like such a good idea, I'm sure they'll all love it!" you smiled, thinking about how much Sykkuno would appreciate that.

"Uh thanks," he mumbled, "do you think you can get it done?"

"Sure!" you replied immediately. You did have a lot of orders, yes, but like, you could fit Corpse in. If you pulled a few all-nighters. "I'll send you the sketches soon okay?"

"Oh thank god, thankyu so much for this y/n, I really appreciate it. Youre one of my favourite artists and I'm really happy that I could finally commisison you after so long."

"So long?" you questioned. "Since when have you known about my art?"

There was a moment of silence and then "Um, around the time you still posted your sketches and stuff I guess?"

You furrowed your eyebrows thinking for a second before letting out a gasp.

"Corpse that was 4 years ago!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, oh my god, I cant believe you've seen those, I was so bad then!"

"No no, they were really good at that time as well! I was so shocked when Sykkuno told us you were his sister because like, I'd been following you for ages and I had absolutely no idea. You guys are like really different."

"Hah yah, Sykkunos so soft, and then there's me. An actual devil."

"Your usernames so different as well! I remember when I first saw a picture of you on your account and I was kind of shocked because based on the name junefarie, I was expecting someone very soft I guess but then you were literally the opposite and wearing actual devil horns."

"Oh god, that was one of the first few photos I posted of myself. that was on Halloween I think,", you took a deep breath still shocked that Corpse had known about you for that long,

"Yeah, I chose junefarie because...”

It was 2 hours later when Corpse said that he should probably be working on his music.

"Oh I'm so sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you,"

"Oh no, I um, I liked talking to you."

Your breath caught for a moment and you smiled like a lunatic at your Pokémon covered bedsheets.

"I liked talking to you as well," you whispered out, heart sinking a little as you realized the call would be ending soon.

"Um, do you, maybe want to stay on call? like I'll just be writing and we can just chill?" he asked and you felt like your prayers had been answered.

"yes" you said quickly, not giving him a chance to back out.

He chuckled, and you fell in love a little.

Just a little.

~

You continued like that, calling each other every few days, talking so much and then at times, not talking at all, simply content with each others company.

He had even started facetiming you, the first time with a mask and then the second without it. You hadn't made a big deal about it, but the first time you saw him, you could barely breathe.

There were five days left until Christmas when you got the idea.

You were entirely not subtle about it, because, well to be honest, there wasn't a subtle bone in your body.

"Hey Corpse, do you like surprises?" you had asked, in the middle of colouring Raes hair (her hair was the last thing left before you could finally print the goddamn thing)

"It depends," he had murmured after a second, voice sending shivers down your spine like every time. Now whether that was because of his voice or because of him, you weren't entirely sure.

"on what?" you prodded when he refused to answer.

"On whether its a good one or a bad one" he had huffed out.

You had hummed, waited for a second and then blurted out that next question because you did not have a cent of patience.

"So what are you doing at Christmas?"

"Sleeping, if I can manage it," he replied, his voice taking on a sardonic tone, eyes flicking to you on the screen. The only thing he could see though was the top of your head because you had your iPad on the bed and were laying over it as you drew.

"Not with that attitude you aren't," you replied right back, making a small smile appear across his face.

"Hmmm, okay!" you said when he didn't reply.

He looked back over, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening as he started to question you.

"Hey did you see the video I sent you?" you quickly asked distracting him from his question.

He would probably guess the surprise but that was okay. You only wanted to make a smile appear on his face. And honestly, for someone with anxiety, a small warning of a surprise was definitely needed.

~

It was Christmas day and you woke Sykkuno up at 6 in the morning with the promise that you'd buy him McDonald's. 30 minutes later, you were both in the car, yelling the lyrics to "All I want for Christmas" at the top of your lungs.

You had told sykkuno of your plan a few days ago and he had smiled at you with that stupid smile, agreeing with a small "alright."

You'd immediately realised that he knew. Even though you pretended otherwise, Sykkuno was the older one and the thing about older siblings was that they always knew.

They always knew.

So there you were, snacks loaded into your car, McDonald's fries practically everywhere, and a cake you had made in the backseat, on your way to Corpses house.

There was a lull in the music, and you were only 30 minutes away from his place, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when Sykkuno asked you a question.

"You like him right?" he murmured, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.

There was a moment of silence as you thought about what to say. Did you like Corpse? Of course, you liked Corpse! He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered and your heart beat faster than ever whenever he looked at you. Hell, that was through a screen, in real life, it would probably be even worse. So of course you liked him! The question was, did he like you back?

"Yeah," you answered Sykkuno, eyes straight on the road.

A second passed and then he smiled. "Good," he replied. and well. That was that. You sighed.

At least you had your brothers blessing.

~

Pulling into the apartment building, you breathed in, your heart beating a million times a second and the butterflies in your stomach had turned into snakes. Maybe, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. I mean, you expected Corpse to get the hint but what if he didn't? and what if he didn't want you to come? Maybe you were being too quick. After all, It'd only been a month since you'd met.

These thoughts plagued your mind as you trudged up the stairs, turning to Sykkuno as you reached the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," you whispered to him.

He looked at you, eyebrows high, "We just travelled two hours to get here. There's no way im going back without at least giving him the print."

"What if he doesn't want us to be here?" you hissed.

"Then we'll go away." he stated, "after we give him the print."

"But what if-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door opened and you both jumped, turning to face the person standing in the doorway.

You forced yourself to breathe as you finally saw him. It was him. Wearing a black beanie, half his hair spilling out the sides, stubble clear on his chin... it was him. At that moment, there was only one thought in your mind.

You were gonna marry this man.

"You suck at whispering," he said, and you huffed out a laugh, jumping onto him without even responding. You wrapped your arms around him, not letting go until Sykkuno cleared his throat from behind you.

You turned back immediately, grabbing the stuff in Sykkunos hands so he could greet Corpse too. As they awkwardly did their handshake/fistbump thing, you walked over to the couch behind them, putting down the print and the takeaway bags, and putting the cakebox down on the table.

You turned around to see them both standing there staring at you.

"Surprise?" you said when no one else spoke. That broke the ice a little and you grabbed the print from the couch thrusting it at Corpse.

"Open it. Open it. Open it." you mumbled, your heart beating fast as he carefully ripped the paper off. The smile that overtook his face made your heart immediately calm.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head further into the apartment, mumbling that he was going to put it in the room, eyes still on the print as he walked there.

"You smile is gonna blind me," muttered Sykkuno.

"Oh shut up."

~

A few hours later, you stood in the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into Corpses fridge. You had all chilled, eating cake and the takeout that you and sykkuno had bought, laughing every few minutes. It felt like you were all on an adrenaline rush. You had facetimed Rae and Toast, Rae shrieking when she realised where you guys were. Sykkuno had just fallen into a nap, still tired from being wakened up so early, you assumed.

You leaned against the kitchen bench, smiling as Corpse walked in.

"Thankyou." he said as he came to a stop next to you, matching your position.

"For what?" you mused, even though you had a good enough idea.

"For the print. For coming here. For making my Christmas, a much happier affair than it has been my whole life." he stated, chuckling at the last point.

You turned your head sideways, and you didn't know what it was, but something about his face made you spurn into action. You grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even say anything. It would be too cliche to say that fireworks erupted. And if you were being honest they didn't. Instead, it felt like everything was finally right. You fit perfectly in his arms as they wrapped themselves around you, and you smiled into the kiss as he lifted you up, making you sit at the counter. You twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with your left hand, taking a deep breath in as you both slowed down and pulled away.

"Well," he whispered, "that was unexpected."

You raised a single eyebrow. Honesty you'd done a lot for this relationship. You just drove for nearly 3 hours! If he wanted it to progress, he was gonna have to say it himself.

"But not unwelcome," he continued when you didn't speak. A moment passed, where you could see that he was psyching himself up to say something. Finally, with a heaving sigh, he whispered  "Darling, would you do me the honour of being called yours?"

You melted right there.

A nod was all he needed before he grabbed your lips with his again, both of you giggling when he accidentally hit the side of your mouth instead of the lips.

The sound of a picture being taken filled the air, making you spring apart and swing your heads over to the doorway, which had sykkuno leaning against it, his phone in his hand.

"Thank god. Rae and Toast bet that you wouldn't confess until after Christmas, so now they both owe me 20 bucks." he said, now fiddling on the phone. "Dont worry Corpse, I'll add a circle over your face or something."

Your mouth dropped open as you stared at your brother.

"You bet on my love life?" you scoffed, still shocked.

At his nod though, you swung off the bench, marching until you were eye to eye to him.

"I want half the winnings."

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the living room, jumping onto the sofa.

"C'mon, let's watch one more episode before heading back," he said and you jumped in next to him, patting the space next to you as Corpse came in behind you.

You grabbed Sykkunos hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you were grateful that he didn't make it such a big deal. Leaning your head on corpses shoulder, you smiled to yourself.

You'd have to leave in 30 minutes, to drive back to your parents and spend the rest of Christmas with them, leaving Corpse behind. And that made you a bit sad sure, but it couldn't overpower the feeling of pure happiness at being here. At giving him a happier Christmas. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Nothing could overpower this feeling of absolute happiness.

fin.

Corpse husband taglist:  @mythicalamphitrite @ramble-writes @atsumubabe @anxiouskat5646 @itssierramcquade @xaestheticalien @jotaroslightning @starstruckllamapuppy @gxldenskiez @shinyshimaagain @cavanana @fee-btheweeb (send an ask to be added!)

[poptod]

can u do a one shot that’s ahkmenrah x reader where u get kicked out of college bc ur mental health is rlly bad n u were missing a lot of days like just what he’d react n do bc I have been kicked out of college today n I can’t stop crying

notes: i’m so sorry! i’ve added a personal note at the end for you specifically, anon.

WC: 885

+

“It isn’t… necessary, is it?” He asked in the most gentle tone he could manage.

The two of you sat on the old, worn couch in the night guards break room, the contents of your backpack strewn out across the floor. Textbooks and loose, crumpled pages sat in disorganized piles at your feet.

“It is these days, if you don’t want to live in poverty the rest of your life,” you said through a wail.

You had great difficulty speaking through both your sobbing, which wracked your shoulders, and your sniffling that seemed endless.

“And I wouldn’t fucking be here if I just - got my shit together and fucking went to class.”

“My dear, if you went to those classes on bad days, I don’t think you would’ve retained anything anyway. It’s not your fault. You are dealing with a genuine illness.” He set his hand upon your heart, brushing away fat, crocodile tears. “You know, my brother never finished his schooling, either.”

“Your brother is a psychopath, Ahk.”

“Fair point. But you understand, right?” He asked softly, and his hand dropped to take your hand. “You said there is many people in your classes. I have found that students learn best in smaller classes, more attuned to the needs of the student instead of - of indoctrinating children into a job they can never be free of.”

“But everyone else can do it,” you wailed, digging your fingers into your hair.

“I wouldn’t be able to. Waking up at dawn? No thank you. I would’ve dropped out months ago if I were you, and I haven’t got any of your illness,” he said, and he removed your hands from your head, instead keeping them in his lap.

“That’s not true,” you mumbled.

“I’m afraid it is,” he chuckled.

“What am I going to do now?” You asked, finally meeting his eye with a red-rimmed gaze.

“Whatever you want to,” he said with a shrug. “I know you can go to the college -“

You tried not to laugh, but a smile broke across your face anyway.

“- again, try again when you’re older and wiser. There are an infinite number of ways to live. Surely college cannot be involved in all of them.”

“I guess…”

“You could.. run a bakery, or, uh… one of those tattoo places,” he suggested with a small smile. “Set up a bookshop and spend your days reading and talking to new people, or live off far away from these cities.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” you said quietly.

“That’s alright,” he said, a light blush filling his cheeks. “Something to always keep in mind, though, is that everything is subject to change. If you don’t like your life, you can go to another place, or -“

“That actually takes money.”

“It does?” He asked, raising a single brow.

You chuckled half-heartedly and said, “everything costs money these days.”

“Let’s not get into how preposterous your civilization is. The point is that if my world started in Egypt thousands of years ago, and now I sit here with you, touching a living being made thousands of years after I was….”

A strange look overtook his eyes as he reached forward, pulling you in by no more than a touch down your flushed cheek.

“… everything, good and bad, changes and ends. There are wondrous things in the world, yourself included,” he murmured as he scanned your hapless expression. “College is not one of them.”

You laughed, truly this time, your gaze falling to the floor before flickering back up to him.

“Am I going to be okay?” You asked, knowing full well he didn’t have the answer.

“If you keep love in your heart, you will find happiness in every place,” he said.

“Who said that?” You chuckled.

“I think it’s a… a paraphrase from a great magi from my times,” he said. “A man by the name of Imhotep. He wrote a great deal of poetry.”

“An Egyptian magician-poet, then,” you said with a giggle.

“And an architect. He built the first of the pyramids, and he was a physician as well as a priest, and a scribe. Do you want to know something funny?”

“What?” You asked, wiping away stray tears with your sleeve.

“He didn’t go to school, either. My people turned him into a God in their stories.”

“That was thousands of years ago.”

“Yes, but the human condition has never died,” he said, grinning. “Remember those ancient caves?”

You chuckled, “the one where it said, like, “this is really high” on the ceiling?”

“Exactly,” he said with a laugh.

A while ago, you showed him a meme on your phone detailing how ‘humans never change’. He loved it immensely, going by how much he referred to it.

“But you see, my dear? You will be alright,” he said, softer than ever to accommodate the small space left between you. “There are so many ways to live happily.”

“Yeah… maybe,” you mumbled

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, tilting your chin up to him with a single finger. He raised one brow, gazing down at you with an almost stern expression, though kindness always shone through those tiny facades. “Yes. There are many ways to be happy.”

“Yes, there is,” you chuckled. “Thank you, Ahk.”

“Of course, my love.”

my note to anon:

i dont know much, or really anything about your situation, but i do know what its like to feel like everything is crashing apart, so ill tell you what i needed to know at that point:

take a step back. like, a big step. you should focus on yourself, on taking care of yourself, on building yourself so that one day, you really can do all the things you want to do. sometimes you need to just take a break from the progress of the main video game in order to heal your character or get better armour, and the same is true for non-digital humans. please, please take time for yourself. build up your comforts but expose yourself to new things and please, do not isolate yourself. 

i had to be taken out of school too, because i missed too many days due to a physical illness of mine. so, i kind of get that overwhelming of feeling like you’re failing, but you’re not. this is nothing more than a setback. there is another railway, another journey, for you to join, and it will be perfect.

anyway, that’s just my advice, you dont have to listen to it. im truly sorry you had to go through that, it must be an unimaginable amount of stress, but you’ll be alright. i promise.

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Too Forward - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter three of “all bets are off”

So, uh, this is probably going to complicate your work relationship. 

warnings: smut, spencer reid is a dom in this universe, daddy is said like 3 times lol idk if that’s gonna be a theme in this series or a one time thing, kind of public sex (not rlly though it’s car sex), probably out of character but oh well

“Well, it’s an hour's drive back to the office. Y/n, Reid, you can go home for the night. Nice job, agents.”

Those were Hotch’s final words to you for the evening. You, glad to have an excuse to leave the awkward presence of your co-workers, happily obliged, scurried to your car. As you opened the driver’s side door you heard someone call your name.

“Uh, y/n!” It was Reid. Of course.

“You were kind of my ride here. Would you mind dropping me back at the office so I can get my car?” He smiled sheepishly.

Oh. Right. Duh. You had come here together, of course you’d be his ride back. “Yeah! Of course.” You grinned, the awkwardness you had so quickly tried to escape returning. “Hop in.” Once you were both situated in the car and you had begun to drive, you moved to turn on the radio.

“Hey, actually, I was wondering if we could talk.” Spencer reached out his hand to stop you. He was either way more comfortable with touching you now, or you were just starting to notice it more.

“Sure. What about?” You tapped your finger on the steering wheel nervously.

“Listen. I don’t wanna seem too forward but…” his voice trailed off a bit. Oh god. Where was this statement going? “You liked it.” He finished.

You cocked your head to the side, glancing at him. “Excuse me?” You held back a nervous laugh.

“You liked it when I kissed you.” He said it more confidently now, as if your response had validated his observations. You couldn’t respond. He wasn’t wrong, of course, but what was the purpose of him bringing it up in conversation? “When I um,” you felt a new warmth on your thigh. He was running his fingers up and down your exposed skin. What the fuck? “When I touched you.”

Just the way he said it made your breathing become labored. “I did?” You questioned, trying to use comedy to mask the increasing desire overtaking you.

“Oh come on y/n, don’t play dumb. You know as well as I do that you would’ve let me fuck you right there against the wall if we had had the time.”

You nearly slammed the breaks. Did he just say that? Were you dead? That had to be it. The mission had gone wrong. The unsub had drugged you and you were dead. That was the only explanation. “If I’m wrong, you can tell me,” Spencer continued, his hand ceasing its movements momentarily. A choice. He was giving you a choice.

“I-I’m not the only one who enjoyed myself. I could feel you through your pants.” You stared straight ahead, eyes on the road. Anywhere but on him. He must’ve taken your response as a decision, because his hand crept just a bit higher.

“I can’t deny that. Seeing you all dressed up like this? I mean, I’ve always known you were gorgeous, but… I guess you could say this,” he smoothed his fingers over the velvet of your dress. “Well, this sent me over the edge.”

Well. This was certainly out of character from the Spencer you had known all these years. You hadn’t even realized he was having these types of thoughts about you.

“So. What are you gonna do about it?” You questioned, gaining confidence.

“Pull over.” He said simply.

“What? Spence, we’re on the highway.”

“Pull over." He repeated.

You were a bit worried what would happen if you didn’t oblige. So you did. You pulled onto the shoulder of the abandoned highway, it was past midnight now after all, and stared at him.“Okay. Now what, genius?”

You barely registered the click of his seatbelt becoming undone before his lips were on yours. Forceful. Demanding. He wasn’t wasting any time. Apart from the initial shock, you began to respond to his touch quickly, fumbling to undo your own seatbelt as well. His lips moved down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck. His tongue swirled on the sensitive skin and your eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.” You mumbled, your head leaned back and rested on the glass of the driver’s sear door, allowing him easier access. He pulled away and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He only chuckled in response, his hand moving to pull down one of the straps of your dress. He tugged it down and then he was right back at it, his lips working at your collar bones, your newly exposed cleavage. “Are you gonna be a good girl?” He asked in a moment of pause, looking up at you with those hazel eyes. You nodded weakly. Embarrassed. “No, sweetheart, I want to hear you say it. Tell me that you’re going to be a good girl.” You bit your lip, considering your current situation. “Come on. Say it and I can give you what you want.” You glanced down to see his hand moving under your dress, his fingertips just barely brushing your inner thighs.

“I-I’ll be a good girl.” Your voice shook, but he seemed content with your words as his fingers began to press against your panties.

“So wet for me, too.” He husked, running fast circles around your clothed clit.

You couldn’t hold back your moans, a string of curses leaving your mouth. “Shh, baby, that’s not the type of language I wanna hear from you. You said you’d be good.”

What? He didn’t want you to curse? A power thing. Of course it was. He wanted to control not only your body, but everything else about you too.

“Aren’t you gonna apologize?” He questioned, his pace slowing down.

“I-I’m sorry Spencer.” You rasped out. “I won’t do it again.”

He licked his lips, eyes scanning you. “You’re so pretty like this. So weak, so powerless. Do you want my fingers inside of you?”

You were shaking now, craving stimulation, craving more of his touch. “Yes. Please. Please, I need it.” You were barely concerned with how pathetic you sounded at this point. He didn’t even reply, only pushed your panties to the side and pressed a finger against your entrance. You legs instinctively spread a bit wider, inviting him in.

“I knew at the bar that you were needy, but I didn’t realize just how much.”

Before you could retort, he was sliding a finger inside of you, curling it to find your g-spot. It felt even better than you were expecting. Maybe because you had been thinking about this moment for hours, ever since he had first placed his lips on yours. It was disgusting, you knew, pulled over on the side of the road, letting your colleague finger you after work like some kind of shitty porno. He eased a second finger inside of you, not too difficult considering how wet you were, and began to pump them in and out of you. He leaned back over, pulling down your bra strap this time, and taking your nipple into his mouth, his tongue teasing you ever so slightly.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed again without thinking. You immediately clamped your mouth shut. “Oh f- no wait, I’m s-sorry.” You began, but he was already pulling his hand and mouth away. You cried out, feeling empty.

“You’re making me think that we should put that dirty little mouth to use, hm?” He questioned, holding up his two fingers, still slick with your own wetness, to your mouth. You met his eyes, opening your mouth, and he pushed them in, pressing down on your tongue. “Mm, good girl.” He mused, his free hand was fumbling with the zipper of his pants, and you finally took the opportunity to get a good look at him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his hair messy, and of course, his noticeably hard dick pressing against the fabric of his pants. “You like what you see?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, his fingers still placed aptly in your mouth. He struggled for a moment to free his dick from its cloth confinements, but your eyes widened when he did. You didn’t know what you had expected. When you had felt it at the bar it felt.. big.. but you hadn’t nearly prepared yourself to see it. He wrapped a fist around his cock, and you watched, unable to tear you eyes away. “That’s right," his voice was sweet. "You’re gonna be a good girl and watch daddy touch himself. because you haven’t earned the chance to do it yourself, have you?"

Did Spencer just call himself daddy? This was a moment where you were sure that you should be laughing. It made no sense. It wasn’t… Spencer. And yet, you could only react with a gargled moan. Why was this turning you on? Why was this hot? You decided your original idea had been right. You were dead or drugged. No way this was real. But you didn’t have too much time to think about it before his next command came. He pressed his fingers further into your opened mouth. “Suck.”

You obliged, closing your lips around them and running your tongue up and down their length, imagining it was his cock in your mouth instead. He groaned in pleasure, the speed at which he jerked himself off at increasing steadily. “You don’t know how difficult tonight was for me y/n,” he gasped out. “Seeing your pretty little body in such a tight dress, you grinding your ass into my cock like you didn’t have a care in the world. So difficult for me to not bend you over that bar and fuck you there right where everyone could see.” He closed his own eyes for a moment. Your hand creeped in between your legs, craving stimulation. He huffed, noticing, and removed his fingers from your mouth. “I know how badly you want me, baby. It must have been hard for you too, huh?” You nodded, playing to his sympathy. “It’s okay sweetheart. I’ll be nice.” He made good on his word, immediately pushing both fingers into your entrance, your body clenching around him. You were already so blissed out, you couldn’t decide whether to close your eyes from all the pleasure or to force them open so you could watch as he fucked his fist. You were moaning, writhing against his fingers. You wanted nothing more than for Spencer Reid to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you. But you supposed this would suffice for now.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby? Gonna cum all over my fingers? I know you’re gonna look so fucking pretty. So fucked out and weak. All for me.”

Well, if you weren’t about to cum before, you definitely were after he said that. You whimpered, nodding, and his fingers moved in and out of you even faster. “Good. Good girl. Cum for me. If you do you might even have time to help daddy out before he’s done.”

Well, that was an offer too enticing to refuse. So you did as he said. You came, shaking, around his fingers, your moans of pleasure echoing in the small space of the car. He watched you, eyes unwavering, as he made you come undone. His fingers didn’t still until you were panting, squeezing your thighs together to slow him down. “Even prettier than I imagined,” Spencer commented, placing his fingers back into your mouth for you to clean. You did, happily, and when you had taken a moment to regain your sanity, you looked at him eagerly. “Aw, look at you. So cute. You really wanna help daddy cum?”

You nodded, eyes still trained on his hand pumping his cock. “Come here baby.” He said. His voice was so hot when he was like this, you noticed. It was breathy. Strained. Filled with desire. He gently placed a hand on the back of your head, rooting his fingers in the hair on your scalp, guiding you down towards the tip of his dick. Your tongue flicked out, testing him, and he moaned your name loudly. You took him into your mouth, his hand applying just a bit of pressure. You started slowly, trying to get used to the length of it, and his head lulled back against the passenger seat, hair falling into his face. You were slow, but he didn’t push your head down farther, despite the fact that he could’ve. No, instead his hips began to buck up ever so slightly. He looked down at you, checking to make sure it was alright, and when he saw no sign of distress he began to thrust shallowly into your mouth, his hand still keeping you in place. “You feel so good, y/n.” His eyes rolled back. You moaned around him. Fuck. Why was it so hot letting him use you for pleasure like this? “I’m gonna cum.” He stuttered through gritted teeth. “And you’re gonna take all of it, right? Because daddy was so- f-fuck- so good to you.” You couldn’t reply, but you knew that he knew the answer was yes anyway. After a few more thrusts of his hips he came,  the taste and warmth flooding your senses.  You did your best to take it in full, wanting to fully follow his directions. When you were content with your work his hand eased off of you and you sat up straight, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you swallowed.

There was silence. You pulled the straps of your bra and dress up, regaining your breath.

“So I was right about you liking it when I kissed you.” Spencer breathed out eventually, zipping his pants back up.

You shook your head, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation, and started the car.

“Well, Doctor, you’re rarely wrong.”

[whenisitenoughtrees]

still taking prompts? got rlly excited for a bit when u said u were bc i enjoy ur style a lot. anyway, lamp/calm for prompt #29? the prompt sounds like smth chaotic they would do lol

this is less chaotic and more tooth-rottingly fluffy, but uh here you go

for #29. Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!

Title: overthinking (darling we’re just fine)

Word Count: 1,963

Content Warnings: gratuitous discussion of breakfast foods

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

“Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!”

He hisses the words out entirely too loudly in the silence of the corridor, and Virgil winces as the sound dies down. In his defense, it is six in the morning, and he is hardly thinking straight. Or rather, coherently. And Roman knows it, too, is smirking at him with that stupid handsome smirk of his, and Virgil would seriously consider kissing him if it weren’t for the fact that he is running on roughly three hours of sleep, and his irritation is spiking.

“Now, storm cloud,” he says, voice just below a normal speaking volume, “we all know that Patton’s going to be dead to the world until at least seven thirty. You don’t need to worry so much.”

And, alright, maybe that’s true. But Virgil glares at him, too tired to deal with the slightly patronizing tone of voice. “Yeah?” he challenges. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Roman lifts an eyebrow. “Darling, I think I’ve done a bit more than meet you, at this point—”

“If you two are done making unnecessary noise?” It’s Logan, coming back around the corner, and he does not look impressed. Though, that may be because it’s six in the morning, and Logan never looks impressed about anything until his second cup of coffee. “By my estimates, we have one hour and seventeen minutes before we enter the window of time in which Patton is most likely to wake up. That should be enough time to complete all of our tasks, if we begin now and don’t commit any egregious errors.”

Virgil exchanges a look with Roman.

“Right, lead the way, Lo,” Roman says, and Virgil trails after the two of them, his brain fixing itself on the phrase egregious errors, because of course it does, because it’s him, because he can’t make it through one morning without his mind insisting that something is going to go terribly wrong and also that the world is ending.

He breathes in and out, slowly and deliberately. It’s just breakfast. They’re just making breakfast for Patton, because Patton has been sad and distant lately and nobody is quite sure how to help him, but doing something like this for him might cheer him up a bit.

So many things could go wrong, of course. They could burn the food. They could burn themselves. They could make such a mess that the prospect of cleaning it all up will put more stress on Patton than cooking the meal for him will alleviate, and then he’ll be even more sad and distant, and also, the world will end.

He’s trying not to think about any of that. Trying and failing. This sucks.

“Do you both remember your parts?” Logan asks. He’s tying an apron around his middle, black and utilitarian, but it suits him, somehow. Roman answers in the affirmative, already rattling around in the cupboards for the pans he needs, and Virgil gives a short nod.

Logan is making an omelet, one with all the fixings that Patton likes, ham and cheese and onion. Roman has insisted on making blueberry muffins from scratch, because he’s Roman and he has to be one hundred percent extra one hundred percent of the time. So, that’s left Virgil in charge of protein, and he’s chosen bacon. He knows how to make bacon. Theoretically, bacon is easy; you put it on the frying pan and flip it at the right time, and viola. Bacon.

So he stands there, watching it sizzle. Logan is next to him, keeping a close watch over his omelet on the stove top, and he serves as a steadying presence, reminding Virgil that he’s fine and that he can do this, and that bacon doesn’t take a very long time anyway, so even if he messes up, he can do it again. On Logan’s other side, Roman has commandeered the entire counter for his ingredients. He’s mixing them together and humming to himself, a jovial tune, and it’s still too loud but Virgil feels better about it than he did a few minutes ago.

He finishes the first batch, and frowns at the strips. They’re definitely cooked through all the way, but they’re a bit floppy, and a realization strikes him: he doesn’t know how Patton likes his bacon. Chewy or crispy? Or somewhere in between, with some crispy bits at the edges and the rest softer?

Oh god, the world is ending.

He must make a noise, or a noticeable motion, because Logan glances over at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“Chewy or crispy?” he manages to say, though his throat has clenched up like a vice. He is well aware that he’s making too big of a deal about this, that it’s just bacon, for crying out loud, but he’s running on so little sleep and it’s so important to him that he gets this right, that they succeed in making Patton feel a little better, and in the face of that, imperfect bacon might as well be the worst catastrophe he’s ever faced.

Logan’s brow furrows. “Are you talking about the bacon?” he asks. “You know, I’m not actually sure.”

He groans, staring at what he’s already made. It might be fine, but then again, it might not be, and if it’s not—

“Virgil,” Logan says, a bit of amusement creeping into his voice. “Please, breathe. Overly processed meat products are not worthy of your distress.”

“But—”

“No,” Logan says, “none of that. Even if we don’t know which he prefers, I find it unlikely that he will reject it out of hand if it’s crispier or chewier than he likes. And besides, if it would ease your mind, there is still plenty of time to make more, and that can be crispier than this first batch, so he can choose what he wants.”

He closes his eyes, nodding, turning over the words in his mind. As always, Logan knows exactly what to say to bring him out of a spiral.

“Right,” he says, and then again, because it’s reassuring to hear it out loud. “Right.”

Logan smiles at him, and then, almost too quickly to process, presses a soft kiss to the corner of Virgil’s mouth. He feels himself heating up, especially when he hears Roman laugh a bit.

“There we are,” Logan says fondly, and Virgil doesn’t see so much as sense Roman sneaking around to his other side. He anticipates the kiss, smacked against his cheek, wet and sloppy. He turns to glare, but Roman grins back at him unabashedly.

“I hear it’s loving Virgil hours?” he asks, and Virgil resists the urge to groan.

“It’s ten ‘til seven,” Logan says, but dashes Virgil’s hopes by following that up with, “though I’m not sure why the time matters. Every time is a good time to love Virgil.”

“Oh my god,” he says, and prays that his blush isn’t as obvious as he thinks it is. He may not have much dignity left to speak of, but he has a little bit, if he can hang on to it. “Isn’t it supposed to be loving Patton hours? Can we focus on that, please?”

“We can multitask,” Roman singsongs. “Muffins going in.”

Wordlessly, Virgil steps aside to allow him access to the oven.

“Actually,” Logan says, leaning against the counter with a self-satisfied expression, “the human brain is not designed for true multitasking. This is what makes speaking on the phone while driving so dangerous; if one attempts to accomplish multiple tasks at once, the ability to do all of them is severely compromised.” He pauses. “Though I believe Roman’s point does stand.”

“Of course it does,” Roman says airily. “We have so much love to go around.”

Logan concedes the point with a tilt of his head, but any attempt at stoicism is ruined by the grin twitching at the edges of his lips. Virgil rolls his eyes and dumps more bacon into his pan, but he has to admit, he does feel a lot more relaxed.

Which was probably their goal all along.

They finish up breakfast. Logan makes several omelets that are up to his standards, and Roman’s muffins come out of the oven perfectly baked, soft and crumbly on the top. And Virgil makes another batch of bacon, crispy this time, and then one more for good measure, just to make sure there’s enough of both kinds. Roman goes about setting the table for four, back to humming quietly to himself.

Virgil tunes into the sound on instinct, letting the ebb and flow of Roman’s voice ground him.

Logan surveys the spread of food with satisfaction. “Some fruit, perhaps?” he suggests, and Virgil veers over toward the fridge, digging through to find some strawberries. He’s washing them up when there is a sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and everyone else quiets.

Virgil turns to see Patton standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and his first thought is that he looks like crap. His hair is still mussed from sleep, and he has a thick blanket draped across his shoulders, but that’s not what catches Virgil’s attention; it’s the bloodshot look in his eyes and the bags underneath them, pointing to at least one restless night, if not more. It’s a look that Virgil is used to seeing in his own mirror; he doesn’t like seeing it on Patton.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan says softly. “We made breakfast for you.”

Patton blinks owlishly, and for a moment, his face is completely blank, as if the words haven’t registered with him at all. Then, his eyes flicker to the table, and then to the mess in the kitchen, and go wide.

“You did all this for me?” he asks, his voice small.

Roman drapes his arms over him from behind, kissing his cheek just in front of his ear.

“Of course,” he says.

“We’ve noticed that you haven’t been feeling well lately,” Logan adds. “We hoped that this might help you feel better.”

A smile breaks out on Patton’s face, then, thin and watery and wavering but there all the same, and it is such a relief to see that Virgil feels as though a physical weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Patton gestures toward Logan, who steps forward obligingly into the hug, and then Patton looks to Virgil, who is still hovering awkwardly around the sink, hands full of strawberries, and, well. He can never deny Patton anything, and a group hug sounds nice, so he sets the strawberries down on the counter and moves to join them. It’s a big, warm embrace with Patton in the middle, and Virgil sighs as the last of his tension drips out of him, leaving him uncommonly relaxed.

“I love you guys so much,” Patton says. “Thank you.”

“Love you too, Pat,” Virgil murmurs, and though his voice gets a little bit lost in between the other two saying much the same thing, he knows that Patton hears him, because he turns to him for just a second and smiles, brighter and more genuine, and really, that makes all the stress of the morning completely worth it.

So, they have breakfast, and it’s good, and Virgil notices that Patton doesn’t seem to have much a preference between the two types of bacon, but that’s more than alright, because the point is to make Patton a bit happier, and the small smile on his face says that they’ve succeeded at that. So maybe the world isn’t ending at all.

Because Virgil would rather die than say something so cheesy out loud, but he’s got his entire world right here, sitting around the table in the early morning light, food and company and love to spare.

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @sammy-is-obsessed @imlovethomassanders @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @halfordshysteria @random-fander @addykatb @i-cant-find-a-good-username @intruxiety @maybedefinitely404 @arya-skywalker @thefivecalls @nerdy-emo-royal-dad

[sunxeii]

I love reading your tags and was wonder what your interpretation on the Lip x Lip pocky edition is? Also, more similarities between Ken and Aizou's types because I want them to have some common ground they have so they can try to talk to each other and reconnect again.

Aww, I’m glad you love reading my tags~ Thank you sm!! <33 it makes me happy knowing people like my rambles and opinion on things,,

Are you talking about that pocky scene in the new MV where Yuujirou and Aizou are at the store together and had their own pockys in their hands? Or are you referring to their pocky flavors? :O pls let me know~

As for the analysis between Ken and Aizou’s types…

(I ended up talking A LOT so you can read more under the cut ahsjs)

I know you probably meant their physical similarities (like hairstyle, etc) but I kinda delved more into their characters??

Compared to the Shibasaki brothers who, in a sense, are more modern… Yuujirou and Arisa have different family backgrounds than most people. Arisa’s family owns a shrine, meanwhile, the Someya family has a kabuki legacy and many of them (especially his stepdad and brother) are very strict about beauty + a good performance. Arisa is sometimes seen in shrine maiden clothing while Yuujirou is sometimes seen in traditional clothing. Arisa’s grandfather is a Shinto shrine priest and Yuujirou’s stepdad/brother and other people in his personal life are kabuki actors.

Both of them know how to dance like some of their family members and they definitely practice.

Here, Ken is watching her perform and blushing. Aizou has also canonically seen Yuujirou perform kabuki. LOOK HOW GOOD THEY LOOK and their eyes omg (granted, arisa obviously looks happier but yeah) BUT YEAH,, look at these two images and tell me you don’t find the similarities.

Also, both Yuujirou and Arisa sometimes do the :3 face

Arisa had put her hair up in high twintails after being inspired by Sena, and she even moved forward in life as she tried to be more outgoing and friendly. Since Yuujirou’s application has him with long bangs and he came to the audition with short bangs, I’m assuming he may have cut them himself. He has also tried being more kind and cool to the public eye (fans, classmates, etc.)

So they both directly changed their hairstyles and acted friendlier. They’re moving forward aww

Arisa and Yuujirou don’t consider Ken and Aizou as perfect, even from the start. Arisa found Ken’s way of living too “my-pace” and even boring. Meanwhile, Yuujiou bickered with Aizou on their first meeting.

Both Arisa and Yuujirou had problems making friends when they were younger. Yuujirou kept himself busy with Kabuki practice whenever he was invited to hang out so he never rlly formed any actual friendships, and Arisa tended to “poke her nose into other people’s affairs and had unintentionally spoken harshly during elementary school, which ended up with her often being left out by her peers,” according to her novel.

Both Arisa and Yuujirou had problems making friends when they were younger. Yuujirou kept himself busy with Kabuki practice whenever he was invited to hang out so he never rlly formed any actual friendships, and Arisa tended to “poke her nose into other people’s affairs and had unintentionally spoken harshly during elementary school, which ended up with her often being left out by her peers,” according to her novel.

Aizou is technically Yuujirou’s first friend, since it was revealed that Yuujirou’s childhood lacked any friendships and he pushed everyone away because he felt like there wasn’t a point in making friends. However, Aizou kept talking to him and involving him in things despite their arguments. In Arisa’s case, Ken noticed her from afar and told his friend to keep an eye on her ( for him to act like her friend or smth.) This helped her get situated and it made her feel happy.

We know that the Shibasaki brothers have a certain way they portray themselves on the outside. They are seen as sociable, friendly, and outgoing by the public eye (aizou with his fans and classmates.) But on the inside, despite their popularity and interactions, they’re lonely people. Other people like them but they can’t see who they truly are, at least 100%. Both Yuujirou and Arisa can. The brothers talk to their partners and involve them in stuff, even when the other doesn’t seem to want to comply or ignore them. Arisa defends/defended people and Yuujirou has actually defended Aizou and even made him cheer up and laugh by doing a particular face when his idol partner was visibly upset about something. So, the both of them help the boys better themselves and the Shibasaki brothers know they can rely on their partners. Lonely Persons imply that Yuujirou and Arisa are the only people that can understand Aizou and Ken, even when the other doesn’t properly say it in words or tell anyone else. It’s like words aren’t even needed and their bonds are deeper than that.

Both the cat versions of their types look at the brothers and arisa is within arms reach, fairly close to ken because she’s there for him and they’re dating. Aizou feels like Yuujirou is there for him but he’s also afraid of losing him and that they aren’t as close as he may think— obviously that’s not true because yuujirou appears with a smile and looks at him softly. // psttt just shoot ur shoot aizou// Both Arisa and Yuujirou are holding their cat versions (kuro and the random cat lmao) close to their chests too, with one hand over the cats’ backs.

Between Aiyuu and Shibarisa, arisa and yuujirou are seen as the more “chill” or “quiet” ones (even though, of course, yuujirou is quite sneaky and arisa is outgoing in a way)

Arisa seems to like the crepes on their date and Yuujirou, with his sweet tooth, would DEFINITELY love crepes. i demand a crepe date for aiyuu,, i demand us seeing aiyuu eating cake on xmas.

By the way, this is just a fun observation but both Ken and Aizou definitely think about texting Arisa and Yuujirou the most during literally anything. In “Naimaki Honey”, Ken looks happy while he stares at his phone and he’s def on LINE a lot for arisa— i bet he texts her goodmorning and goodnight + little things. Aizou literally texted Yuujirou at 2 am over some BEEF ROAST he made. like it was his first thought after he finished and yuujirou read it immediately (but didn’t reply lmao) I’m assuming arisa and yuujirou don’t text with the same energy as their partner most times.

Also, we already know how they’ve been compared to or represented by cats. And the Shibasaki brothers own a cat, plus aizou likes cats more.

OK WOO— i’m done HSJS. So sorry that it was a long read !!! I tried to compile some stuff and then I accidentally exited out and lost everything SHDJS

[woeismyhoe]

Rachel Amber, The Broken Angel Who Demonized Herself

Fair warning, please bear with this probably incredibly **longass** (I’m not kidding it’s rlly long) analysis of one of the fandom’s most controversial disliked characters, Rachel Amber. This is just my attempt to analyze her character based on observation from BtS to LiS so by no means do you have to accept them. Productive discussions are obviously very welcomed :D

In LiS, when we asked about Rachel around campus, most of them had nothing but compliments and praises for the missing girl. She was essentially an honorary Vortex Club member who socialised with the snobs, yet she also hung out with the skater stoners and was friendly with those at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Then we see those graffiti around where it hints at Rachel’s promiscuity, debts and conflicts with other people. That’s the first sign we see that Rachel Amber isn’t as perfect as everyone was making her out to be. Afterwards we discover that Rachel was a stoner herself and into whatever drugs there were, partied harder than anyone else, promiscuous, entered a relationship with local drug dealer Frank Bowers while having a secret relationship with Psycho teacher Mark Jefferson— all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA in her studies and being considered perfect and adored by practically everyone in her school. The girl’s incredible, obviously, or maybe scary for someone to be so spread out in everything.

Rachel was a straight A student with a 4.0 GPA, an administrative assistant to the Principal, beloved by students and faculty alike, literal goddess beauty, had ambitions to be a model and study international law, daughter of the DA and was the closest to perfection anyone would ever be— so what went wrong? What made her romanticise the idea of running away from a town where everyone loves and adores her?

Because of the above.

Yes, it may sound whiny and dramatic to feel tired of being loved and being the center of attention all the time, but there’s no point to it if it’s not you who they adore, but the person you’re pretending to be— (“I was feeling angsty and reckless. Tired of living up to the perfect image everybody expects out of me.”) —especially when you have to do so much just to maintain the lie.

Throughout LiS and BtS, Rachel’s ability to get along with everyone was always mentioned. At face value she was akin to a social butterfly. She hung out with stoners regardless of their social status (skaters or the vortex club), was friendly with anyone regardless of their place in the social hierarchy (eg; Daniel/Evan/Steph/Drew/Nathan) or even to strangers others usually ignored (Samuel/Homeless lady). Like Evan said, Her friends were her friends. She wasn’t one to let peer pressure affect her relationships so she wasn’t afraid to make all those acquaintances.

However, for those who knew her closely (Chloe and Jefferson), she was referred to as a chameleon, someone who blended in with everyone and everywhere seamlessly. This was an important detail regarding who Rachel was and her intimacy with others. To be able to make that comparison, they would’ve needed to know who the person Rachel actually was underneath the masks she’d created over the years. Chloe was the first to truly see and accept her for who she was. Jefferson was the one who exploited her for it.

For most, being a social chameleon would count as a beneficial social skill if they’re subtle. So long as the person doesn’t lose themselves in the process and is able to separate their personas from their true self, it remains a skill and will be used as such.

The problem with Rachel was that it transcended beyond a skill. A social chameleon was *what* she became, and that led to losing her own sense of identity, to becoming a stranger in her own body.

We see her confiding to Chloe about this feeling in Brave New World: (“Do you think there’s a point when you’ve been acting so much that you don’t even have your own personality anymore? You’re just whatever you think other people want you to be?”) —to which Chloe tells her she does have a personality because she assumed Rachel was talking about herself. But Rachel apparently wasn’t and clarifies she was talking about her father. She then elaborates on how her father doesn’t really exist, that how he was in the principal’s office was a mere performance and then the actual truth— that she’s afraid she’ll end up like him.

No matter how you interpret that scene, the conclusion is that one of Rachel’s fears was becoming like James— someone who’s been so wrapped up in all the lies and manipulation that he no longer seemed recognisable to even his own daughter.

At that point her defence mechanism of deflection and avoidance came into play after Chloe got a little too close to home. We first see this on the train scene when they play Two Truths and a Lie. Rachel gave factual statements as opposed to Chloe who gave facts that elaborated into her personal life. At one point Chloe can ask how Rachel knew about having a distal radius fracture and It’s a very minor detail, but when she explains that it’s because she broke her wrist when she was 10, she says it extremely fast. When Chloe is about to press for more info about something personal no matter what option you choose, Rachel dismissively turns around the conversation from herself back to Chloe again.

The next time we see her deflecting is right after witnessing her father cheating. When Chloe asks about her, Rachel deflects and guilt trips her into somehow thinking she’s at fault for failing to get them wasted and then proceeds to drown her sorrows into alcohol instead of opening up. Afterwards when they find the junkyard, Rachel chooses to isolate herself from Chloe and withdraws to the corner, getting irritated if Chloe chooses to invade her space. When Chloe confronts her about her sudden moodiness, Rachel yet again deflects and shifts the attention to Chloe by essentially telling her she’s self-centred. This scene was classic Deflection 101 brought by Rachel’s defence mechanism to cope with her father’s betrayal.

Rachel uses deflection and avoidance as a defence mechanism, a habit which stems from the dynamics of the Amber family. When you have a Politician as a father whose life work is to manipulate and lie, and a Stepford Wife as a mother who wilfully acts like a servant to her husband out of sacrifice and duty— an environment of deceit and suppression of one’s feelings will be fostered. This is what shapes Rachel to be distrusting and unhealthily altruistic as we see in BtS.

And so Rachel’s deflection is driven by 2 things: mistrust (James) and her unhealthy altruism (Rose).

As a district attorney, James unfortunately carried his work persona into his personal life and can be presumed to lie to even his own family on a daily basis to the point that Rachel can tell when he’s lying: (“When your Dad is the District Attorney, I guess lying is...something you're used to.”) (Why can't you just tell me the fucking truth?! Stop lying! Stop being a politician for one fucking minute! Can’t you just be my Dad?”) What that tells us is that Rachel’s actually used to being lied at and treated with cynicism, so naturally that would make her guarded around others. Not to mention since James often exercised his professional prerogative (just recall how he spoke to Chloe and her comment about his micro-aggressions towards his own family), it’s most likely that he was also cynical towards people in general and carried that mindset forward at Rachel as well.

As for Rose, you have to really observe how she carried herself and her choice of words. A lot of people pointed out how robotic she sounded and blamed it on bad voice acting, but I think that was actually intentional. She was too mannered, too submissive and too robotic as a person. It’s not exactly a bad thing, but a lot of her personality seemed to be too... *political* for the sake of her husband’s political career. It was altruistic in the way that she sacrificed her own needs for her husband’s and was unfailingly supportive (eg; preparing dinner all by herself, *respectfully* asking James for his drink, even going so far as to excuse James for kissing Sera like wtf). Point is, Rose was the stereotypical political wife whose job was to shut up, look good and smile for her husband while he does the talking. At one point in the dinner scene when they start fighting, James even dared to say ‘Rose, let me handle this’ as if Rose’s voice was irrelevant and unimportant to the table (when he literally just got exposed for cheating lmao).

So what happens when your family environment consists of a father who actively lies and uses manipulation to twist facts, expects you to be compliant in exchange for rewards (birthday money), has the ability to read people, and a mother who does too much for someone who does the barest minimum for the family and represses herself for the sake of others? An environment of deceit and suppression will be fostered, and you develop all of their qualities, for better or worse. That’s difficult to change when your own family dynamics molded you to be that way and then reward you for it. If you recall, Rachel’s mannerisms changed completely when in front of her family and if Chloe complained about having to play the goody two shoes formal well-behaved humorless girl, Rachel would say: ‘try doing it your whole life’. So not only was she playing different roles in school but evidently at home as well.

But It’s not as if the Amber family was aware of the toxic environment they’d created. That’s just what their normal was: to be well-mannered, formal, professional, mature and well-articulated.

This is where Rachel’s social chameleon tendencies develops. Social chameleons usually have reasons for blending in when it comes to personal relationships:

1. Being liked is important for them (they value what people think of them).

2. They want to blend in so as to not stand out (they don’t like attention).

3. They’re doing it to make the other person comfortable (the needs of others come first before theirs).

Considering how Rachel was extremely popular, active in all sorts of school activities and enjoyed the attention of being the star, no. 2 is out. She confessed to wanting to stop being a social chameleon and didn’t seem to care much about Victoria’s dislike of her + she also did it to her family so no. 1 is out as well, which leaves us to no. 3— doing it for the comfort of others. In other words, because she *gave too much shit about other people all the time*.

What further supports the point of Rachel’s unhealthy altruism is what she says to Chloe at the junkyard— (“Maybe you should try giving a shit about other people for once.”) —which essentially tells us that she’s been doing exactly that to be able to lecture Chloe into following her own perspective. Another example would be what she tells Chloe during their therapy session: “—Because she was tired of having to give so many fucks all the time.”

One thing however that all *extreme* social chameleons share is the fact that they **loathe** themselves, or at the very least— dislike who they are. Why else would they go all the trouble of creating different personas for everyone to the point of forgetting their own, if they actually liked themselves?

One of the many things that Chloe and Rachel shared in common was their self-awareness in how undeniably shitty they can be, and that they hated who they were. Whereas Chloe embraced that whole part of her down her self destructive road, Rachel tried to cover hers up by playing other roles for people. Both girls played their sides to the ends of the spectrum; Chloe being selfish (causing problems for everyone in general unnecessarily) and Rachel being selfless (posing no problem for anyone in general even if there was a problem). They had no healthy balance and their unhealthy mindset ultimately drove them down a self destructive path.

Rachel knew she was selfish by nature, and that she’d take it out on Chloe in Ep 1. That’s why instead of talking about what was wrong, she chose to drown herself to alcohol and distance herself from Chloe. When Chloe confronts her about it, she either tells her that not everything revolves around her or that she should try giving a shit about people for once. In other words, ‘Other people have bigger problems than you so shut up and don’t make it worse for them.’ That was Rachel’s mentality and in that moment of poor lapse in judgment, she applied that logic to Chloe expecting her to think the way she does— to put others before yourself.

With Rachel, she always had her walls up and couldn’t help it even if she wanted to because it's practically second nature to have her guard up (“I never said how dearly I hold thee; my habit's been to keep my soul well-draped.“). It’s only in her lowest vulnerable moments is when she finally let her walls down because that’s when she’s too tired to keep them up.

Luckily (or unluckily) for Rachel, she recognized her problem. The only thing is that she didn’t know how to solve them. She confided to Chloe about feeling like she doesn’t exist, but then backtracked and clarified she was talking about her dad instead when Chloe got too close to home. Even IF she was genuinely talking about her father, it doesn’t erase the fact that she believed there was a possibility she was going to become like him— because she already saw the signs and made the comparison between them.

Remember her infamous outbursts in Awake? Unlike Chloe, she’s the type who keeps everything bottled in until it’s too much. Seeing her father kissing another woman was the breaking point and that’s why she reacted badly. And then when she kicked that bin, that was equivalent to Chloe smashing up the junkyard. And then that scream. That scream was the result of years bottling her pent up frustration, stress, anger at everyone including herself. Because she did everything to make her family proud, to please everyone to the point that she felt so empty and hollow, only to realize that it was all for nothing because her father was destroying her family. It wasn’t just a betrayal from her father but a betrayal to herself.

And then there’s Chloe Price. The girl who is the total opposite of her, yet who she can somehow still connect with at the same time. While she cared too much about what others thought, Chloe gave absolutely no fucks. That was her most attractive and admirable quality for Rachel. So what does she do? She latches onto Chloe to do exactly what she knows best. Become the ideal version of whoever wants her to be. In other words, the Rachel Amber who would finally give no fucks.

Rachel was the closest to her truest self when she was around Chloe. Just as she brought life and hope back into the girl’s life, so did Chloe for her. Chloe broke the walls she put up, and she’d seen her vulnerable enough times to let her mask slip. Chloe saw her at her lowest, ugliest self even when she wasn’t doing her usual thing of keeping everyone around her happy, yet she didn’t mock or leave her for it. For the first time, she was selfish, and *still* Chloe came back. That was a BIG reason to trust each other for the both of them. And that’s ultimately what bonded them for so long— the fact that they could be the shittiest people on earth, yet still see the best in each other even if they only see the worst in themselves.

Chloe was the first one to see through her social chameleon act because she slipped, and she continued to let her unmask who she was because that night Rachel just didn’t care enough to hold up the act any longer. This detail of Rachel’s chameleon act slipping *only* when something was wrong is a vital part in understanding the context around her. The first time was when she witnessed her whole world crash, the second was when she realized she was becoming like James, and the third was when she discovered what a monster James was. The fourth— when she asked that trucker for a drive out and didn’t bother to be her usual social chameleon self. We may never know what happened, but something wrong was going on in Rachel’s life that she didn’t want Chloe to be a part of— because why would she put the girl who stuck by her during her darkest hours through her bullshit again?

But at the end of the day, that wasn’t enough. Chloe wasn’t enough. And that’s understandable because a teenager truly can’t and shouldn’t have to be responsible for someone else’s happiness. No matter what choice Chloe makes at the end of BtS, the truth inevitably gets out and leads to Rachel having a fall out with her parents. When that happened, she lost a big pillar of her support system which only leaves her with Chloe who’s another emotionally damaged teen that’s on the road to self-destruction. Chloe can’t help others without helping herself first. But still, who else is there to make them feel a little less shitty except each other?

After her fall out with her parents and her father in particular, she seemed to have developed a taste for men twice her age: Frank Bowers (32) and Mark Jefferson (38). Whatever the reason her relationship with Frank was, she still wrote him those letters and seemed to have cared for him to some extent. Not only was he the source for drugs for her very much needed escape, but he was also the man who helped save her life in one of her most vulnerable moments, and a possible lead to find Sera. It’s not that surprising she’d seek comfort and safety in his arms when he already proved himself once. But clearly it wasn’t serious because she was fooling around with Jefferson at the same time (and Frank knew they wouldn’t have lasted anyway).

Now, Jefferson. The devs confirmed that Rachel was in love with Jefferson and honestly, that’s the least surprising thing ever considering how he basically had the female population of Blackwell head over heels for him. Even Rachel wasn’t immune to that psychopath’s charm. He was a well reputable photographer, had the connections to propel her modeling career, was attractive and mysterious and apparently a damaged soul. He was the perfect one way ticket out of Arcadia Bay. He was her photographer and she was his muse. He was basically the perfect solution to her problems.

The girl clearly had deep rooted daddy issues and was ashamed of it herself since she couldn’t even share her secret relationship to the one person she trusted the most despite sharing her other relationships with her (except Frank).

This is where the drugs and partying come in. They’re a way for her to escape the bullshit in her life for a few hours. Chloe was what made her feel real, but the drugs and partying was what made her forget— forget that her biological mother chose drugs and money over her (twice), forget that her own father was so despicable that he was planning to overdose Sera (this is what Chloe said in the silent dialogue), forget that her biological mother may just be dead somewhere because of James, forget that her own family was a lie, forget all the expectations placed upon her, forget that she herself was a lie, forget that she was so insecure that she had to seek warmth and safety in the arms of men twice her age, forget the guilt of knowing the girl who would die for her was still not enough, forget that at the end of the day all her problems is caused by her own mind and that her own fears had come to reality. And she hated herself for that.

But still, Rachel wasn’t a total junkie or outwardly self destructive to the point that she abandoned her studies like Chloe did. She didn’t let the drugs and partying dictate her life, hence the 4.0 GPA. After all, she still had a reputation to maintain. She was still the DA’s daughter, and getting into college was still a way to get out of Arcadia Bay.

BUT SEE, that was exactly Rachel’s problem. She could never choose which to be; The Problematic Junkie of a Disappointment (Sera), or the Golden Child (James & Rose) everyone expected her to be. She wanted to be as free as Chloe, but she also didn’t want to be a disappointment. She was tired of everything but couldn’t allow herself to fall because it was her nature to demand the best of herself for others as long as she could do it. But what happens when it’s your very own nature you’re going against? It gets really complicated. So instead of choosing, she doesn’t and becomes both. That was ultimately the worst decision she ever made.

Make no mistake, Rachel was an absolute idiot for being so indecisive. She could have easily solved her problems if she just finally gave no shit and did whatever she wanted to. But that’s the problem with people who’re labeled as perfect growing up. They eventually believe it and demand perfection of themselves. They care too much about everything because if they have the ability to be perfect, then why would you choose not to be? When someone is seen to be perfect, disappointment is 10x worse. Even Chloe was guilty of idealizing Rachel to be this perfect girl and was disappointed when she realized Rachel was just like everyone else who puts in hard work—(“Rachel's always made being an A student seem so easy. Almost sad to see all this... effort."), but it’s Chloe accepting Rachel for who she was despite no longer being the perfect girl she believed her to be that mattered.

With being seen as perfect usually comes with the assumption that your whole life is. Just as everyone invalidated her problems because she’s Little Miss Perfect with the perfect grades and the seemingly perfect family, so did she.

‘Cause hey, what does she have to be mad about when she’s a rich white girl who’s been given everything she’s ever wanted, right? (James basically said that). At that point the only problem Rachel had was that she was acting as the perfect daughter and perfect friend and perfect student at the expense of her own happiness, and then throw in the sudden slap in the face that it was all for nothing because her father was destroying the family she’d tried so hard to do proud.

But then again even if that wasn’t enough reason to spiral, it really would mess you up if your own father told you that your biological mother chose money and drugs over you, that everything you’ve done so far was all for a lie and worst of all, that your own father was going to kill your biological mother and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I mean really, I’m not a therapist or anything but I wouldn’t be surprised if Rachel’s mental health was suffering by that point.

I mean get this: she abused drugs and partied harder than anyone else and got wasted even though she knew they were wrong (Sera would’ve been a painful reminder), slept around with older men who undoubtedly took advantage and controlled her, continued to act like the perfect student and pretended to be someone she’s not just to keep everyone happy even though it was causing her to question her own existence— it’s almost as if she was punishing herself for continuing down that path.

Ultimately what Rachel was running away from was who she had become in Arcadia Bay. Once she’d be out, she wouldn’t be Little Miss Perfect anymore. She wouldn’t be the DA’s daughter. She wouldn’t have to keep lying. She would be able to start over. She would just be Rachel Amber, the nobody.

She cared too much in contrast to Chloe’s ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude, and that’s why she still managed to maintain her perfect image even when she was already so broken. Whereas Chloe’s first instinct was to blame others, Rachel’s was to blame herself. Both never had a healthy balance when it came to accepting responsibility and that’s what connected them so well together.

Call it selflessness or selfishness or stupidity or melodrama, but at the end of the day Rachel tried to keep everyone around her happy, just like Max tried to do with her powers except Rachel used lies to do it. She was greedy and selfish, no disagreement to that, but she also tried to be selfless for most of her life. She was her own enemy and she demonized herself for it. And that got her murdered, thrown and buried away like the used rag doll she treated herself to be.

She was Chloe’s angel and Chloe was hers, but she was also her own demon. And there’s only so much two broken angels can do against a demon.

**TL;DR:** Idealizing her to be the Perfect Girl was what made her want to run away. Her family was what broke her. Desperation for escape was what killed her. Her family just *really* suck.

Now, I’m not trying to justify Rachel’s actions but merely rationalizing her character. I acknowledge that she was capable of being a shitty person at times, but just as Chloe had her issues, so did she, and so I choose to see them both for what they tried to be. Good hearted people just trying to make their shitty life a little easier. At the end of the day, Rachel Amber was a deeply flawed, insecure and emotionally damaged girl that pretended like nothing was wrong to forget about her troubles for a little, and was just dealt a bad hand in life. Literally.

After writing all of this, I realize that holy shit this girl was fucking complicated and a single post doesn’t do her justice nor explains her character properly enough. I thought it’d be simple enough to word it out, but then again, someone who was basically a junkie yet still managed to maintain her perfect reputation amongst her peers and the faculty is bound to be this complexed. Also as you can see I got very lazy at the middle of the elaborations and repetition has probably made this unnecessarily long but thank you for reading and finishing this overall confusing and messy essay.

[collisiondiscourse]

i have decided i am now going to blow up your inbox bc i csn i’m sorry codi focnnf

b u t!! anyway i’m going to rambling abt my new dad for all au [whixh was the au i sent you that ask abt]

alrighty so all might is now midoriya’s dad. that’s a thing. i like to think that inko and toshinori were high school sweethearts who broke up after graduation but met again when all might was called to recuse some hostages and inko was one of them!! anywho all might recuses her, they go on a coffee date, realize they’re still in love and start again

they get married and have izuku, who keeps inko’s maiden name [midoriya is now inko’s maiden name bc i do what i want]. he’s the cutest baby who has inko’s green hair, but has one blue and one green eye! [these are /important/] inko and all might talk abt maybe giving izuku all for one when he’s older, but they decide against it bc they don’t know if he’ll have a quirk or not

spoiler!! bitch baby has a quirk!! he gets a quirk that’s so much different than inko’s quirk and !!! ahhh!!! the basic explanation is that all might’s all of one genes mixed and then “corrupt” inko’s like 3 generation quirk-having genes or smth and izu has a very, very complex quirk now. it’s called astron, and astron allows him to fucking astral project into the center of the university and shit chxnc

astron works two different ways: using his blue eye he can project other people into his own personal astral plane and do whatever he wants. while the person’s physical body is still where it was, their mind is in the astral plane. if he uses his green eye, he can project himself to his astral plane and fuck around without consequences!!

[there’s an untold third ability of astron using both of his eyes, but izuku tried doing that when he first got his quirk and immediately fell into a coma for like a month? it was bad and his mind couldn’t handle the stress and dipped lol]

ANYWAY, izuku grows up with a bomb ass quirk and still has his kacchan with him thru his childhood so things are a lot different than canon? the wonder duo are little shitheads together and i love them, they wreck havoc and i love them

i have more ideas for this story but this is all i have for now, codi this is so long i’m sorry i’m blowing up ur inbox 🥺😭

me opening my askbox and seeing the length of this au: holy shit

me reading the actual whole au: HOLY SHIT

AJ I LOVE THIS HIGHKEY!!! I LOVE THE IDEA OF OP DEKU W A FUCKED UP QUIRK JUST TERRIFYING EVERYONE HE COMES ACROSS!!!! heterochromia is SO so good as a character design element and i LOVE THE WAY THIS IS IMPLEMENTED YELLS. I WANNA DRAW THIS SO BAD!!! THIS LOOKS SO COOL

(serious writing/plot below - blood and vomit mention)

oh god and now im imagining deku like. being this extremely feral and annoying lil shit whos extremely powerful and now bakugous got someone on his level so hes a lot more humble as hes growing up but also him and deku are the?? BESTEST OF FRIENDS. and i imagine when bakugou is being a little shit deku just. astral projects him out of his body for a while and apologizes to whoever kacchan yelled at LMFAO---bakugou comes back to his body and is all like “....fucks sake stop doing that”

AND THEN omfgkjfds imagine morally grey deku who does whatever he can to win?? he knew he wouldnt get into UAs hero course fair and square (all might offered him a recommendation but he declined because he wanted to get there on his own with kacchan) because robots didnt have souls he could astral project so he practices his quirks limits like YEARS prior and he tells bakugou about it but never rlly shows him but on the day of the entrance exam?

he shows up. everything goes as normal and he finishes the written exams and then moves on to the practical exam (still seperated from kacchan like in canon) and like. Every one goes dashing forward and deku doesnt really try to beat anyone. He waits until theyre all in the center engaging with robots when he walks to the center of the room.

and he sees the zero pointer in the distance.

“THE ZERO-POINTER’S HERE!” He yells and points at the gigantic mech heading their way. All at once everyone’s heads whip up to catch sight of the robot, enraptured by its sheer size and power. 

As they all look to one direction, Deku makes eye contact with them and smiles.

All at once, every single participant in the area goes limp. Astron throws their souls into the astral plane with little fanfare and everyone watches in awe and annoyance as their bodies uselessly crumple to the ground from the outside. The green-haired boy is suddenly given free reigns of the arena and they seethe as one by one he deactivates or disables robots that were once under their purview.

(What some of the smarter ones notice however, is the way he seems to be leaving some stray 3 pointers untouched... almost as if he was doing the calculations in his head as he goes... on how to ensure the number one spot while others can still score points...?)

One by one however, they start struggling and reaching to reconnect with their bodies. Their gleaming bright souls bob up and down with frenzied energy and Deku feels it. He feels it like itches on his skin and goosebumps that turn into hills that dance up and down his back. He feels it like he feels his limit reaching.

Its still around 10 minutes though before he actually loses control and everyone comes back to their bodies. His quirk times out and almost like its angry, the astral plane takes his body in exchange for the dozens he kept in there. He gets sucked through and passes out while everyone else runs and destroys the remaining bots. It doesn’t matter though, because he knows he’s racked up enough points to stay on top. He lets himself rest and observes the blue-haired tall guy with engines who contemplates carrying Deku’s body to safety.

Until, he sees her.

Just under some rubble and very close to getting crushed by the Zero-Pointer’s foot, Deku spots a brown-haired young girl that he recalls has some kind of floating quirk. He sees as everyone runs past her, prioritizing their own safety instead of hers.

He makes a decision.

Quickly--recklessly, a familiar gruff voice says in his ear--he forces himself back into his body and looks around. He runs to the girl and attempts to dig her out from the rubble before she gets crushed. The robot comes ever closer.

Using the little strength and flexibility he’s learnt from years of sparring with Kacchan, Deku abandons her in favor of climbing up the broken concrete and metal to meet the robot’s visor. He knows he won’t save her by digging her out of there, but by god is he gonna let her get injured without a fight. These robots weren’t designed to kill, but they were designed to destroy.

Focus. Focus and listen to what’s around you, Izu-kun.

The world around him reduces to tunnel-vision and suddenly Deku is face to face with the Zero-Pointer. It stops, as if calculating how to discard of Deku without hurting him severely with its own strength.

Everything has life in it. You only need to focus and look for it.

Izuku Midoriya looks at the robot.

In a whirlwind of blue and green, he reaches inside of himself and searches for life. Cold steel and hard-wired code meet his gaze and he plunges even deeper. 

Focus.

Then all at once, everything in his visions snaps into sudden clarity, like he’s never seen before. He feels everything. Sees Everything. Smells, tastes, hears--and he hears how the metal beneath him bends and groans. He feels how it winces and shudders. He sees it as it opens its maw and its visor bends in a facsimile of eyes, pleading him as if asking how?

The robot beneath him comes to life and stumbles back.

Quickly, he scrambles to the nearest ledge which happens to be a broken support beam. Distantly, he thinks he feels his arm being sliced open on the edge of it and the warmth of blood streaming down his side as he nearly falls. 

“HEY! YOU WITH THE ENGINES!” He hoarsely screams to the still remaining, slack-jawed contestants. “I CAN’T KEEP THE ZERO POINTER DOWN FOR LONG! GO HELP THE GIRL AND TAKE HER TO SAFETY NOW!”

With a sudden burst of energy, the fellow participants start taking others out from the rubble while the blue-haired boy helps the brunette he was protecting earlier. As he watches them clear the rubble to drag her out, he feels a pang.

Who am I? a lost voice calls out. It’s raspy and almost-robotic sounding and only he can hear it. Where am I? What am I?

And Deku’s vision flickers.

In and out, he sees flashes through eyes that aren’t his. He hears voices that are simultaneously faraway and way too close for comfort. The world tugs at the sides of his perspective and a strain is pulling at the back of his head tearing his brain to shreds. He doesn’t know what he’s focusing or straining on, except that its working and keeping the zero-pointer down.

He grits his teeth. “Hurry the hell up! i can’t do this any longer--”

Bursts of pain appear behind his mismatched eyes and he wants to scream so bad and if he were looking any clearer he’d see the way that the zero-pointer thrashes on the ground in time with the pounding on his skull. Bile crawls up the back of his throat and Deku screams.

“SHE’S CLEAR! YOU CAN LET GO NOW, MIDORIYA-SAN.”

Izuku lets go and his vision goes black.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

i’ve got red in my ledger

prompt: broken nose

whumpee: sonny carisi

fandom: law and order svu

hi! here is a second, hopefully better svu fic. i rlly hated how little they focused on what could have been a pretty serious injury in 16x15 so i decided to fix that >:) i hope you enjoy!

“Hey. Hey, what about me?”

“Hey, shut up,” says Nick, closing and locking the cage door. “You made us miss the game.”

Sonny sinks back down onto the bench, pressing the rapidly-melting ice pack back to his face. He isn’t alone in here, surrounded by pimps and johns and who knows who else, but he might as well be. He’d appreciated, at least, the look Fin had given him when Nick had come and taken him away. Like maybe there was something to be a little concerned about, with his definitely broken nose that still hasn’t completely stopped bleeding. 

Like the universe is mocking him, the small bit of paper that’s been doing a fairly decent job of stopping his nose from bleeding too much suddenly shifts, makes his nose itch, and he can’t quite stop himself from sneezing. 

An intense pain radiates outwards from his nose and blood starts pouring much more rapidly down his face, dripping onto the floor. Distantly he hears one of the other people in the cage mutter something, but he’s a bit preoccupied with trying to fix all this. 

The most obvious solution is to pinch his nose shut and lean forwards. The second his fingertips make contact with his nose, though, he’s wincing and pulling them away. That hurts way too much for him to have any hope of doing it for long enough to stop the bleeding. 

He’s at a loss as to what else to do. The only thing he has on him is the ice pack, which isn’t going to do much to improve his current issue, and he’s pretty sure nobody else in here has, or is willing to share, anything to help him out. 

So he just sits there, bending his head forwards in the hopes that this will at least do something. He watches drops of his blood hit the concrete floor and wishes - not for the first time - that he’d shut up sooner. 

“Hey,” says a rough voice from above him. Sonny looks up, meets the eyes of a very tall, kind of scary looking guy, and for a second pretends like the man is about to offer him a handkerchief, or a wad of paper towels, or a receipt - anything at all to make this stop. Instead, though, the guy says,

“Quit breathin’ so loud, and quit fuckin’ bleeding all over the place.”

Sonny would like to explain that he can’t exactly stop doing either of those things. He’s breathing loudly because his nose is broken and preventing him from doing it normally - he has to instead breathe through his mouth, as evenly and calmly as he can, inevitably getting blood in his mouth every time he does so. It tastes terrible, intensely metallic and uncomfortably warm.

“I’m serious, man. Knock it the fuck off,” the guy repeats, and Sonny is at a loss. And then a flash of inspiration hits him, and he unbuttons his dress shirt, grateful that he’s not especially fond of it. 

He bunches the shirt up and gently presses his face into it. It hurts, but it stops him from bleeding on the floor and it muffles his breathing, which seems to satisfy the tall scary guy, who ambles back over to the corner he’d been standing in and starts humming to himself. 

Sonny lets out a shuddering breath into the already-ruined fabric of his shirt. When he breathes in, a substantial amount of blood comes with the air, and he just barely manages to stop himself from coughing on it. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s in there. People come and go from the cage and he doesn’t bother to look up - it’s been made painfully clear to him that he is not important right now. He doesn’t disagree completely with that - the success of this operation is a lot more important than a little bit of blood - but he knows his colleagues can see the blood on the floor and the blood rapidly soaking through his shirt and he just really wants to get out of here. 

The door to the cage clangs open for what feels like the hundredth time. “Hey, you,” Nick snaps. Sonny is under no illusions that Nick is talking to him. He muffles a cough into his shirt, bites back a groan of pain due to said cough, and wonders whether it’s possible to bleed out through your nose. 

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you,” Nick says again, and Sonny considers raising his eyes to see if there’s a fight brewing. He doesn’t, but he thinks about it. 

Someone touches his shoulder suddenly, and he jumps, lifting his eyes - but not his head - and coming face to face with someone that he vaguely recognizes from the op. 

“He’s talking to you,” the guy says, and Sonny almost laughs, and then there are footsteps in front of him and he looks up and meets Nick’s eyes. 

A thick torrent of blood pours down the back of his throat with the sudden change in his head’s position, and suddenly he’s choking and every cough sends a dull wave of pain spreading through his face and he can’t breathe and the taste and smell of his own blood is overpowering and sickening and he maybe loses a little bit of time because all of a sudden he’s on his knees and gagging and there’s a sort of ringing in his ears and he’s pretty sure Nick is saying something to him, probably, “don’t you dare puke in here,” but it’s too late for that and god, that hurts, and he can’t quite stop himself from making a noise that definitely falls in the realm of ‘pathetic.’ He feels his face burn and distantly wonders how that’s even possible with the amount of blood he’s surely lost. 

And then Nick is hauling him to his feet and his head is spinning and the blood is again flowing freely down his face, his shirt forgotten in the chaos. Nick half-drags Sonny out of the cage and into Liv’s office, leaving a trail of blood drops across the floor. Nick opens the door without so much as a knock, interrupting a conversation between Liv and Barba.

“Knock, please -” Liv says, but that’s as far as she gets. She stands up quickly, crosses the room and stands smack in front of the two of them, Barba close on her heels. “What’s wrong? Carisi, how long has your nose been bleeding?”

Liv sounds worried, looks worried. Barba, too, looks somewhere in the realm of concerned. Sonny feels slightly gratified by this, like he’s not wrong for thinking this might be serious.

He shrugs in response to her question. “How long have I been in there?” he asks. These are the first words he’s spoken in quite some time, and they’re shaky and taste like blood.

Liv’s worried look grows more worried. “Almost an hour and a half. He needs an ER. Now.” The second part of her comment is addressed while looking at Nick, but it’s Barba who answers.

“An Uber will be here in three minutes.”

“That’s fast,” Nick observes.

Barba shrugs like the speed isn’t impressive. “I ordered it as soon as I saw Carisi. Regardless of how long he’s been bleeding, nobody that looks like that should be anywhere but in an emergency room.”

Sonny wonders, not for the first time, what he looks like. Very bad, evidently. He imagines bruises and swelling and blood and misery and decides that actually, he doesn’t want to know how he looks.

“Are you gonna be okay getting there on your own?” Liv asks Sonny, at the same time that Barba says to Liv, “I’ll go with him.”

“The case -”

“Can be discussed remotely. Unless you’d rather your detective bleed out through his nose in a packed waiting room because I’m not there to push him to the front of the line?”

Sonny resents the implication that he isn’t capable of pushing himself to the front of the line, which, though true (not because he isn’t capable, but because he believes in waiting his turn), is embarrassing to hear said aloud, particularly by the man whom he looks up to a great deal. 

But then Barba carefully pats his arm and says, “let’s go,” and Sonny decides that he’s okay with the embarrassment, because it means that some part of Barba recognizes him, cares about him, even. Sonny thinks knowing that might be almost worth the broken nose.

thanks for reading this! hope you enjoyed :)

[ipatrichor]

Hello, I'm here to talk about your most recent chapter of ablaze. First off it's so good!!! Like oh my, the subtle world building that went on in the first two or three paragraphs! Like hints of 3 (maybe) of his deaths! And the mention of loop of braided twine being linked up to his wards! Which made me realize that magic might be common in the world!

And the way you introduce Wilbur's character is on point!! Like the last two lines of the italics section "And through it all, the persistent thought- I’m sorry. I let you down. I’m sorry.He always wakes up before he finds out who he’s apologizing to, and why." Like you can't do this to me! The fact that when he first died, he felt like he let them down and that that feeling carries over into every (maybe?) life he's had!! And that he feels the need to apologize for disappointing them even thought they would care more about the fact that he died!! Like that hurts!! (in a good way)

And the continuation of him prioritizing others over himself continues!! It took me like two read through until I clocked how messed up this line was " So what if something dark is very obviously hunting him? He hasn’t heard anything to indicate that it’s going after anyone else, so it’s really not a big deal." Like that's the same thing that caused his first death!! The lack of self preservation!!

And this line makes me laugh "He just has shit luck like that, enough so that his friend Fundy once checked if he’d been cursed as a baby or something. He turned up blank on that- Wilbur just has terrible luck, nothing supernatural about it." Specifically the nothing supernatural about it part. Like no there is totally something supernatural about it but it didn't happen when you were a baby, it happend in you first life!

Now on to the theories! First off either the wearing down of his wards is caused by the rest of the SBI or there is an actual dark creature haunting him. If it's the second thing then that might not end so well. Secondly this line "There are reading glasses perched on their nose and a book in their hands, abandoned in favor of watching him with an intensity that prickles the hairs on the back of his neck." Gives me the impression that Techno might know Niki because of a book club. (based off of the meme that the syndicate is more of a book club)

Anyways, I'm looking forward to see Niki in the next? chapter. Sorry for the long ask your fic is just good!

!!!! thank you!! honestly, you don't have to apologize :'' i rlly love hearing what people think, and getting long asks is always a treat ^^

so we get some fun stuff right off the bat ^^ all the things he's dreaming about did happen in his past lives, they're just all jumbled together as dreams tend to be :' the forest bit is from a fair few of his lives (and yes, he's died in forests before), the second thing Sure Does have some Implications, and the bit about metal in his chest is referring to his first death- he was stabbed and left to die.

the bracelet is one of my favorite little tools, lmao :' so it's a bunch of colored string sort of twisted together, and it's like a warning system- the colors of the different strings mean different things relating to the stability of his wards. when they're darker shades it means they're strong and everything is fine, but getting lighter means they're more strained. if a string broke altogether, it would mean that layer of warding was destroyed (obviously a cause for concern, lmao.) and yeah, magic is fairly common! people know about the old gods and stuff, and there are a lot of like- ghosts, and supernatural creatures and whatnot. some are perfectly lovely, and some prey on humans- hence the existence of hunters, who find creatures feeding on humans and stop them, however is necessary

dkbfdjg yeah so the idea there is that (besides his natural self-esteem issues) what he was feeling really strongly at the time of his death kind of,, carried over? so when he was dying, what he was feeling was disappointment in himself for not being better, not being good enough to keep tommy and himself safe. he feels like he let them down and he's sorry bc he knew his death would hurt them, even if he underestimated how much bc again self-esteem issues, and he really wanted to see them one more time so he could say goodbye and apologize for leaving so soon.

YEAH jkgdbfh dw that will be Addressed :' mf has had therapy, but clearly Not Enough because his own safety is still very much an afterthought for him. haha guess what the main sources of character conflict is :''

LMAO YEAH fundy was specifically checking for curses, not looking at souls so :'' he didn't pick up on anything, because he wasn't looking in the right place

those are some interesting theories! i'll tell you now that whatever it is messing with his wards, it's not sbi :) and i mean i did promise a happy ending so it'll end well, but i promise nothing of the middle and almost-end :))

kbfd techno & niki being in a book club is very funny, lmao ^^ i don't think how they met matters to the story, so feel free to headcanon it however you want! :}

[starlightsearches]

Hi there can I please request a Hux x nurse!reader? I just rlly want a lot of fluff bcs I recently rewatched TROS and I felt sad again bcs of hux's fate. Thanks owo

For Good Luck

Of course! IDK if this is as fluffy as you wanted, but I kind of ran with it, and I think that the ending is nice and soft! Hope you like it 😊

Requests are closed for now, but will be opening again very soon ✨

Armitage Hux x Nurse! Reader

Warnings: Language, an injury and some medical care including needles!

“He’s asked for you again,” Tayan says in a sing-song voice, and you look away from him to hide your reaction. It’s no secret—to you or anyone else working in the medbay—that the general prefers you over the others. The real secret is why he prefers you, which is something you’re not really sure about either.

“What’s he here for?” you ask, leaning over the workstation to get a look at the report on the data pad, but he hides it from your view.

“Split lip and a bruised ego,” Tayan says with a shit-eating grin, “do you think you can kiss it better?” He bats his eyelashes in mock innocence, and you shove him in the shoulder, rolling your eyes. You’ve told him before—sworn on your life—that it wasn’t like that, had never even come close to that, and he still wouldn’t believe you. Not that the truth is any more believable.

“How’d it happen?” you ask, changing the subject, still trying to peek at the screen.

“Haven’t you heard?” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you. Tayan, you’ve learned since joining the Finalizer crew, is a terrible gossip. Those words come out of his mouth about as often as he breathes. Only half the information he imparts is actually true, but you don’t hold it against him. It is, after all, very entertaining.

“The Resistance escaped.” His expression darkens, any trace of laughter gone, an unfamiliar hardness set in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, “are you serious?” He doesn’t have to respond. Not even Tayan would joke about something like that.

“The Supreme Leader was livid when he found out,” he continues, expression still grave, “I heard from Mina on the bridge that he threw the general into a wall.”

“Damn,” there’s not much else to say, and your heart breaks for the general, but you hope Tayan won’t see that as silence falls over the two of you for a moment, thinking about what might happen next. It’s times like this that make you grateful you’re not the one in charge.

“I guess the general’s been summoned to the Supremacy,” Tayan continues lightly, restored to his normal self, “but he had to say goodbye to his girlfriend first.” He drags the word girlfriend out like a little boy, and needles you in the side with his elbow when he says it. You flinch away from him, stifling a laugh. A comment like that doesn’t deserve a response, but you sink to his level anyway, flashing him a rude gesture before heading down to the exam rooms.

The prickling excitement begins at the base of your neck, and you force yourself to tamp it down. This is no time for flirting; obviously the general would be upset, and you’d have to be mindful of that. The flirting was mostly one-sided anyways, but occasionally you’d get a glimpse of something different, something softer. You lived for those glimpses.

When you first began working as a medbay attendant on the Finalizer, the general was essentially a myth. You never saw him, but you heard enough from the others to know that he didn’t like the medbay, and any time he was forced to come, well . . . everyone had a horror story, it seemed, and they all loved repeating them when shifts got slow. Personally, you had a hard time believing that the general could really be that bad, but that didn’t mean you had been excited when that asshole, Dr. Hebbit, had told you that it was your turn to perform the general’s quarterly check-up.

You had been certain that the others were playing a joke on you after the appointment. The general had been a model patient; the check up went smoothly as he obliged each of your requests without a word. When you finished, he had left with a curt nod, and that was it. The other medbay attendants had lost their shit when you told them that nothing had happened. Everyone had their own theory why the general hadn’t lashed out at you, but Tayan’s line of thinking had definitely been the most popular. Against your will, a little blossom of hope sprung up in your chest. 

Things only got stranger. After that first meeting, the general was in and out of the medbay on a regular basis, always for minor complaints, and always when you were working. You tried not to think too much of it, but that didn’t stop you from lighting up every time you heard that he needed your help.

And then once, just as you were cleaning up, you felt him behind you. Every part of you was on high alert, addicted to the tension but forced to ignore it as you washed your hands. 

“Thank you for your service today,” he said, and one of his hands came forward—still without touching you—fingering a tendril of hair that had slipped out from where you had secured it. He placed it back behind your ear, and you shuddered, tempted to lean back into him—so that you could feel him there, so you would be sure you weren’t hallucinating. And then he was gone. 

Moments like that happened a few more times, and every time they occupied an even larger part of your mind. It was enough to drive you insane, but no matter how much you wanted it, nothing more had happened. That didn’t stop you from imagining what it would be like. 

You clear your mind as you enter the exam room, and there’s a stab of pain in your chest when you see him. He’s never looked this small before, his shoulders slumped as he studies the floor, but you clear your throat to announce your arrival, and his posture straightens.

“Hello General,” you say, adopting your typical bedside manner, “I’m here to take a look at your injury.” He nods, watching you with careful eyes as you scrub your hands and then put on a pair of exam gloves. There’s already a supply tray set up by the exam table, and you glance over it quickly, checking to make sure that you have everything that you’ll need. Once you’re sure that it’s all in order, you can get started.

“I’ll need to take a closer look,” you say, gently taking the general’s jaw into your hands with a glass-delicate grip, and he opens his mouth obediently so that you can see the wound. It’s a small gash on the inner corner of his mouth, dripping a steady stream of blood down his chin and onto his neck, and you catch yourself thinking about cleaning it off with your tongue.

Gross, you scold yourself, rolling your eyes, heat rising in your cheeks. That needs to stop.

“Something wrong?” the general asks, the muscles of his jaw flexing under your hands, and you stiffen in surprise.

“No, sir,” the words come out rushed, and you look away, hoping he can’t tell how embarrassed you are, “just something in my eye.” It’s a weak excuse, but he doesn’t question it, and you grab a wipe, clearing off the blood with gentle precision. He smells like mint, and antiseptic, and the coppery sting of blood—none of which you particularly like—but now you think it might be your new favorite combination. 

“The good news is that it's relatively small,” you continue, applying a little pressure to the wound to staunch the flow of blood, “but the bad news is that you’ll probably need at least one stitch to keep it closed. I’d use bacta, but I don’t think it will work very well in such a moist environment.” You cringe inwardly; it’s strange to talk about the general’s mouth, especially when you have a finger inside of it, but if he’s bothered, it doesn’t show. And if he likes it, that doesn’t really show either. 

“I can get a doctor to do it, if you’d prefer,” you offer, out of habit. You’d given plenty of stitches working the medbay, but most people were a little less trusting when you had a needle in their face. Still, the sharp sting of jealousy bites at your heart. You’d come to think of the general as your patient, and you’re not really interested in sharing.

“That’s not necessary,” he says, and you relax only for a moment before you’re tense again at the thought of getting that much closer to the general’s mouth.

“This will hurt,” you say, and the general nods. "Do you want anything for the pain?" Another shake of the head, and you thread the needle.

He shivers when you turn back, glancing at the needle out of the corner of his eye, but you don't think it's from fear. Gently, and with more feeling than you’d like, you stroke your thumb over his bottom lip, and they part once again. You get closer, adjusting yourself between the general’s legs so that you can have a better view of the area. It’s not strictly necessary, but it does improve your view just enough to be worth it.

You hold the general’s lip down with one hand, and approach with the needle in the other. Just as you’re about to break the surface of the skin, he stops you, gripping your wrist with one gloved hand. You practically jump out of your skin, the movement startles you so badly, and it’s only by sheer luck that you keep hold of the needle. He studies the inside of your arm, completely ignoring the confusion in your expression, and thumbs the edge of your glove away, exposing the veins right at the bend where your wrist meets your hand. He pulls your wrist closer, like he’s going to bite you, but instead he presses his soft lips to the exposed area, and your vision blurs around the edges. The blood rushes from your head, and your pulse explodes under the contact. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you when you feel the faintest trace of his tongue run over your skin, but he grips your wrist more tightly, holding you up. 

Your face is on fire when he finally returns your gaze, and although his expression is calm and untroubled, there’s a blaze beneath it. He wants you. He’s made that perfectly clear.

“For good luck,” he says, releasing his grip, and you’re shaking, your mind gone hazy from the unexpected turn of events. How’re you going to pull a needle through his skin now? You close your eyes and take a few grounding breaths, waiting for the blood to return to your normally-steady fingers, but it’s difficult when you’re still thinking about his mouth.

By some miracle, you’re able to gain control once again with a superhuman amount of determination and the strict directive to avoid eye contact at all costs. Once you’ve accomplished that, the actual stitching is fairly easy, and you tie it off with a quick flourish.

“All done,” you say, dropping the needle on the tray and removing your gloves. Even though your hands are steady, your voice still shakes, and you’re not ready to look at him just yet. “Just make sure you don’t smile for a few days.” He snorts in response as he stands, and you scold yourself. Of course he wouldn’t be smiling. Not where he was going.

Thinking about it again brings the feeling of a knife blade to your heart. He would be leaving, this is the last time you’d see him in a long time, maybe forever. Another stab of pain arrives; that was why he finally made his desires clear. He knew this was his last chance.

“General, wait-” you call out, but to your surprise, he hasn’t left yet. In fact, he’s still right behind you, like he was waiting for this moment. The determination you had moments ago withers slightly and you find yourself looking up through your eyelashes, suddenly shy.

“Yes?” he asks, like he always knew you’d end up here, and you raise your hand, emboldened, fitting it behind his neck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, closing the gap. You press your lips gently to his, hoping to preserve the stitch, but the general doesn’t seem to care about that as he holds your face in both his hands, hunger apparent in every movement, need laid out before you. You know the stitch has to be pulling at the tissue, threatening to pop, and you taste the blood as his tongue meets yours, but all of it is so far outside your realm of concern right now. He’s kissing you back. Finally.

You part from him, reluctantly, as he pulls away from you, hoping for just one moment more. You know you’re doe-eyed when he looks at you, already cursing the heat in your cheeks, wishing you could be less-obviously enamored. Hating how much you care. The general looks indifferent, to your disappointment, there’s no trace of his visit to the medbay visible at all. Like you never existed. Moments ago you were rippling with happiness and now you’re left empty.

“I’m leaving for the Supremacy,” General Hux says, adjusting the perfect fit of his uniform, and you nod quickly. The sooner he leaves, the better. You don’t want him to see you cry. The traitorous tears come anyways, and you turn away from him, clearing off the supply tray and hoping he won’t notice. The act works so well, you almost don’t hear his next words. “I’d like for you to come with me, transfer to the medbay there.” You look at him again in surprise, and you see it: the softness he had only barely begun to show, there in full force.

“Do you anticipate needing much medical care, General?” You’re not sure if you mean it as a joke or if you’re searching for some kind of validation, but either way the general doesn’t laugh. No, instead he steps closer once again, tilting your gaze to meet his with a hand on your chin.

“No,” he says, “I just don’t want to go alone.” The reason doesn’t matter. You already know you’ll follow him anywhere.