#worst person u ever know made a great point

[scuderiafemboy]

“these two will fight forever; a prophecy” ❤️‍🩹

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Teaching a Siren to read is perhaps the best or worst idea that you've ever had. If only you were half as capable of reading between the lines.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

‘U-G-L-Y’

“Wow,” you drawled. “What a wonderful use of your new talents.”

The fish you were cooking landed upside down on the hot stone with a crackling sizzle of skin that you could feel as a jumping prickle of heat all along your arm. You poked at your impromptu stovetop with your impromptu stick-spatula and prepared your impromptu leaf-plates. A true culinary connoisseur, you were. When you were rescued, you were going to argue to Riddle that you deserved a promotion to the kitchens. Though, apparently not everyone appreciated your talents.

‘UGLY’ the Siren poked again, jabbing his talon into the sand.

“Then bring me prettier fish,” you returned, pointed. “It’s not that hard.”

His sharp, black claws came up to point at you next alongside his wonderful, two-syllable insult. Then back to you again, with four fingers this time. Both hands going for it. There was a tight, irritated expression on his face that you refused to call a pout because firstly, surely this vicious king of the seas could never pull something so childish. And secondly, because in these past few days you’d developed a terrible habit of just chattering each and every one of your thoughts aloud. And if you called him bratty, or dared imply such pouting was coming from his regal visage, you were just setting yourself up to get drenched by his flailing tail all over again.

“You can’t hurt my feelings,” you said, bland. “Ugly is the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”

He huffed and smacked his fins against the sand. The trailing, dark tips cracked against your leg and you kicked him right back. It didn’t actually hurt, no more than a pinch to the side, but you’d spent enough time with this asshole now that not fighting back like a toddler pitching a tantrum wasn’t an option anymore.

Just over two weeks, now. Fifteen days and counting.

Those first few days had been spent in a nervous, prey-like panic, of course. Watching him circle the bay with his shredded fins, crying at the top of his lungs until your goosebumps had goosebumps. And then you’d helped untangle him from the mess you’d made, delicately working salt-brined twine away from weeping wounds. Sure, there’d been that whole hoopla of him pinning you in the sand after your act of Great Chivalry and promptly threatening to rip your throat out with his teeth, but you’d moved past that. The offering of home-cooked meals had softened his scaly hide, and then the even greater move of handing him your species’ alphabet like some great, guarded secret of old had sealed the deal. Cheers all around. It’d only taken you nearly being eaten, disemboweled, and drowned, but you’d made peace with your roommate. What a success story.

And now instead of trying to murder you, he just called you U-G-L-Y.

So, you know, baby steps.

The thin, pointed end of his tail whipped up from where you’d kicked him to twine around your ankle and give a sharp tug that had you sprawling face first into the sand with an oomph. Your great tumble sent all those pretty letters of his scattering in the breeze, and you spat out a mouthful of grit.

“Here’s a new one for you,” you chirped, digging your fingers into the muck. F-U-C-K—Y-O-U.

The Siren yowled, which you’d come to recognize far too well as a prickle along your nape and that forever echoing tug, tug, tug somewhere in your head that could never return the call with its corresponding answer. His tail flailed out again to smack at your hands. It was thick, and scaly, and all smooth, powerful muscle. The fact that he hadn’t crushed your poor fingers into a sad, bony paste by now beneath its wrath was a miracle. If you were a more optimistic person, you’d say he was being extra gentle with you on purpose. But even you weren’t delusional enough to think he liked you that much.

“Okay, okay,” you grouched, spitting out another mouthful of pebbles. “Fine. Just not around the food. Unless you want to have to go hunting for dinner all over again.”

The Siren huffed, rolling his eyes like it was a professional sport, and settled himself prettily back against the butt of his tail like he’d never even tried to beat you to death with his fins at all.

You sighed and pulled yourself back out of the sand, scrubbing it from your salt-sticky skin as best as you were able. You returned to poking at your fish. They weren’t too terribly singed, despite your distraction. And the Siren seemed to like the edges extra crispy either way, so it wasn’t any kind of loss. You were in the middle of balancing your impromptu stick-spatula against another impromptu stick-spoon to try and flip the fish without destroying it entirely when you felt a gentle poke, poke, poke against your arm.

You looked back and the Siren stared down at you, lips canted in a sharp smirk that was all pride.

U-G-L-Y—A-N-D—S-T-U-P-I-D, the sand said.

He’d been struggling with applying the whole -pid noise to the proper lettering, because of how similar it was to -ped. And the spelling had been tripping him up (with much obvious frustration) for the last day or so.

“Well done,” you sighed, not even too terribly upset that it had taken you months in Riddle’s impromptu classrooms to learn what he was picking up over the course of a few, harried sessions delivered with broken bits of sharp sticks and an ever changing canvas. “Try this.”

You scribbled another message in the sand. An insult, naturally, because he seemed to like those. You sounded out the letters as you hopped the tip of your finger over them one-by-one, and the Siren stared down at the inscription with the sort of intense focus meant for ancient tomes or sacred texts. You watched his lips move silently as he sounded it out alongside your mini-lesson, and then he was reaching forward to trace over the letters with the curved tip of a claw—knuckles bumping yours for a moment before shooing your hand away.

You returned to your dinner—finishing up the poor, murdered fish as best as you could and doling it out as usual. You reached out to hand pretty boy his leaf-plate, which he took like a lord accepting a meal from a lowly servant. All upturned noses and pointed disinterest. He set it beside him and nibbled on the offering as he continued to study the new task you’d given him—grand, purple fins splayed out at his sides to brush against your hip like a habit. And this was your life now, apparently. Sitting and frying lazy, shallow water fish over a heated stone while your Siren student studied curse words in the sand. If you managed to survive this, no one would ever believe you.

.

.

The wrecked ship called to you like, well, did you even have to say it.

(It felt like a low hanging pun at this point. You’d never be able to use the expression again for as long as you lived without thinking of narrowed, purple eyes nearly rolling up into the back of a too pretty head because you were apparently that annoying.)

Every day when you ventured towards the western side of the islet to feed your teeny, round octopus friend, you couldn’t help but sit and stare at the shattered hull. It’s not like it was in any sort of shape to actually get you off your little, sandy prison, but it was… There was something about it that was familiar enough to scratch an itch in your brain, but just alien enough that figuring out what was itching was outright impossible.

Silver songbirds.

‘Not safe,’ the Siren had demanded, with an almost frantic look to him. Not safe.

Every time you tried to venture closer to get a better look, it was like he could feel it. And he’d be pacing the shoreline like a blood-frenzied shark—rattling off muted, angry complaints the whole time that popped against your skin like soda fizz. So, lesson learned. Keep away.  

It was a particularly sweltering afternoon today. Not a cloud in the bright, blue sky and nary a breeze to be seen. Sweat was beading unpleasantly along your brow and all down your back, and you hated it. At least on the Rose Queen there had been shade. And the lower decks of the ship submerged in the waves had always felt at least a little chilled. You could practically feel the damp, cool wood against your cheek. The smell of salt and pine oils in your nose. But here, on this stupid not-island with its barren trees and nothings, you just had to suffer in silence. The memories of your ship had you thinking of the washed up Songbird all over again, and you were in the middle of a heated, internal debate over making a swim for it again when something cold rained down over your face in small, scattered droplets.

You blinked back into focus to see Mister Merman at your ankles. You’d been sitting with your heels in the water, but no deeper. Because the shallows were still his territory, and while he hadn’t tried to hold you under in a while now, it was hard to forget something like that so easily. You didn’t really want to chance it if a foul mood struck him, no matter what sort of fragile truce seemed to exist between the pair of you lately.

Last you’d looked he’d been sunning himself on one of the wide, flat rocks—as he was wont to do. Lavender-tipped hair splayed out along his cheeks in a pool of soft gold and fins spread at his hips like the finest, plum silks. How he never seemed to burn with that delicate, ivory skin of his you had no idea. Maybe it was a Magical, Mystical, Merman perk yet undocumented. Or maybe he was just Like That. But he’d been snoozing away on his favorite boulder, and now he had rolled in with the tide to lounge by your toes. His fingers were spread, still dripping with sea water from where he’d flicked you in the face. You frowned at him—partly curious, but also pissilly blinking salt out of your eyes that stung, because come on dude.

He flicked more water your way and said something that you couldn’t manage to catch the shape of. When you didn’t respond with anything other than a pointed scrub of the water dripping down your cheeks, he reached out to wrap a clawed hand around your ankle and give a gentle tug.

“What?” you frowned, confused, and he tugged again.

He canted his head towards you, and then out to the cove behind him. He slipped back with the soft, frothy roll of the waves—just a foot or two—and clearly meant to pull you with him. You slid against the sandbar with a yelp and dug your heels into the muck to keep from getting yanked all the way in.

“No way,” you snipped, kicking a mess of water into his face. He didn’t even blink, just frowned down at you with a twisty sort of petulance. “I thought we were over this. If you drown me you won’t get any more cooked food, y’know. And I, in turn, would very much like to not be drowned. Win, win.”

That frown of his went stiff, and his lips twitched down at the corners. His amethyst eyes darted away and for a moment you swore that those gemstone irises flashed with something almost like guilt. He rolled forward with the next curl of surf and pressed a claw into the damp, dark sand at your hip. He scratched out a careful message, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze all the while.

Won’t, it said.

“Forgive me for not believing that,” you returned, dry. “You’re oh-for-two now, I think. And, you know, fool me twice, and all that.” Though maybe the first one didn’t really count, seeing how you were both tangled together and sinking to the bottom in a mutual sort of destruction. But whatever. You were keeping it.

The Siren’s brow pinched in the middle and he reached forward to dig his claws in again.

Accident.

Your own brows jumped nearly to your hairline. You were just about to politely point out that dragging someone to the bottom of the ocean until they were bubbling from the nose and flailing wasn’t really an accident,but then you remembered the startled look on his face. The way he hadn’t stopped you from clawing your way back to the surface and how he’d carefully helped tow you back towards the shore after. And… maybe he hadn’t really meant it. It had to be strange, probably. Being able to thrive so easily below the waves and then be faced with someone who would die if they were left facedown in a puddle.  

“…Fine,” you huffed, and his eyes jumped back up to yours with all cat-in-the-cream smugness. “But just because I’m about to drop from heatstroke. Not because you asked.”

The Siren rolled his eyes at you and returned to dragging you by your ankles into the shallows.

The bay really was very lovely. It was crystalline clear and the sort of brilliant blue that you’d never even known existed until you’d left the land for a life on the open ocean. The sand below your feet was soft and white, with barely any pebbles or broken bits of shell to dig into your toes. You watched a few crabs scurry out of the way as you were led deeper and deeper, but most of the cove’s occupants were spoiled and slow. Unbothered by this weird, fleshy, bipedal creature stepping past because they’d never known anything else. Once you hit waist-deep, the Siren let go of you to sink more fully into the water. He swam around you in a languid, looping circle—plum fins cresting the surface to flick water against your arms and scales shining like polished glass in the sunlight. It was still far too shallow for him to move around in earnest with how massive that tail of his was, and how wide and trailing his great, beta-like fins were, but he was still elegant. Still fast and flexible as he swam rings around you like an orbit.

“Show off,” you scoffed, but couldn’t quite bite back the grin twitching at your lips.

Because creature from the deep trying to devour your crew or not, Sirens really were so impressive, weren’t they? Straight out of a storybook, and deserving of every song and tale attributed to them.

You reached out before you could help yourself to run your fingers along his tail. The scales were smooth, and sleek, and cool against your palm. The wispy ends of his fins caught along your fingers, but other than a bit of a tangle, you almost managed to run your hand along the whole of it. And what was it? Eight feet? Ten? Bigger than you at least, that was for sure. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever felt. No fish, or whale hide, or shark. Something entirely of its own.

You realized on the next loop when your fingers danced over a patch of still healing scales that you’d felt already that he had most definitely realized your err in personal space, and was letting you poke about on purpose. You glanced up, embarrassed and warm faced, to see the tail end of a smirk quirking out from the water’s surface. Preening bastard.

You turned up your nose and waded deeper. There was a ripple in the water around you, like a chuckle, and he returned to his looping circles. Occasionally his tail would brush up against you to get you to jump, but otherwise he kept his hands to himself and—as promised—did not attempt to wrestle you down to the sandy floor and your subsequent watery grave.

Once you’d made it up to your chest, the Siren was able to start his dance in earnest. He darted away to make a wide arc around the edge of the cove—sunshine catching on his scales like a glare on the water. He shot from one end to the other, so fast it was nearly dizzying to try and keep up with. And then he was back to circling your ankles all over again—tangling your legs in his fins and curling his talons against your calves to try and drag you deeper.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, paddling after him until you were well and truly above your head. The bay wasn’t very deep, but there were a few areas that dipped down to at least fifteen feet. So soon enough you were bobbing like a top in the gentle surf as he looped around your idly kicking feet—brushing up along your ankles and tugging at the frayed edge of your shirt with his claws when he passed by.

When he next rose above the surface, you’d already taken in a big mouthful of water in preparation, and shot it right into his face. The Siren’s whole expression shriveled up like a hundred-year-old prune and you laughed so hard he had to curl his tail around your waist to keep you from dipping under the waves and choking yourself. You let him drag you around and only grabbed at his fins a little. He would dive below your feet and you’d sink after him. Not nearly as agile or adept, but competent enough to follow his little game of tag without losing completely within the first few seconds. It was—it was nice. Genuinely. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d swam for the fun of it. Way back when you’d first joined up with Riddle’s crew, maybe. It’d been a hot day, just like this one, and you’d been anchored in a safe, shallow inlet off the coast of an archipelago. Deuce and Ace had jumped in first, already brawling, and you’d dove in soon after. It’d been a mess, and Riddle had nearly hung the three of you up by your toes for it. But it’d been fun. Familial. Warm. Something you’d never forget. And while this moment didn’t feel entirely like that one had, there was something similar about it. Sure, you weren’t trying to give the Siren a bloody nose and there were no rock wars, but it was… well, it was nice.

By the end of it, he was swimming lazy, looping shapes around the cove, and you were being dragged alongside him like a raft—kept afloat by the curling press of his tail and relaxing in the afternoon sunshine with the cool ripples of the ocean water to keep you both comfortable in the heat.

“Do you do this a lot?” you asked, as you relaxed in the gentle lull of the surf. “With your pod, I mean.”

The Siren stiffened beneath you, but after a moment he nodded. Slow and rigid. Which—

Oh. Right.

“…sorry,” you mumbled, gaze darting away.

Because he was missing his family just as much as you were missing yours, wasn’t he?

All that frantic pacing at the start of your mutual stranding had just seemed to… fade away as the days passed. He would still circle the entrance of the cove some mornings, singing towards the skies and tilting his head—fins pricked as he searched for an answer. You’d feel it in your nerves, see the gulls overhead dipping in a trance and watch the crabs crawl up onto the sand like they were being dragged out by their little claws. But most of the time now he just… didn’t. He spent his days mumbling over the letters you showed him, or carefully preening over his healing fins and resting in the sun. Catching fish for you to prepare and roast, and taking his meals at your side as you both snipped at each other with sandy curse words. It was pleasant, this routine you’d fallen into together. But all the same, he never really stopped checking the ocean waters. And you could see a spark in his eyes, an itch. The same one that lit yours, no doubt, every time you caught yourself squinting for the outline of ships on the horizon.

The difference between the two of you, of course, was that in a few more days his scales would be healed enough to face the dangers of the open water alone. Life as a rogue mer was notoriously perilous. The lone Sirens were those that poachers were willing to risk battle with for a trophy. They were the ones caught in fishing nets, and found mauled by rival pods. But your Siren was smart. He was big, and strong, and impressive. He’d find a way to survive it, no doubt. One morning you’d wake up and he’d have darted off into the deep to search for his family. To go home. And you…

You would still be trapped here.

Alone.

Forever.

Rotting under the sun with no one to take you swimming in the afternoons. Or bring you clawed up fish to cook for dinner. Or to use your writing lessons just to insult you with scribbled words in the muck.

Which—that was what you’d wanted, wasn’t it? At the start of all of this.

And it was only fair, in the end. He was the better of the two of you, after all. Born and bred to thrive in the depths of the sea that would swallow you whole without a thought. And if either of you was going to survive, to find your home again, it was always going to be him. Maybe you’d be a story, like he would have been for you. The strange human with no ears, just like the rest of the pirates whispered about. Who taught him that fire could make fish extra tasty and that leaves could make perfectly serviceable plates if you tried hard enough.

You sighed, and bubbles of salt water frothed along your mouth.

The Siren raised his head from his own lazy sprawl to arch a brow at you in question, and you did the very mature thing of spitting water in his face all over again.

You ended up being dragged through the cove in a flurry of spitting, Siren rage. Laughing and laughing until he huffed and hauled you back to shore to keep you from swallowing any more seawater like the idiot that you were. And it was fine, really it was. He wasn’t so bad, not really. And if he was able to reunite with his pod once more after all those days of hollow wailing and pacing, pacing, pacing that had made something deep in your soul itch like a freshly scabbed wound that you just couldn’t stop picking, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad ending after all.

.

.

The next afternoon while you were out on your daily Octopus Wellness Check, you came across a piece of pale, purple sea glass mixed into the rocky shore. It was smooth to the touch and frosted over by the endless tumble of the tide. You held it up to the light and it sparkled just like the Siren’s scales.

“What do you think?” you asked the octopus as it grabbed shredded bits of fish with its chubby, little tentacles. “Do you want it? Or should I give it to—”

You blinked, startled, and realized all at once that you’d never learned the Siren’s name. Or given him yours. You’d just sort of been calling each other a variety of derogatory pseudonyms and hoping for the best. Which, huh. You hadn’t even realized you’d wanted to know his name. It wasn’t yours to take, of course. Let alone from someone who would no doubt be leaving so soon. But it was a thought.

“You always give the best advice, you know,” you told the teeny creature, and it hid from you like you were a great, looming monster of old. “Whether you meant to or not. Thanks for that.”

So on the way back to your cove, you picked through some tufts of beachgrass to find the longest, driest spikes. You began winding them together as you walked, and settled down in your favorite little corner of the inlet to continue your weaving. The Siren, naturally—being as nosy as he was—was immediately hovering over you like a child watching someone hold a bag of sweets just out of reach. You clutched your little project to your chest like a secret, and it had him puffing up in irritation and smacking his fins against your sides like your refusal to share whatever had caught your attention was a crime beyond comparison. He arched up as tall as he could to try and peer over your shoulder, and, in failing at that, just outright tried to snatch the thing from your hands.

“I won’t give it to you if you keep being a pest,” you warned, and immediately he was slipping back to rest on his stomach in the damp sand with a starbright curiosity in his eyes, chin pillowed atop his interlaced fingers and gaze following the movements of your hands like a cat tracking a mouse in its hole. Clearly the promise of it being a treat for him was mollification enough to keep him from hovering.

Once you’d braided a sturdy enough chain, you carefully twined it around the sea glass in a little, crisscrossing cage of fibers. Just knotted enough to keep the ocean-worn trinket safe and in place without hiding the shine of it. With that, you held up your trophy with a dramatic wave, and the Siren was popping up all over again. His amethyst glare tracked the swinging pendant with startling focus and a surprisingly wide-eyed spark of confusion.

“Here,” you said, reaching out to drop the makeshift necklace into his lap. He caught it in his claws, eyes still far too round with shock. “It made me think of your scales. I thought you might like it.”

He was staring down at the gift in utter silence. And not the normal sort of quiet either—where your broken eardrums simply refused to pick up on all his petulant grousing against your person. This was actual silence. His lips were parted like they were caught on a breath, but he wasn’t saying anything. Not even a complaint about how plain and ugly it was. He curled his claws daintily around the woven chain, as if he was afraid of tearing right through it with an accidental prick, and then held the sparkling bauble aloft like he was utterly entranced by the soft gleam of it.

After a long, long moment of that near eerie silence and a pool of dread filling your belly that screamed you’d clearly fucked up in some way (overstepped some weird, Siren tradition. Accidentally insulted his father. Handed him a bad luck omen on a string. Something), the Siren was twisting around to show you the back of his neck. He held up the woven chain so it draped along his shoulder blades, and he pointedly shook the ends at you.

When you just gaped back in shock, he turned to sneer over his shoulder at you and jabbed a claw at his throat, then the necklace, then you, then his throat again. Which, oh. Oh! That—that you could do.

So you reached out to pluck the ends of the grass-woven thread from his talons and he immediately shifted around again to make himself comfortable. Curling his tail firmly against the sand with his plum-lined fins spread out in all their glory like a spill of purple ink along the shoreline. He set his shoulders square and firm, and looked straight ahead with that same, queer sort of focus to him as before.

You tied the ends of the necklace in a bow against his nape, making sure it was securely fastened in place and not snagging any of the softer, shorter hairs at the back of his neck. Once it’d been fussed with to his liking, he turned back around and stared you down until you could feel goosebumps prickling up all along your spine. You wanted to meekly tell him that it was just sea glass. Just a little trinket you’d found in the sand that you’d thought was pretty enough that he might like to have it. But the words died on your tongue. They felt wrong somehow. And you’d put your foot in your mouth plenty of times throughout your life, but this definitely felt like it would have been the biggest boot of all.

“…You like it?” you tried instead, because that sentiment at least seemed less like something that was ready to clog up your throat.

The Siren nodded, firm, his eyes still drilling into yours with that unnerving level of focus.

You coughed into your fist and awkwardly attempted to shift away to give yourself a bit of room, and—Huh. When had his tail come up to wrap around your leg? That made running away a bit inconvenient. You’d just have to try and wriggle your way out and hope he would take mercy on your far inferior musculature, and—

There was a poke at your hip. Tap, tap, tap. One, two, three. And you glanced back up at him with a pinched frown, confused.

The Siren pointed to a scrawl in the sand. Tap, tap, tap.

Acceptable.

You gawked, and then swallowed a laugh so fast it nearly choked you. Because he was still himself, wasn’t he? No matter what. Sassy, asshole fish. Gods, you were going to miss him.

You wiped at the bubbling, giggling tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and reached out to pat at his tail in good humor.

“I hope you find your happy ending,” you beamed, and meant it.

The Siren just looked at you with one of his familiar, lemon-sour puckers. He pointedly reached up to flick at the necklace around his throat, like that had anything to do with him finding his family again at all. Like it wasn’t just some silly trinket you’d gifted him in hopes that maybe one day he could look back fondly on the little human that he’d found himself stranded with. To not just forget you outright. To make your fleeting presence in his life something tangible, rather than just a mess of already fading scars and memories that would too easily be swept away in the depths of the sea.

“At least it’s acceptable,” you said finally around your giggling, and he huffed at you in a way that almost looked fond. You stood from the sand and brushed the mess of grit and salt off your pant legs. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner and I’ll teach you some nicer words tonight. So you can give me a real compliment next time.”

There was spray of water all along your back from where he’d no doubt dove back into the shallows behind you and walloped you with his fins to the best of his ability. And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be bothered by it at all.

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

@novaloptr, @imlost-sendhelp, @matcha-berry @preciosayorgullosa @whoretaglia, @kookygirlwholikescookiesandcoke, @nanauedorian, @trixeraptops, @voxnipop, @starkling25, @thedum1, @horcrux-alchemist, @sleepykitty21, @apathicace, @instantregret101, @nekanecorvus, @looney-mori, @re-ducing, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @naughtybodypillow, @rendy-a, @carmen-404, @candy284, @thealiennamedterry, @their-name-is-fake, @huetolog, @glacticrose, @seraphinariddle, @rabioa, @sn00zl4x, @dreasimping, @jeidoreech, @ai-dev, @galaxyshine24-7, @fatally-incorrect, @juulranch, @camrastuff, @nocteetdie, @stargaryengirl, @warmsmilesandhugs, @01paige01

[ai3xx0]

some additional info about jack deenar (moral orel oc) for those who are interested

he was originally born in sinville but moved to moralton after he was told there weren't many hospital staff in it, and that the staff that WAS there had been insanely incompetent (millie fakey told him, they're good friends)

as for personal relationships, he dislikes nearly every person in moralton and thinks moving there was the worst mistake of his life, but he's staying for the sake of helping those in need properly and because he'd feel bad leaving those he connected with, knowing how terrible the entire town is (and he doesn't have the money to leave yet)

as for examples of people he does like...

he's good acquatiances with nurse bendy (naturally),

somewhat friends with stephanie (orel told him all about her and said he thought they'd be great friends, accidently stumbled into the shop at one point),

doesn't mind danielle too much and gives him credit for being the only honest and open asshole in moralton,

good with kids and doesn't blame them for most of their actions, tries to subtly push them in the right path (they do tend to annoy him sometimes),

just feels bad for roger papermouth (goes out drinking with him sometimes and lets him cry out his sorrows, he's a good listener)

did meet dr. chosenburg at one point, finds him pleasant (says "of course he's a good guy, he isn't from moralton")

good acquatiances with scott richman (another oc, met him from his frequent visits to the hospiral)

also good acquatiances with michael curington (ANOTHER oc, told him why he's moving to moralton, michael moved shortly after he did (medical field buddies))

I'd like to think that orel finding out men can be nurses too sparked an interest in medical care for him, and eventually lead to orel himself becoming a nurse

jack has witnessed most of orel's "bigger" injuries and hospital visits which lead to him despising clay for letting the kid harm himself and letting him get harmed the way he did, which includes all the times orel was brought back to life and his injuries after the camping trip. jack was on monitoring duty for most of the visit and got some insight on what happened during the camping trip which just made him hate clay even more

jack isn't really the best guy ever but at least he's better than most people in moralton -- he has a "black and white" way of thinking, but he can't let his actual feelings slip through. he acts nice and plays along with whatever nonsense they spout, and only ever "snaps" (tells them off) when he just can't bear to litsen anymore (frequently expresses his feelings toward clay in his face)

i think this is an obvious self insert except i made him hate clay instead of loving him because like realistically he wouldn't know anything about that dude that could redeem/explain any of his actions, he just sees an innatentive and immature "father" who drinks himself half to death and harms his kid ( and/or lets his kid harm himself) any chance he gets

thanks for reading to those who did (excuse any spelling or grammar errors i made this in a rush and english isn't my first language) (also I'm very very very sorry if any of this is out of character for the already established characters ummmm okay)

if u want to know more about him like and subscribe and hit that bell or if u want to know more about my other 3 moral orel ocs feel free to send an ask

banger art is on the way

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 10/8/2024

The Boy is out of my house. end of an era. formally adopt the boy for only twenty of god's own dollars here!

listening

i really really love reading perfume reviews and i would love to start describing songs like a perfume reviewer but maybe this song is not a great one to start out with: the ghost inside by broken bells, off their 2010 self-titled album. it got stuck in my head bc it is sort of the ur-example of 2010s indie rock. you have to listen to it but after you listen to it you know i am Right. kind of a bonkers scifi music video with mostly practical effects and actress christina hendricks (interview here).

thank u spotify weekly recommended playlist bc i had completely forgotten about broken bells. i think i found them through one of those little music cards starbucks used to give out?

-

reading

The Blood Trials (Book One of the Blood Gift Duology, Jan 2023) by N.E. Davenport. i KNOW i originally put this on my holds list bc of a tumblr post but i cannot find that post again.

explaining the plot of this book to my best friend involved saying the phrase "and then THE BLOOD EMPEROR" a lot. there is no short way to explain the plot of this thing.

Blending fantasy and science fiction, N. E. Davenport’s fast-paced, action-packed debut kicks off a duology of loyalty and rebellion, in which a young Black woman must survive deadly trials in a racist and misogynistic society to become an elite warrior. It’s all about blood. The blood spilled between the Republic of Mareen and the armies of the Blood Emperor long ago. The blood gifts of Mareen’s deadliest enemies. The blood that runs through the elite War Houses of Mareen, the rulers of the Tribunal dedicated to keeping the republic alive. The blood of the former Legatus, Verne Amari, murdered. For his granddaughter, Ikenna, the only thing steady in her life was the man who had saved Mareen. The man who had trained her in secret, not just in martial skills, but in harnessing the blood gift that coursed through her. Who trained her to keep that a secret.

this is a "graduate or die" book that i would normally say is YA but the protagonist Ikenna is ~20ish and there are two quite explicit sex scenes. so i feel it veers more new adult? what if you learned to be an ancient greek spartan praetorian but also had blasters? that's what this school is.

this is a military scifi that is also a murder mystery (HELL of a dense concept to pick for a debut novel) that gets SO yuckydisgusting with loving descriptions of military training wounds and a cannibalism scene (not by our protagonist) i had to skip over. i think this would be terrific for locked tomb girlies but it is at the bleeding edge of my tolerance level. i am a noted big baby about gore, so ymmv.

tumblr user kay, why the fuck did you keep reading it? one of the best technically written debut novels i've ever read. extremely compelling in how the narration is from Ikenna’s point of view and she has almost all the murder mystery pieces but fails to put them together bc of personal flaws and foibles. and she is so good at tripping face first over those flaws and foibles it really effectively distracts you from the pieces of the murder mystery! she’s so so so good at making the worst possible decision (in hindsight) at any given point. all her decisions have complex hidden downsides but at the same time she could not have made any different decision. failsafes her grandfather put in place fail bc of the way she interprets them. she is a very good soldier but less good as a strategist. terrible as a politician. this sort of thing.

she is quick to act and quick to decide, and allies and enemies flip fairly quickly without much hemming and hawing. once she has definite proof of betrayal or alliance, she accepts it and charges on. i think the occasionally flimsy lead up to these flips is one of the book’s weaknesses, but i also think it’s one of Ikenna’s major weaknesses. im not convinced the author handles doling every clue out or how the very complex political situation clicks together Well, but Ikenna’s reaction and dealing with the fallout of these things is very believable and well done.

VERY rapid pace— reminds me of The Hunger Games, where Suzanne Collins’ background in TV helped her know when to break chapters. there aren’t any lulls where I lost interest— i read this book in basically one sitting overnight.

-

watching

meandering through a playlist of oscar-nominated shorts: the 1951 UPA black comedy musical film noir short "Rooty Toot Toot" has been one of my favorites so far.

it's so hyperstylized and so gleefully minimalist. the background characters, even though they are mostly just blobs and circles, are notably diverse for 1951. let's yoink some more background from the description/TCM:

Hubley brought in a number of interesting collaborators on Rooty Toot Toot. Dancer Olga Lunick was hired to choreograph the ballet-style dance moves. There was no rotoscoping involved; her moves were only referenced by the artists and animators, not slavishly traced. Paul Julian designed the backgrounds and utilized some non-typical techniques; in his essential history of UPA, When Magoo Flew: The Rise and Fall of Animation Studio UPA (Wesleyan, 2012), Adam Abraham quotes Julian on one of them: "'I found a kind of oddly corroded gelatin roller - an ordinary print roller that had been pitted and pocked in some way, chemically.' With this device, he produced distressed-looking backgrounds that suited the sordid tale." In addition, Hubley and the studio brought on jazz musician Phil Moore to write the score. Moore had done orchestrations for many MGM musicals in the 1940s, but uncredited--this would be a rare on-screen credit for the black musician. Legendary animator Grim Natwick also joined the crew. Natwick had been active since the silent era and had designed and animated Betty Boop for the Fleischer Studios. He went on to work on such key films as Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and Gulliver's Travels (1939). For Rooty Toot Toot Natwick animated the memorable shots of Nellie Bly on the witness stand.

-

playing

i don't have anything fun to say about genshin this week. prepare for me to lose my mind next week about hot ocelot lady.

-

making

sanitized/enzymatic cleaned everything orange boy touched in my office and the office bath, bc he was so full of love and also worms and boysmell. i believe the stink has been defeated, but only time and the girls will tell me. unforch, i will have to sanitize and destink the bathroom Again at the end of the month bc a new outside boycat will be recovering here after his neuter. this time i am Not paying for it and he already has a home lined up! it is a complicated case with a friend's exit from a Situation and it is not fully mine to tell. can't believe this office and office bath have been like a revolving door of cats this summer/fall. phil only got fulltime house privileges at the end of june-ish.

[iamred-iamyellow]

ok this is very random (as im not sure how much of an ls2 defender u r)

BUT

every new thing that James bitchass stanky dummy shitty Vowles says abt the Logan situation just pisses me off more. makes me even wonder how logan dealt w everything for as long as he did.

Swear if Logan wasnt backed by Duracell and all the other US companies that bring in sm bank, Vowles would have dropped him even without meeting Franco...

Logan might have underperformed but his car isnt good to begin with, strategy was practically a DIY youtube video every fucking race weekend and not to mention that out of what 10-12 races his teammate has only managed to score 6 points...(no saying Albon is bad at all just goes to show that even a decent driver cant do shit in that fucking half charged golf cart 😒)

As a CS55 girlie im praying for the best for Carlos and that the team figures itself out over the new year break bc the way things r going i wouldnt be fucking suprised if Carlos opted to race for another team or just become a reserve driver after one year w bitchass Williams.

Truly a shame that a driver with such potential (LS2) and an excellent teammate and great driver with consistency (CS55) have ever had to deal with James stanky Vowles ( even tho Vowles is a D1 national level Sainz glazer 😭😭)

UGHHHHH i just know next year is gonna b...interesting to say the least.

Praying for Franco too 🥺💯 I've really come to like him so far after Monza and think he has great things in store and can rlly prove himself too 😞🩷

How it feels being BOTH a LS2 and CS55 gal btw;

as an american i think im obligated by law to be a ls2 defender 🫡🦅🇺🇸

“strategy was practically a DIY youtube video every fucking race” TRUTH!!! 

i will forever be a defender of our four williams babies alex carlos franco and logan because they were dealt some fuckass cards 

i just cannot believe that logan didn’t have enough time to develop in f2 and williams didn’t even TRY to give him more opportunities to train during his f1 seasons. they literally tossed him in a car and said GO they set him up to fail and then got mad that he didn’t exceed their expectations 

don’t even get me STARTED on the comments james made about mick i am PERSONALLY offended omg 

i��m really gonna miss franco at the end of the season but i hope he gets more opportunities from what he’s proven he can do in f1

and speaking of carlos his journey is just one that ends up being really sad for me. he jumps from team to team and proves himself EVERY TIME but he has the worst luck when it comes to it. he was teammates with max first and therefore the second fiddle because christian was set on max being his everything. then he moved to renault which was uhm renault. then mclaren where he could’ve technically been seen as first driver or equals with Lando but Lando to Mclaren is Max to RB. He got a win at mclaren and just brought out the absolute best vibes for the team. Then he moved to ferrari but it was too late bc again Charles to Ferrari is Max to Red Bull. He always ends up second to a teams golden boy and as much as i love all those drivers it really sucks that Carlos does so much and will never truly get the recognition he deserves.

[unlicensedmortician]

welcome to bad movies with j&j, the segment where @ghostcasket and i watch bad movies while alex is gone. this time it’s divergent.

- i’ve never read any of the books or watched any of the movies before. btw

- oh this is gonna be terrible

- OH THIS IS GONNA BE TERRIBLE. THE EXPOSITION.

- they’re color coded,,,,,

- “there’s everyone else and then there’s dauntless who are cool hot sexy cops” jesus

- wow she doesn’t fit in,,, who could have seen this coming

- that is the most Blonde White Girl i’ve ever seen

- THIS IS SO STUPID. THIS IS SOOOO STUPID.

- they can’t look at mirrors for too long,,,,

- and they’re fucking color coded

- there are literally five personality traits and that is a real explicit part of this media

- better lock into one of those personality traits miss white girl protagonist. wonder what it will possibly be

- i can’t believe their social organization system is literally just “so we’re gonna put every teenager on an acid trip and see what happens”

- white girl discovers she has multiple personality traits, is incredibly distressed

- what’s up with how this movie treats homeless people.

- i want to claw my eyeballs out

- wow this dialogue isn’t even stilted at all

- she picked 12yo boys in gym class. obviously

- hey is run boy run by wood kid ruined forever now

- yes girl climb that piece of infrastructure. is this a big moment for you or

- why pick the doing stupid shit option if you don’t wanna do stupid shit i guess

- i shrieked out loud when i saw the love interest. why he fugly

- it’s the pit 👍

- THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID

- this is fucking crazy

- plot point: she’s too frail and delicate and skinny 🙁

- that tattoo is so stupid and also ugly

- she’s a threat to society because she is so so special and good at everything. i fucking guess

- ok. sure. training montage. i guess.

- he just looks so much older than her that this is unsettling

- so ur saying that u have to be fucking stupid to be a part of the cool hot people class. great.

- i cannot believe it’s real and a key plot point that the biggest threat to their society is people with multiple personality traits

- of course she’s getting on the train anyway. whatever.

- people actually thought this was good??

- imagine if christina and tris had been the main couple. it wouldn’t have solved anything but it would have been cool for me personally

- girl you are about to get so hazed. oh nvm it’s a zip line

- this romance plot makes me want to start killing and im being serious

-OH MY FUCKING GOD. SHES NEURODIVERGENT. AND THEY JUST TOOK THE NEURO OFF OF THAT AND WENT YEAH THATS THE TITLE. IM LOSING IT

- o shit her mother defected. lmao

- that’s not even a little bit how any of this works at all. fear serum? kill me

- this is so fucking stupiddddd

- this is just. crazy insane contrived.

- like what do you MEAN one personality type is leading the whole government. that’s crazy. i’m gonna start hitting people with cars. i’m gonna take up smoking.

- yeah of course this mf shows up to save her. as opposed to literally any cooler option. more points to the incredibly contrived romance plot.

- jesus fucking christ????

- hey i know u just showed me all of your worst fears. can u strip

- oh okay they’re. making out now?

- smart people evil. i guess.

- she’s just tooooo special.

- the only good thing about this movie is the soundtrack thank you hans zimmer

- oh my god one of her worst fears is boning

- hello what the shit is happening. oh my god they fucking shot him. damn this is crazy.

- gasp he’s divergent too who could’ve seen this coming except for literally anyone ever.

- of course they killed her fucking mom

- oh And her dad? equal opportunity parent killing!

- ok well. that movie happened. and made so much money. thank god it’s over. i’d like to be financially compensated

[futureplayboibunnie]

sherlock x work rival reader. they're same on skills like sherlock has. and sherlock doesnt like it. on a case, they got partnered up, both of them hate it. at one point while gathering data/evidences, they got stuck on a closet/elevator, and things kinda heated up buttt they didnt go further bcs they were found/freed sooo later on that day, at night they continued it. 👀 🔥

basically a co worker rival, enemies to lovers, stuck on a closet trope one 😁

‘Sweetheart’

Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

-DAMN. i lost the plot on this one BUT I LOVE THE IDEAAAAA <3 smutty enemies to lovers is my absolute fave, this is super long and should’ve definitely been a part 2 but fuck it we ball. enjoy u whores x

It was impossible. The slightest idea of someone attaining the same skill set as Sherlock made his eye twitch- but it wasn't an idea, it was a reality. You were impeding on everything he's ever known; the only person he knew that came close to his level of intelligence and observational deductions was Mycroft but he's hardly any threat to him, bonded by blood. You, however, were as pesky as you were threatening to his position and, to put it crudely, his ego.

Sherlock hated it, immensely. His blood burning cold at the mention and sight of your name. He cursed it relentlessly, no one could possibly be like him: he was one of a kind, a miracle of intelligence and a pioneer of human behaviour. It didn't seem like he was the only one. John seemed to mention you in passing only as a means to rile him up and lose his train of thought and confidence. He was always met with a defiant 'don't talk about her.' John had never seen him act like this before, almost as if he was threatened and scared; he was sure he wouldn't be able to live to see the day.

When you first walked into the room and presented yourself and called yourself a consulting detective, Sherlock laughed. When his eyes raked up to deduce everything and anything about your life, he was met with a hard and blank face- void of all emotion. Your face was almost lifeless, you weren't darting your eyes all around awkardly trying to figure out why Sherlock was laughing at...you stared directly at him with death defined and thinned eyes, absolutely not in the mood for games. You cocked and tilted your head whilst you stared him down blankly and he immediately caught that you weren't like anything he's experienced. You were extremely emotionally distant and didn't squander your time with games, your mouth was a hard line and you gave him a quick look of slight distaste. You didn't even ask who he was, you just ushered Lestrade to ‘’get "'him"' out of here.’’ The great Sherlock Holmes belittled down just to a 'him?' Did you not know who he was? The power his name held? He'd never experienced this type of treatment before and it made a slight shiver course through him.

You were now both here on another case, obviously not satiated with the amount of murder and death both sets of eyes see daily, an addict need of a daily fix. Lestrade had another one and surprisingly he needed both of you on it. Sherlock was despairing at the idea of both of you being partnered up, the woman he loathes, the woman he hates. It was his worst nightmare and now it was becoming a reality. Sherlock didn't have John with him either. He wanted to gather enough of you to catch you out with an overdue deduction and prove to everyone else you were nothing like him. That he would always remain superior.

‘’Why the hell is he here?’’ Your face could barely contain your annoyance at Lastrade, you were sure every bone in your body was turning brittle, the bones crunching by grinding your jaw. The dead body that you were all fawning over providing an insight into the case ahead.

‘’Get her out of here, I'll be able to get this finished by the end of the day without her pathetic ramblings.’’ Sherlock waved at you to shoo, completely undermining your competence.

‘’I'll be able to finish it in half the time.’’ You inched forward and scrutinised him through challenging eyes.

‘’Shut up, the both of you. I need your brains for this and I need you to work together, if not another person will end up like this and I doubt you'll want that kind of blood on your hands.’’ Lestrade finally struck the air as a means to shut you up.

‘’Brief me.’’ You said deapan.

‘’Female, 23, blunt force trauma to the head. It's likely that the same person that killed her killed the other four women we found earlier this month. she was about to wed but her engagement ring was-‘’

‘’Stolen!’’ You and Sherlock blurted at the same time, so sure of it all, incredible minds melding into one. His face darted to the side to register both of your reactions but you weren't as startled as he was.

‘’Time span is thinning. It's obvious he can't keep to his strict schedule of a kill every week...ohhh he's getting impatient he's getting sloppy and disorganised. Always have to wait for them to make a mistake, he took the ring and cut a good chunk of her hair off and stole the ring, he's motivated by rage and sexual drive now. The murder isn't just doing it for him anymore and oooooh that was his big mistake I’ll be able to find the guy in about 2 hours.’’' You hadn't even heard of the case before and you didn't even need to fully inspect the body, only briefed by a few sentences and you already knew what he was doing next. Your smirk and brightened face only told stories of certain and unwavering success.

Sherlock was about to deduce the exact same thing but his face was frozen and his mouth forgot how to speak, he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Lastrade just gave you a funny look and Sherlock's eyes held a noticeable fear. He had never felt threatened in his life before but he shook the thought out of his head and his obnoxious hubris rose once again.

‘’Trophies.’’ Sherlock said way too casually as he walked out of the room of where the body was laying, you and Lestrade on his coat tails like always.

‘’Collecting trophies as a way for compensating for his erectile dysfunction and 2 hours..? Let go of yourself sweetheart, I'd be the one to tell you that you're spreading yourself thin but I think you know that already.’’

‘’Call me sweetheart and I think I'll start my own trophy collection.’’ You pulled him back to stop him in his tracks and look in his stupidly smug face while you were promising on your threat.

‘’I'd like to see you try and fail.’’ Sherlock was inching closer to your face as a means to intimidate you but it wasn't working, he was just met with this challenging mutual stare, unwavering, faces filled with contempt like two arguing children.

‘’Stop bickering...and get this sorted. Now.’’ Lestrade rolled his eyes and parted ways with both of you, on his way to check in on the actual detectives on the case and not two amateur genuises he so graciously let in on these cases.

You and Sherlock began walking out of the house to catch a taxi and the disdain and cold attitudes were radiating off of the both of you. It's not that he hated the idea of a partner, John was a fine example of that, he just hated that someone else in the world other than his bloodline was able to read people like he can. Though he was physically unable to admit it, it was also because you were a woman. The scent of your hair when you put it up, the quirk of your eyebrows when you were focused in on something and drowning the rest of the world out. He couldn't read you. It was just a drawn out question mark.

‘’Don't need 2 hours to figure out that the suspect is white, mid 40s and lives in a suburbian eutopia, divorced, rarely sees his kids but lives in a house big enough to fill the extended family he doesn't have.’’ You thumbed the taxi down and both of you clambered in on the back.

‘’A fairly obvious conclusion. How'd you get to it?’’ He said with clear sarcasm watering his words.

‘’It's always the middle aged white guy people have to be afraid of. Bundy, Son of Sam. ...Anyone with a brain stem knows that.’’

‘’Not because you've been indoctrinated by true crime documentaries and podcasts from a young age?’’ Sherlock deduced and your eyes darted to his in surefire surprise, you weren't sure how he knew that. You took your time displacing all of your personal matters, it was a skill no one can have: being able to see through you. You tried to feign your nervousness and ignore what he just said. It could of been a bias guess into how you got into this field of work. No big deal.

‘’Highgate. He lives in Highgate.’’ Sherlock stated simply as if the answer was clear all along; you couldn't see it however and your face was of utter confusion when you stared at his smug smirk. ‘’Driver take us to Highgate please.’’ He said to the taxi driver and the car started moving.

‘’How could you possibly know that?’’ You sounded more surprised than you ought to; it was difficult to deny that he was incredibly talented, he was the only one that can see and think the way you can. Sherlock had the ability to breeze through the things that everyone thought was impossible like you could. You admired that, but he made it his mission to thrive through revalry. Granted you never liked him in the first place but you hated him even more for making everything a competition for the sake of hatred. The boiling blood between you was heating up once more.

‘’See I'm right, you're just like them. It's obvious, isn't it? The thin layer of mud on the floor next to the body is tinged yellow, something native to Highgate and only Highgate. clear as day.’’ Sherlock was obnoxious in tone, belittling you through subtext and quite literally.

‘’Hm.’’ You huffed and by that he took that you were impressed, he smiled out of the window before an idea pinged in his head whilst looking at the hotel in his peripheral.

Hotel. His eyes creased at the thought as if he was thinking. The small fragments of information coursing through his mind to spell out: Hotel.

The next murder is going to be in a hotel. He's taunting the police. He's murdering near every crime scene he leaves.

‘’Stop the car!’’ He yelled at the driver and you were pulled out of your daze, mind rattled with the obvious but still unexpected shift in character. The taxi stopped to a halt, the breaks searing hot as the vehicle was outside the hotel.

‘’What?! What is it!?’’ You yelled after Sherlock as he stumbled out of the taxi, his movements sharp and rigid.

‘’Hotel!’’

‘’Sherlock! You fucking idiot, wait!’’ You hurridely pulled out a few bills and shoved it in the drivers face before ultimately following him in his tracks and shutting the car door.

His mind was racing, he didn't have time to catch up with you and your frail movements. A muder was going to happen at some point here in this hotel and he was going to be the one to find him and catch him in the act. You were both in the cool, marbled lobby with the obvious fake and overdone gold finery. Sherlock was rushing to the elavator and you hated that you felt inclined to follow him and his absurd ideas, you hated him but you respected his leads. You were't completely warped and cut off from amicable society like he was.

‘’Elevator.’’ Sherlock punched the arrow up on the steely metal elevator. It was a janky thing, shaking as it arrived down and pinged at where you both where. It finally came to you in a flash through your foggy mind, Hotel. The killer was getting cocky, he's killing near the crime scenes as a display of power. Your eyes widened as you both got in, giddy on the fact you were going to catch this guy in the act. only you and Sherlock would be dizzy with glee over something as morbid as this.

"21. Floor 21.’’ You got to the number quicker than Sherlock did, his mouth quirked slightly as you crossed over his body to get to the pad and the way you finally caught on, he didn't even get to the idea of which floor he could be on. He could feel the scent of you, it was palpable. You smelt sweet, not too sugary not too clean. Just a natural sort of musk he couldn't seem to define which brand it was from.

You both looked straight ahead to the bleakness of metal infront of you as the elevator was lifting you up like a cloud in air. No need to talk when your thoughts were enough chatter in your heads. The jolt of the elevator dragged you out of your head, the sudden clang and whirr making everything around you seem less secure. Until it fully stopped.

‘’Shit.’’You blasphemed as you went over to the pad and pressed the button that made you talk to reception or control. All you heard was radio silence, the buzzing of it just intense static. ‘’Hello? Can you hear us? We're stuck.’’

You attempted to convey something but you were met with no one. House with the lights on and no one home.

‘’Hello? Get your silly little heads out of your arseholes and-‘’ Sherlock was already starting with people who weren't even there and you had to cut him off before he was about to go on a tangent with an imaginary ghost.

‘’Call Lestrade. Let him make the arrest.’’ You turned to face Sherlock, eyes exhausted and tired but obviously not surprised you would end up in an small enclosed area with him of all people. God, as if this day couldn't get any worse, you were sure you were experiencing your worst nightmare. You were met with Sherlock's aghast expression, as if someone had taken his favourite toy away.

‘’What? No! I'm catching this idiot, I found him, I'm going to see the life leave his eyes when I find him.’’

‘’A woman's life is on the line here, can you just stuff down your obnoxious hubris for one second and think about someone else for a split second of your life? Call Lestrade and tell him we're here.’’ Your face was that of sorrowful pity, all of this intelligence you harboured didn't wash away your compassion or your humanity like Sherlock did. He was jarred at your emotional ties with a woman you never even met, your eyes wer wild in fear and it was difficult seeing you lose yourself like this, he'd never seen you not calm and collected before.

With a huff, he grabbed his phone and called the number and told him everything and within a few minutes the telltale sound of sirens blared through your ears. You let out a sigh of relief when you heard the clamouring. Moments later, Sherlock answered his ringing phone and Lastrade's voice fell through.

‘’We've got him. You were right. We'll get you out of that elevator as soon as we can.’’

Your mind calmed when Sherlock hung up, now you had to fill up this awkward silence that was clouding between you both. It was swinging in the air and it was intensely tangable, your shoulder blades tensed when you crossed your arms. He always wore that cologne and you were unsure why that was the only thing you were thinking of right now. You were both leaning against the walls, so cold in your expressions; small breaths of impatience breaking through the silence.

When you weren't looking, Sherlock took this as an opportunity to scan you properly and not just through stolen glances. He needed to analyse you in a way that was different from the normal human because if you were like him you weren't in the band and social norm that is considered 'normal. Your skirt was vintage. Shirt and blazer firmly pressed. You valued simplicity, chicness but with a indivuality inspired twist with the vintage skirt. Your legs were bare but he could see the sheen of your stockings and thigh highs, you liked a little attention. Your heels were high, but it wasn't for show- you could actually walk in them for hours without your feet hurting. No ring. Unmarried? When his eyes raked up to your face, the dim elevator light shone onto your features; it made your eyes gleam and your lips plumpen- you were chewing on it now impatiently. It wasn't a nervous habit, you were bored. You had a sweet face that was blushing now, he wasn't sure why. It would be a lie to say you werent attractive and he was too tired to lie about it. It felt like the walls were closing in every second he was near you. The scent of you was becoming more potent.

You on the other hand didn't even need to look at him. You hated him. You hated him in every way, but what made you so drawn to him? You were never one for following anyone else but when Sherlock stumbled out of the taxi you found your feet following him and indenting every step he took, you trusted his opinion and you were awaiting his long overdue deduction of you- if anything you were looking forward to it. Sherlock was hot. He really was, physically. You once imagined what it would feel like to rub your fingers through his soft curls but you made the thought scarce, his eyes were a stark powder blue but his lips were sharply shaped but looked soft- you wondered what it would feel like to kiss it. He was a walking paradox that you wanted to unfurl. He couldn't hide behind the suits, the scarves and the coats any longer.

‘’What's taking them so long?’’You groaned into your palms before running your fingers through your hair.

‘’You can handle immense amounts of pressure but you can't deal with the slightest bit of boredom?’’ He questioned pompously.

‘’And you can? At least I don't shoot holes in walls at every given opportunity.’’ You weren't in the mood to play games and he was pushing you to the edge, you were too frustrated to even consider it. The claustraphobia was finally beginning to settle in.

‘’It's all relative.’’ Sherlock was obviously pleased with himself that he got you all snarky. He was still working the profile of you in his mind, with every moment he stared at you the pieces of you were flitting together. He was sure he got some sort of answer by the end of it to finally look you in the eye and tell you your own secrets. He smirked at the thought.

Silence settled through the air and it was even more awkward than before, so you thought it was best to rip the bandaid off now.

‘’So, are you finally going to deduce me and all of my dirty secrets?’’ You breathed, eyes slightly squinted in teasing defense.

‘’They can't handle it.’’ His fingers went to his temple to rub slightly before travelling down to his lips.

‘’What?’’

‘’They can't handle it. I feel as though you place your entire worth in your relationships and not your vast amount of intelligence. Relationships aren't a mystery to you, men are attracted to you, so obviously enthralled by your intelligence and aesthetically pleasing features but I'm sorry to say they look at your body first. The men that dare to play with you want your body more than anything else and after they have their way with you, they hate the way that you're more intelligent than they are. You clearly were never happy with any of the sex either, you've always been so tense since I've known you. Even I know what happens when a woman is faced with constant disappointment in the bedroom. The men can't handle that kind of emotional dominance in their lives. They simply can't.’’

Your eyes slowly started to widen with every word he uttered, he was way too casual in his words and the way his fingers were sliding over your lips was making your insides tighten. You haven't told anyone about anything with your experience with men, let alone the fact that you haven't came in so long. Embarrassment coursed through your shoulder blades at the sentiment but you felt something even more potent travel through you...the way Sherlock looked at you, the way his eyes darkened under the dim lamp light of the elevator. You weren't sure of the thoughts flying through his head. You inched closer to him, the space between you closing slightly.

‘’Am I wrong?’’ He raised an eyebrow, his voice husky and low.

‘’Never said you were wrong.’’ You said immediately, impassive in your emotions and tone as you crossed your arms.

‘’Have your go at me then.’’ His eyes involuntarily flitted to your lips.

‘’You did what they asked you to...not what you wanted. You're frustrated but you'd never admit it. You've seen naked women but not in a long time and when you did you weren't letting loose, maybe you're scared you think you won't be able to get it up but no...you're scared that you'll be contained in a box in bed. You want to experiment with something new. You want more. You've wanted more for a while now. God, if you saw a naked woman right now, you'd probably have to put your dick in a wheelbarrow.’’

Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't like the specitivity of it, he felt like you saw through him with your vulgar words and his eyes were darkening. It was a lazy and fairly obvious deduction that he so clearly had a blind spot towards. With every word, you felt your feet inching closer and closer to him. Your faces weren't too far apart from each other and a small smile tugged on his lips.

‘’Was I good?’’ You stared down at his lips, mindlessly flirting with him as you chewed on your own. Sherlock readjusted his jaw before gawking down on you. The woman he hates...asking for his accolades. Damn. Before he could respond, the elevator jolted and was whirring up again.

Within a split second, the elevator doors opened and you were greeted with Lestrades exhausted face.

‘’Dear God, finally.’’ You huffed before ultimately clacking out and away onto the marble.

Sherlock stared at the sway of your hips and the pleasing view of your back profile, more importantly your ass. Jesus. He felt like a teenager the way his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your stockings peeking through. He was just stood there frozen, watching you walk away from him...so confident. So sure. This was surely a night he would be set not to forget any time soon.

—-

You were about to get ready for bed. Undressing of your skirt, tights and blazer but when you were about to unbutton your suit shirt off there was a knock at your door. It was 11 at night, who could possibly be wanting to see you at this hour? You looked through the keyhole of your apartment door and you were shellshocked to see Sherlock at your door.

You were externally angry but internally panicking, you were half naked and he was at your door. You unlocked it and creaked it open slightly.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here Sherlock?’’ Your voice was drenched in fatigue, too consumed by the confusioning emotions and events of today.

‘’Open the door.’’ He demanded authoritatively, not in the mood for any games.

‘’Why would I do that?’’You retaliated but with that Sherlock but a large hand to the door and pushed it open- you weren't fighting back to close it. It only confirmed everything you felt.

‘’I said. Open. The door.’’ He let himself in and locked it back when he entered your sacred space.

‘’What do you want?’’ You questioned briskly, a cute little pep in your voice. He took his scarf and coat off and unbuttoned his blazer.

‘’You.’’He stated lowly as if he hasn't been sure of anything else in his entire life. Your body was malfunctioning, you were frozen by the heaviness of his words. The legendary Sherlock Holmes wanted you? You were sure you were locked in a daze, your mind crowded and foggy with this admission of honesty, but you felt as if this was a test or experiment of sorts.

‘’That's funny, tell another one.’’ You chuckled lowly, thinking it was his sick form of a twisted joke. You were about to move away before he caught onto your wrist and tugged you into him, you were against his chest and you felt yours cave.

You looked up at him, eyes bewildered and unsure of what his next move was. The rest of your face was hard, you weren't going to show him that he affected you like this; he was an asshole, hell bent on destroying and disillusioning everyone, that wasn't the type of person you liked but God... Sherlock was something entirely different yet similar to you. You liked having someone to banter with, the constant back of forth of insults and playful remarks. It was agitating and impossible but also incredibly fun. He said that men can't handle you, but he's not like other men.. is he.

You were sure he could handle you and you were filling to let him fall free reign over you.

‘’Listen to me. I want you…I want to see you naked. I want to feel every inch of your body when I make you feel everything that they couldn't. I don’t even need to ask because you’ve been giving me fuck me eyes all day, face flushed, thinking of the dirty things you’d rather have unseen, but considering our history... do you want that from me?’’ His breath was shaky and heavy and you were about to melt at any moment, your voice hitched in your throat.

‘’You teasing me?’’ You gave him a crooked half smile.

‘’No. If I could punish you I would.’’

‘’Who says you cant?’’

Sherlock was about to lose his mind, he was desperate and didn't have a clear head; any other time he might have been more graceful with his movements but you got him so madly insane he was willing to lash out.

He tugged you back into your bedroom and you let out a little yelp when he dragged you along, it's like the man had a spidey sense of your bedroom when he'd never been in your apartment before. His ego inflated with every breath you took, eyes alight when he kicked your door shut. When he turned back to face you, your lips were immediately on his, he found it adorable that you tiptoed just to reach him. You were right: his lips were soft, delicatessant and you opened up your mouth just to taste at him. sherlock spared no time in shrugging his blazer off but your fingers were patient, you ripped your lips away from his to look him intensely in his eyes whilst you unbuttoned his shirt one by one. He was revelling in your tease but he wanted you now. It was clear the way his hands immediately ripped open your shirt, the buttons flying everywhere. Your tongue tangled with his and you immediately discarded of his shirt, fingernails digging into his shoulder when he finally threw you on your bed.

‘’Not so posh now are you?’’ You flirted bashfully, absolutely adoring this change of pace he provided.

‘’Not so smart when I fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name.'’’ He gritted as he flipped you on your front so you were on all fours, in this position he could easily snap your bra off and rip your underwear off. And he did...fast. He was itching to get his hands on you.

‘’Sherlock. ..please.’’ You whined for his fingers on you.

You stifled a moan when you felt his lips kiss at your shoulder blade, travelling down to savour the taste of your skin; he can't believe he had you naked under him and you looked as beautiful as ever. You shivered when he bit down hard, he left a multitude of blossoming purple bites on your skin. You felt yourself grow impatient and you made it clear by your whines.

‘’Stay. Still.’’ He demanded and you tried your best to oblige but you couldn't.

‘’Fuck you! I ca-can't.’’ You tried your best not to scream but he was going far too slow for your pleasure.

‘’I said. Stay. Still.’’ A palm landed on your backside and he pushed your torso further down on the bed, no longer perching yourself on your own hands. He left another hard slap on your ass, slowly turning warm and pink under his coarse palms.

‘’Fuck!’’ You moaned, still shaking under him.

‘’I'll reward you if you stay still.’’ His voice was low and husky and it was making you so damn wet. You actually tried to stop shaking under him for that delicious reward you so relentlessly craved; you forced yourself to stop shaking.

‘’Good girl. Well done sweetheart.’’ Sherlock brightened at the pet name he gave you, he knew you hated it but in this context your moan proved otherwise. As a reward he bit one of your cheeks, leaving an indent in there as a means to claim you and mark you up as his. He smoothed the bite with a tender kiss and you found yourself blushing. ‘’My sweetheart. Not so mean now are you?’’ He mocked.

‘’Please just..inside Sherlock…I need to feel you. I'm begging you.’’ You tried your hand at begging and the amicable scoff he let out made you believe he was delighted by it. You? Begging? He never would have heard that in a million years. He gave you another cheeky spank before unzipping and tugging his pants and boxers down. You were right, he absolutely did need to put his dick in a wheelbarrow, he was so hard it hurt.

He grabbed your hair and tugged you by it when he slowly and torturously slid himself inside of you. He was so big, he was stretching you out unfathomably wide and you clung onto him tight. God he felt so good and him pulling on your hair exasterbated the fact tenfold. He rutted himself inside of you and you jolted up the bed, your moans bouncing off every wall and his low grunts panting in your ear when he bent down to kiss your neck. You couldn't string a single sentence together he was making you lose any sentient composure you thought you once had.

‘’Not so innocent are you sweetheart?'’

You couldn't answer him, not when you were completely spiralling and he was the cause of it. His cock ramming in and out of you at the brutal pace he so mercilessly set, you were so wet for him and you hated it. The man you hated for so long is fucking you in your own bed.

You never thought you'd live to see the day.

You were nearing the edge and he was losing himself in you, when he took your hands and held them in a tight iron like grip behind the small of your back you weren't sure if you could cry or scream in pleasure. You were on the brink and you weren't sure when you were coming back. He drew out a prolonged moan when you came onto him, that white wash of euphoria clouding your peripheral as you let your body go limp under him. The sound of your sweet wet moans made Sherlock spiral and he emptied himself in you, he let out a gutteral groan as he watched the sweat travel down your back. He stilled before rolling off of you and plating himself on the pillow beside you,

Your face stayed buried in the pillow for a little before you ultimately looked up and made yourself face the ceiling. You were both panting like lunatics, his curls were stickinf to his forhead and his brow gleaming from sweat. silence hung in the air for a while.

‘’C'mere.’’ He finally said with a sly smile, throwing his head back as an indicator.

You let yourself melt into him, you head on his chest as he embraced you with his big arms, tracing small shapes on your arms as you slung your leg around him.

‘’The elevator break on your way up here?'’’

———

i got so carried away but i love it sm 🫶

[zyafics]

Thanks for answering my question really enjoy hearing your opinions on the show!! 💖 also would love to know where you personally would’ve loved to see the character in season three n four like what is the storyline you would like to have seen? N I totally agree with you. I really wish we saw him crash out more. Lol 😂 unpopular opinion, but I think Rafe would’ve been a better antagonist than any other villain that we’ve had. Recently.!! But I think the creators are too scared!! I think taking the fan favorite  and making them the absolute worst character u had ever seen is so fun and writers should do that more!! not sure if you ever seen teen Wolf, but in season three they did something similar to this and it was genius!!! one of the best story lines of the show!! 

omg, i feel like @whytheylosttheirminds would have better opinions on this because her mind is gorgeous when it comes to analyzing the show, but honestly? i don't know.

a big thing about me is that i would gladly sacrifice a character for a show given that it's the right reason. like i would kill my favorite characters if that's what satisfies the arc of the book/movie/etc. so, i would've loved to make rafe descend further into his madness, but i would've carefully constructed who he was early in s1.

rafe would've been a great villain, but i also think it would've been beautiful for him to have a strong relationship with sarah before the murder of peterkin. that despite sarah being the golden child—rafe still cared about his sister. i would've developed that dynamic a lot earlier in s1.

and then when rafe spirals on the other end, while sarah's with the pogues? that would've crushed him. in addition, it would've made the impact of him wanting to kill sarah at the end of s2 so much more stronger. especially because at his core, he loves his family more than anything EVEN if they oppose him.

i think the reason why the creators didn't make rafe descend further down into madness in s3 because they needed him to be an agitator for the pogues, and they couldn't do that with him going on his own self-destruction path. this is the problem with the pacing/plotting of modern shows rn. they needed friction and conflict, and they made him more driven to make choices because ward could no longer be the primary conflict of the season. i would've probably made him descend further down into the pit of madness regarding the gold; why he felt so much ownership of it? what does it mean to have it if he doesn't have his family? how wealth can be isolating and driven him mad. i would've probably also made him explore why he wanted it in the first place—was it his own greed or because of his father's hand? did he do it to prove to the man that he could do something for himself? honestly? i would've wanted a conflict between him and sarah to go up to the point that he almost killed her (again) but HE snapped out of it. he made the willing choice to stop (not topper, not his father) and give this sort-of cain-abel dynamic. and i would then i would want him to hit rock bottom. to fail. to actually lose all of it without any safety net.

s4 i probably want him to do a lot of self-evaluation. and him making the conscious choice to help sarah because he realized that it's his sister at the end of the day. i would've actually made SARAH the primary figure the season, where she's trying to figure out her own shit and she's struggling and she had no one to turn to. this force proximity and rafe's need to bring his family together would allow them to understand and rebuild the damaged trust.

s5 i would probably want him to figure himself out. to know what he wants rather than what he was told what he wants. build up. i wouldn't want him to die—that's too easy of a redemption arc. i want him to... try? his relationship with sarah (and wheezie) would be his primary motivators for his wellbeing and i want him to make intentional efforts to protect and take care of his sister. that's how i would wrap up the series.

my mind's scrambled with this because it isn't my show, and if it was, i would do a lot more deconstruction, but that's overall the current gist i have about it!

and i have watched teen wolf, but i'm not sure what you're talking about? was this with stiles and the spirit inside him? i can't remember.

[intertexts]

oh god i just realized I forgot to send you this. behold: the worst trivia ask out of all of them:

EPISODE 22 TRIVIA:

- they spend the first. 9 whole minutes talking about the logistics of snapping someones neck irl only to learn that its not actually possible and thats just something that was make up for movies

- "this is the most guy talk we've ever had at the beginning of a rolled. i feel like we need a trigger warning for boys"

- bizly wanted them seeing tide again to feel awkward and weird! like you're going back to your parents house after not seeing them for a really long time

- talking about how dakota has so many parental figures now and grizzly goes "except for ms. g. she has my whole heart" and WITHOUT missing a beat charlie goes "no. *i* have your whole heart"

- there was apparently a group of people on twitter who made a VERY long VERY well researched document about how all the medical stuff esp involving william would work and kept tagging bizly in posts asking how things would work and hes like "man i dont know!! i write a silly superhero show im not a doctor! it all comes down to his parents built a very strange machine that was designed to view worlds unseen!" (<< quoting the dp theme song in the most EXASPERATED voice possible.)

- "WILLIAM WISP SHOULD HAVE FUCKIN WORMS IN HIM. if we were playing this realistically william would be fuckin LOCKED UP with rigor mortis and COVERED in worms and FULL OF GASSES. he should be FOUL. and FULL OF WORMS. and I DONT WANT THAT" << hes a coward for this. btw. i feel like william should be grosser

- they just keep saying more things about how william should be so grotesque. at one point charlie goes "please dont draw this. its so gross". me, looks at my 4/7 jrwi freak week canvases that are william wisp themed. um. well.

- WARM BODIES MENTION. i love that movie. charlies like "thats how i want william to work hes undead but hes like. pretty about it"

- bizly: "because we've already explored this plot thread of William Being Dead so much, i dont want him getting a heart to just automatically fix that. its not like hes just magically alive now. i havent thought of the exact consequences yet but i want there to be some drawbacks to this to keep things interesting"

charlie: "william is just thrilled right now to be feeling stuff. i dont think hes considering the possible drawbacks"

- "ive never been prouder of any of my characters than when william wisp dented drywall"

- "why didnt vyncent get a fun surgery too" "because I'm a coward"

- they were on some absolutely insane energy for this rolled they keep going on like 5-10 minute long tangents and BARELY talk about the episode other than to mention how william should be a rotting corpse. I REMEMBER NOW that this was a SIGNIFICANT factor in my being frustrated with the heart surgery thing LMAO

- THATS IT. THATS LITERALLY IT. THE ROLLED IS OVER NOW. THIS WAS NOTHING !!!!!

TERRIBLE rolled youre right!!!!! help!!! this is so funny. great rolled guys lets wrap it up. william should be wormy and u cant snap peoples necks. good job everybody. it is really funny to me that people were... expecting medical accuracy?? how do u really seriously research putting one guys heart and another guys blood inside a body that's been dead for several years. frankly i would love to see it i'm very curious.

LOWKEY I'M GLAD HE *ISN'T* A BLOATED LOCKED UP DECAYING CORPSE!!!!! PERSONALLY!!!! i fully respect ur rights and taste to think he should be rotting and worm filled and stinky but frankly i'm on charlies side w this one. hes undead and pretty about it <33

anyway. i still have many thoughts about wiwi's soul/body/wisp relationship that i will NOT start talking about now because it would get LONG. but. its always great hearing their thoughts on it. eyes emoji. but yeah i really don't want him to be just magically fixed and alive now.... we'll see!! we'll see how it goes!!!!

[thekidsarentalright]

Hey, despite only being familiar with a handful of songs, I got the honor of seeing FOB yesterday at the Cuyahoga Falls concert. I went really impulsively because that's just how my dad plans things.

I was wondering about the importance of the song Hallelujah, and the source for that saving Pete's life? I'd also love a few good sources to getting to learn more about the boys, like a documentary or anything! I know that the day after a concert is a bit late to be getting invested in a band, but oops?? i love them though . i love them very much now and that was the most beautiful concert ever

hi there!!! ahh this is sooo wonderful and lovely to hear, anytime is a great time to get into fob and im so glad that it was such a good show for you and sparked you loving them!!! I don't wanna overwhelm you with too many links or anything to learn more about them/about the importance of hallelujah, but below the ‘keep reading’ (just so this isn't super long on the dash fksdjn) is the source about hallelujah, and then a few sources to learning more about the boys!! if u ever have anymore questions or want more sources, feel free to ask me!! <33

NME article where pete mentions listening to hallelujah while attempting to take his life / Genius annotations of fall out boy's song hum hallelujah where it (hallelujah) saving his life is specifically mentioned

Drunk history of fall out boy where their entire band history is very basically explained! br*ndon ur*e sucks But the video is entertaining and Does give a pretty good, brief synopsis of the band's history up until 2013

Honestly just all their music videos, they're all very enjoyable to watch especially for the first time and really showcases their evolution musically/creatively speaking and evolution as people so are Very important to watch, i think

Apple music interview with Pete and Patrick from earlier this year, it's a bit of a long watch (just over an hour!), but they talk about the band history and the newest album, so good place to get a lot of newer context/info straight from them!

Rock Sound best & worst interviews from 2014 (parts 1, 2, 3, 4), really just showcases their personalities and dynamics a lot, were The interviews that made me fall in love w the band as people and seek more out about them, some of my favorite interviews of all time still <3

hopefully these things help you!! it's kinda hard with them, because there Isn't really one specific documentary to point you towards, just a lot of little things to watch and take in that builds the whole story of fob! again, if u have any more questions or want any more recs on things to watch feel free to ask!!

[jesse-pinko]

Can I just say I relate to Chuck McGill so much? It’s so sad, cause while, yes, he is a shitty brother, as far as morality goes, he’s doing better than most characters in brba/bcs. His primary sin, which he identifies, is being unlikable. Jimmy has a lot of pathos, but the fact is the character of Saul Goodman gained enough popularity to get his own show because he’s funny & charismatic.

We see this too with Lalo, who is popular with fans despite being pretty much just, “a soulless pig.” Gus & Mike are liked for their cool professionalism; Jesse & Nacho are both great, but they both get a lot of mileage out of be young & good looking. Shit, I know you don’t like him, but even Walter has a certain magnetism. He’s an abusive monster, but he’s intense & passionate, which clearly draws a lot of people in.

Chuck doesn’t have any of this. He’s not exiting, cool, or particularly charming in any way. He’s not the sort of character who gets “fans.” I’ve never seen anyone geek out over him the way they do for the rest of these guys. He’s shrill & fussy & demanding; made even worse by his condition. And ultimately, these qualities are what make people dislike him.

It doesn’t matter how desperately Chuck tries to be good (though I think his moral framework is very flawed) because people will never love him the way they love Jimmy. And that resentment destroys their relationship, the only true love & dedication he had in his life, but I can still deeply emphasize with that resentment.

Accepting that it doesn’t matter how good you try to be, cause that’s not what people care about, is so painful. & then accepting that you just don’t have it. That you’re not the sort of person who makes friends easily. That you’re not easy to love. That people will prefer actual monsters over you. It’s so heartbreaking, & it’s definitely made infinitely worse by mental illness. Poor Chuck man. :(

anyway srry this so long, u don’t have to respond to it, i just was struck by chuck. also, i know this was a shallow read of those other characters, i was just trying to make point lol

Sorry to get back to you so late when you put your whole pussy into this ask but bc of that I knew I would have to wholeass my pussying as well and I just haven’t had the time as of late 😭🐈 but fr as someone diagnosed w BPD I always saw too much of myself in Chuck to fully hate him, but also, that’s kind of why I hated him, bc seeing your worst attributes laid on screen and read for filth doesn’t exactly make for an objective viewing experience. What a lot of neurotypicals don’t get ab Chuck’s character is that he doesn’t resent Jimmy in spite of Jimmy tending to him so diligently, but because of it, at least partially. Chuck does not feel that he deserves to be loved and cared for, he doesn’t feel like his emotions and his love are worth anything because his parents loved Jimmy best and Rebecca (he thinks) loved Jimmy best and everyone loves Jimmy best bc of Jimmy’s personality, whereas Chuck has only ever been lauded for his intellect. So it feels unsafe for him to be so dependent on another person’s genuine love, he feels unsafe being cared for, because Chuck feels incredibly threatened by any sort of change or anything that doesn’t align w the world as he’s come to perceive it, hence his “allergy” to electricity, an allegorical stand-in for modernity and progress. And so being cared for w/out that sense of worth that he hinged entirely on his career makes Chuck feel not just impotent, but like he owes Jimmy. Chuck feels as though he and Jimmy are now on unequal footing, bc while Jimmy still has his charisma, his “value”, Chuck no longer has a distinguished law career. And Chuck can’t owe Jimmy anything because he has to feel superior to Jimmy in some respect or he’s worthless, because no matter what Jimmy does he will always be loved, he will always have worth, as Chuck sees it, and Chuck derives all of his self-worth from his law career and his sense of moral superiority. Chuck knows he’s “different”, but his proficiency as a lawyer let him believe that maybe “different” is for the best, maybe other people are the ones doing something wrong, maybe he isn’t missing anything that other people have but has something that other people don’t. And it’s not Jimmy’s fault that other people like him better, that their parents loved him more, that Chuck associates his brother with that feeling of worthlessness, but if Chuck can vilify his brother, then he can justify that ugly, misplaced hatred he feels toward the person he owes the most to. And the idea of Jimmy becoming a lawyer, of taking the one thing Chuck had going for him, is unbearable, intolerable. Obviously I’m not a psychologist, I can’t do an official diagnosis of a tv show character, but it is pretty common conjecture within the fanbase that Chuck is somewhere on the autism spectrum. He’s averse to change, he experiences sensory overload, he struggles with social cues, he has niche interests that he is knowledgeable about to a very precise degree, and he has a very, very strong sense of justice. It’s not fair that Jimmy gets to become a lawyer when that was the only thing Chuck had going for him, it’s not fair that everyone loves Jimmy and not Chuck when Jimmy is a conman who stole from their sweet father and Chuck tries so, so hard to be good, to adhere to society’s moral standards as strictly and literally as possible. It’s not fair.

[finnbbl]

Hey fin <33

I read ur last post, and first, it’s ofc written soooo great and comforting as always,

but since u said it’s from ur experience and stuff i just want u to know, that all these things u wrote also are true for u.

U are such a beautiful human, with a even more beautiful soul and if I would know u irl I would do everything to comfort u and let u know how worthy u are

I know how hard everything ca be sometimes, especially when other people hurt you even more than you already are, but please, if u every feel like that then talk, cry, or vent to someone. But pls don’t bottle it up, and pls don’t do anything to urself.

Take care of urself, and maybe look in the mirror a bit longer today and remind urself how worthy u are. Ur not a bad person. And if anyone makes u think otherwise? Well they r wrong

I just wanted u to know that, and nowww virtual hug💕🫂✨

you have absolutely no idea how lifting your words are 🥺 it has been an absolutely shitty week and a half. however, i am doing my best to get through it. i have things to look forward too within the next month, and im trying to stay strong. i do my best not to bottle up my emotions however there are very few friends (ones that i will eternally be grateful for) who will let me vent my feelings out peacefully and tell me if im in the wrong (politely ofc).

even though they reassure me, i often feel like i rant too much or talk about my problems too often simply bc i somehow find myself going through a lot of shit. i’m a lot to handle, it is something i am painfully well aware of. i seem to attract bad people so i question whether it is me that’s the issue or not. i’ve had plenty of reassurance and i analyze my behavior vs theirs. coming to the realization i just have had horrible luck with having shitty friends. sometimes i still find myself in self doubt, questioning if im actually the problem; but im trying to get better at it. i just worry about how people view me, whether they see me as a bad person or not. no one is perfect but i do try my absolute best to be a good person that someone can count on, however things like my bad memory and lack of awareness also bring issues in my friendships. and then im sensitive so if someone says smth in the wrong tone i will absolutely break down 🥹 im so picky on how issues are presented to me. i’d rather it be a civil and polite sit down conversation rather than “you did this and this and this to me and you made me feel like this” half the time it was something i’m sure i didn’t do, and regardless of my horrible memory something i KNOW i wouldn’t do to someone bc I KNOW how it feels. gah i just can’t stand being accused of doing horrible things. other half of the time it was a misunderstanding/miscommunication but then i am not heard out and my attempt to clear things up is ignored and shut out. my biggest pet peeve is people who refuse to let you try and talk it out because they want to play victim. that was just a little bit of my week.

point is, when i feel like im getting too much for my friends, i turn to my blog where i can vent out my feelings on a comfort post or simply a rant like this one. i’m aware that bottling up emotions is one of the worst ways to try and cope. thank you for your such kind words, they really do mean a lot to me. i’m so glad you enjoy and feel comforted by my posts. i started this blog to bring a source of comfort not only to me but to anyone else who may be struggling with similar things i am. remember if you’re ever feeling down you can anonymously rant in my inbox. i can reply to it with some positive words, or i can leave it in my inbox/delete it if you just need somewhere to put your feelings out there. that goes for everyone.

life is hard, especially with everything going on in the world right now. we all need someone to turn to and a source of comfort. 🫶

[kimtaegis]

are u ever classified as that 1 friend that has nothing going on but their love for bts? cus i was and im not sure how i feel about it 🙄 like sure i am waiting for them to come back & maybe i dont do much besides that personally (i work from home) so its just work and bts but having someone say that made me feel like ??? *sigh* i was telling myself i need to do better by the time they all come back, i want to be a better person when i see them again (just hoping for things to turn out better in my personal life) and yet jin is almost halfway back and ive done nothing i feel so disappointed with myself, like truly i let myself down more than anyone else could

darling, I’ve been there too. no one told me (did seriously someone say this to you?? what the hell, how much of an asshole can you be. this is seriously absolute toxic and mean and unhelpful and I’d tell them to get lost if I were you), but I realised it for myself. you’re not alone. sometimes we’re at points in our life where there’s just one, seemingly silly thing that might get us out of bed in the morning. and you know what I came to realise? at least there was this one thing. also, I know exactly how it is to be your own worst critic, and it’s so hard to learn how to be gentle with yourself, to be understanding and patient, to find courage and energy again when you feel disappointed in yourself etc. I think it’s already a great start to find some kind of motivation at all, and if it’s bts, then awesome!! who cares where you retrieve your positivity from!!! the only thing that counts is that there is a source, and if it’s only external at the moment and not yet because you want to get better for yourself only, then that’s absolutely okay too. just keep going no matter what, baby steps. just you giving all you got would make the members proud, trust me. they’d never be disappointed in you, ever, neither would I, even on the worst days. you’re inevitably going to be better than now simply because you want to. future’s gonna be okay

[actualbird]

Hi zak! I've been a longtime reader of your original works. Do you have any tips on what pieces to put in your writing folio?

hi anon !!! im very sorry it took me forever to get back to this ask, and doubly sorry if you are no longer in need of tips OTL. still, thank u for reading my original works, thats a pleasant surprise to know!! i havent posted my original writing website here in......a long while, since im the (very slow) process revamping the site HAHA,

but yeah, tips on what put in a writing portfolio!! if ever you still need em or if ever anybody out there can make use of this. all of these based completely on my personal experience of applying to writing workshops and writing jobs, so feel free to take what you think applies to you/would help you, and leave the rest behind

-

1 ) in general, put your Best Works. but take into consideration that You are usually your own worst critic, so you definitely could benefit from a second opinion (or many)

so, obviously, you wanna be putting in your best stuff. and thats still the general method that i'd choose, but with the added reminder that a lot of the time, writers can be blind to certain works that they themselves made that other people really liked or found immensely compelling.

this for lots of reasons: writerly self-esteem problems, that odd experience of mostly remembering the arduous Process of writing the thing and less the actual finished product, general blindness to stuff in your own work since you Wrote That (and probably revised it 76439754985 times) so it's just hard now for you to realize the level of skill thats apparent to many others

the opposite effect is also very possible, where you can be Incredibly attached to a work (maybe for sentimental reasons, maybe because the you learned a lot along the way, etc) but other people kinda found the whole work meh.

bottom line: by this point, you know youve got skill in writing. but the skill OF seeing and evaluating your own skill is a whole different animal

reach out to your friends, writing peers, or reading peers and ask them what they think some of your best works are. personally, i think it's good both to ask people who are Also in the practice/study/career of writing, and people who arent, simply because a more diverse set of information is always better than a lesser diverse one. if you want, you can ask follow up questions like "why?", or you can just stick to getting a general pulse check of what is resonating to the people who read your work. because [tv commercial voice] The Answer May Surprise You!

and once you know what resonates with others, you can start chopping down the list with armed with that new knowledge

-

2 ) "Best" should not be a catch-all term, cut it up into specific categories and showcase your Best in top categories you want to focus on. this way, you get a folio that's showing a wide range of your capabilities

if i were picking between two applicants, both of which submitted portfolios of their Best fiction works (and theyre both Very good), i would ultimately choose the applicant who gave a portfolio that showed a wider range of what Bests theyre capable of rather than the applicant who submitted 5 really great stories but they all still employed the same techniques/concepts/themes

......if that makes sense?

like, okay, let's assume the portfolio is a fiction portfolio. no specific lit genre limitations or whatever, just, fiction in general.

"fiction in general" is a ridiculously huge field! theres the genres of course, so many damn genres. but what im more focused on is Technique. there are so many ways to structure your plot and pacing, there are so many ways to create your cadence and tone, there are so many kinds of characters and so many ways you can make them clash, so many dang ways to make your story's themes come to light. theres a Lot

so take a portfolio as a chance to show the widest possible range of what you can do, and what you can do Well

let's say you did Tip 1 and coming from that, youve got a list of 15 stories you think would be good for a portfolio. your next step then is to identify which stories are doing the same Thing (whether that be in its genre, structure, themes, etc) and then decide which of those stories showcases your ability to Do that Thing best.

if ive got 3 different stories that are all magical realism pieces using a very subdued tone to communicate the plot's conflict and emotion, then im gonna need to pick just one to put in my folio, the one that did it Best. and then you can go back to Tip 1 and get a second opinion on that if you want, and THEN i repeat with the other stories, this time picking a different Thing-Technique-Structure-Theme-Etc to focus on

basically my point is that a portfolio, ideally, should show different Kinds of Bests. because that is much much more appealing than only seeing One kind of Best

-

3 ) you can make as many portfolios as you want, tailor-made specifically for what youre using that portfolio for

this is something i learned after college and when i was applying for various writing jobs. for context, i dual wielded fiction and nonfiction in college. though my degree ultimately/officially went into the nonfiction track, i still wrote a whole lotta original fiction, and when i was applying for jobs, my personal list of Bests included a lot of fiction pieces, as well as nonfiction pieces

but i was applying to all different kinds of jobs, and it would be slightly off-course to submit a fiction piece to a job like Feature Writer For Magazine. additionally, it would be slightly off-course to submit a nonfiction piece to a job like Romance Game Writer

(.....both of those real jobs i applied for and man, sidenote, can you believe i almost became a romance game writer? like, how ironic that is now that im into the fandom i am Currently into. guys. guys i got to the second interview stage of that job. Guys. jdhvfhvfkshd)

anyway, remember how Tip 2 is about showing off a diverse array of what youre capable of? well, dont get Too diverse. always remember the people/organization/etc that you will be submitting this portfolio to, and keep in mind what They are looking for

if youre applying for a sci-fi fiction workshop, submit your Best pieces that do different techniques or things BUT are still within the parameters sci-fi fiction, so they are relevant. if youre applying for a feature writing job, maybe fiction might work, but read the works that the magazine puts out, maybe. get a feel for their style, what they like. like idk , if theyre super into that Anthony Bourdain-esque kinda description of gritty details, then maybe a fiction piece that shows off that kind of descriptive skill can still be relevant.

make a new portfolio whenever the need arises to best adapt to whatever it is youre gunning for

-

in summary :

tip 1: Best works but cast a wider net and ask other people because us writers can get tunnel vision sometimes

tip 2: whittle down your list to show different kinds of Bests that you can do, avoid redundancy

tip 3: keep your Bests relevant to whatever the task at hand may be

well....thats all i can think of. i hope some part of this can be helpful to anybody out there. hope youre doing well, anon :")

[freelancewitchvt]

im gonna respond to criticisms about adventure time that i saw in a twitter thread bc im bored and have feelings and thoughts

the most frequent reply to the thread was that people believe finn’s breakup with flame princess was stupid and, at worst, was an attempt by the female writers to make the male protagonist Finn as dislikeable as possible.

i don’t think i’ve ever met a single fan of adventure time who thinks “yeah that finn the human guy? he sucks. totally dislikeable protagonist.” i have to believe these people simply watched up to this episode and then quit the show. they didn’t see any of the followup. they didn’t watch finn grow up. they didn’t see the episode where finn acknowledges specifically what he did wrong and makes amends with flame princess. i just simply do not understand this criticism.

WHAT SHOW ARE U WATCHING? GO WATCH THE SHOW CALLED “ADVENTURE TIME” AVAILABLE ON MAX AND HULU

ppl won’t shut the fuck up about rebecca sugar even when she’s NOT a show runner

moving onto princess bubblegum. now call me crazy but i’ve always liked princess bubblegum as a character. i also understand where a lot of this criticism comes from and im able to qualify that my affinity towards her character comes with a fair bit of nuance as well as coming from a place of bias via naivete

the idea that the show turns a blind eye to her abuses is absurd to me. the show explicitly shows her hurting characters that we care about, and it in no way is framed as good. it acknowledges her flaws, which is why we the audience are aware of them. and in-universe I think she is quite literally called out by almost every major character lmao does the show punish her enough? well that’s like, an interesting question to ask and a fun way to think about the show and her character. what does princess bubblegum deserve? well we know she got usurped and exiled for some time. that gave her some time to reflect a bit.

now you don’t necessarily have to think of that as a redemption arc. at the very least the show took the opportunity to show us other facets of her character. she can be vulnerable, she can be kind, she can feel remorseful. and she does, like, improve in my opinion. in “The Thin Yellow Line” princess bubblegum has a whole speech condemning her idolization, saying she’s “just a person, like all of you” it’s quite wholesome. It’s further reinforced in “High Strangeness” when she apologizes to tree trunks for trying to colonize space and inadvertently infecting her alien children with candy goo (lmao i know it sounds ridiculous but watch the episode lol) obviously i’m not gonna sit here and be like “princess bubblegum is great and was  completely redeemed and a morally exemplary paragon to be revered by all” but like, come on twitter. you’re not at all convincing me here

now im gonna talk about his one!! the animation!! i have a lot of ways i like to think about how the style/animation/tone/format of this show changes over time. the central pillar of these is exactly in line with the shows most prominent theme: growing up. finn ages from 12 to 17 and a lot of what the show explores is the transition from “boyhood” to “manhood” and how it’s messy, nonlinear, painful, joyful, and rich with new experiences. i think the stylistic changes, even if they can also be explained by ward stepping down as showrunner, also reinforce this theme fantastically. if we’re seeing the world through finn’s eyes, of course in his early years things are much more colorful, fantastical, and whimsical. and as he ages, we see the world more clearly, things seem more grounded, more mature.  that’s why i can’t really take any criticism in line with this seriously because it’s just too well done it works too dang well.  and don’t get me started on how this theme extends to all the other characters. i could literally go on but i’ve already made my point hehe.

i dont have anything to say about this one it’s just funny hehe okay im gonna go now

[everythingsinred]

Hi hii!! I hope you're having a nice day 💜💜

Ok I'm gonna be really mean with the 50 questions ask-

Whichever ones you want, with Ruka, Natsume, or Mikan

(i find it mean bc i am tragically indecisive)

i am doing great!

(i think that u sent this again, adding mikan... so i'll answer this one instead of the other one, if that's okay)

ur ask is so tempting so i will do as many as i can for all three, thank u <3

Ruka-pyon <3

1. Canon I outright reject? he would NEVER leave natsume not EVER. i know tsubasa had to basically drag him out of there but i hate that he left i HATE it

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on? i don't think he would ever date mikan after natsume's hypothetical death. i don't think either of them would be able to.

3. Obscure headcanon? his favorite disney movie is fox and the hound.

4. Favorite line? "Meeting you, and coming with you here to the Academy... I never even once regretted it." (chapter 146)

5. Best personality trait? his loyalty. he's very sweet and i love that, but his loyalty is what moves mountains, what fights wars, what transcends the rules of time and space.

6. Worst personality trait? i must have mentioned this at some point but he's perfect. but really i think he shouldn't feel like such a burden when he brings so much to the table.

7. Age/height/weight headcanon? i don't need a headcanon when i have character profiles! 140 cm/4'6 and 35 kg/77 lbs at his debut, 173 cm/5'8 and 66 kg/145 lbs in the last chapter. also i believe he's the youngest of the main four? he turns 11 in march, after natsume, mikan, and hotaru have all had their 11th birthdays.

8. Unpopular opinion about them? i've already said i only like his relationship with mikan platonically, so i'll say something else.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character? "bird meets tori!" where we see him using his alice with piyo. though it's been so long since i first met him that i really can't remember ever NOT loving him.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)? my favorite ruka moment is when he's waiting for natsume in the backseat of the car to go to the academy with him. makes me cry every single time.

12. Crack headcanon? i like thinking of him growing little flowers on his windowsill in his dorm and that he very much likes baking... again "crack" i use loosely.

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done? this...?? maybe? i dont think he does many dumb things...

14. Most heroic moment? i just think there's so much strength in ruka's actions in the new year's arc, even if he feels like such a burden the whole time. though i also think this one is very brave.

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done? very tough to say because he's a well-meaning child! i don't like to be negative abt the kids. that being said, this might be natsume AND ruka's worst moment lol. ruka was complicit in that.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them? zoe and i do have a ruka playlist, but it's private right now because it's unpolished. that being said, here are some songs from the playlist.

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about? his self-esteem issues, namely his feelings of being a burden and his apparent social anxiety that stems from a lonely, isolated childhood.

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)? lemonade!

22. Best physical feature? his pretty blue eyes! he's so beautiful!

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like? YOU ASKED THE RIGHT PERSON. i imagine he would be a lovely, simple floral scent, as well as something a little sweet and refined.

24. Most annoying habit? he's done nothing annoying??? tho for real i think people might get annoyed by his natsume-apologism (especially in story lol)

27. Their guilty pleasure? i think he'd probably like musicals but get very embarrassed abt it. tho i might just be projecting winston bishop on him based off his one musical performance as snow white that he obviously didnt even want to do.

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like? VERY aesthetic, sweet, with lots of photography, poetry quotes, and pictures of animals.

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh? when he finally lets himself poke fun at natsume and mikan! they make him laugh a lot, when he puts his walls down <3

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry? when he thinks too hard about his family, because of how much he misses them.

35. Their idea of a perfect day? spending time with his friends and snuggling with an animal... i think he'd be content with simple pleasures.

36. Their favorite season? i associate him with spring! with flowers and baby animals and gentle weather. i think he'd like it too, for lots of the same reasons.

37. What they really think about themselves? he thinks of himself as a burden, obstacle, impediment, that he holds the one person he loves most back when all he wants is to help. as a result, he withdraws and hides himself away bc he doesn't think he's capable of contributing much anyway.

38. Favorite holiday? maybe easter? i'm not familiar with japanese holidays so i cant say for sure but the easter aesthetic suits him.

39. Favorite game? card games!!!

40. Favorite book? i have a predominantly western understanding of literature because i have a degree in english literature, so forgive me. i think he'd like romantic poets, like whitman, wordsworth, byron, and dickinson. he'd like romanticism for it's emphasis on the natural world and on emotion and justice. i think he'd like classic children's books too, like peter pan or alice in wonderland.

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be? he'd wanna eat lunch with his parents because he misses them <3

42. 3 comfort items? i had a long and nice answer for this but tumblr ate it (which pisses me off so much u have no idea) so i dont remember what i'd said. the earbud transmitters hotaru left him, but i cant remember the other two. ill reblog again if i remember.

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise? i think ruka would like bread and pastries, lots of desserts. i dont have much of an inkling what he wouldn't like except that i believe he's a vegetarian so he wouldn't eat meat. i just dont understand how he could have such connection and empathy for animals, genuinely love them as friends, and have the animal pheromone alice on top of that, and eat them. i dont think he'd judge anybody for eating meat, but he wouldn't be able to himself.

44. Their happiest memory? meeting natsume <3

46. The person they most admire? natsume, mikan, and his mom. people whose strength he admires and maybe covets.

47. Their dream job? he wants to be a vet!!!!

48. Scariest moment of their life? poor ruka has gone through a lot of scary moments but i think he's managed to be brave each time anyway, which is very admirable. i keep saying natsume for all his answers, but i think natsume's death would be the scariest moment because he genuinely couldn't do anything to stop it. i think not only was it the moment he lost his best friend, but also a moment that made him feel like he really couldn't be of any help or support to natsume after all, that he really was a burden.

49. Favorite toy as a child? rich boy ruu-chan had a lot of toys and while i'm tempted to think he'd like stuffed animals, at the end of the day i think he'd be way more interested in playing with real animals. i think they made him feel accepted and understood and less alone.

50. A memory they’ve blocked out? i think the memories of the time between natsume dying and coming back would be a bit blurry. he wouldnt have been holding on tight to that period of time, to put it lightly.

Natsume <3

1. Canon I outright reject? I will never accept him dying young. sorry higuchi but i just cant listen to you.

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on? natsume LOVES chocolate and sweets. why do so many people insist on him hating sweets just because he's "cool" i dont get it???

3. Obscure headcanon? he listens to rap and rap rock. im sorry i just. cant imagine he wouldn't love rap. whatever.

4. Favorite line? i love when one of the kids asks him to tutor him when the whole class is in study mode, saying, "i thought if i went in with a 'do or die' attitude then maybe..." and natsume replies, "then die." (i know it's hard to see but it's at the bottom, where ruka's face is.) ALSO on a more serious note, "can you wait for me?" because it KILLS me.

5. Best personality trait? how sweet he can be!!!! no but seriously natsume acts cool but he's the most hopeless romantic of the bunch and i live by that.

6. Worst personality trait? martyr complex.

7. Age/height/weight headcanon? who needs headcanon when we have canon!! natsume is ten (a couple months away from eleven) when he's introduced and the second youngest (only older than ruka) in the main four (the boys being younger than the girls is so cute). he's sixteen at the epilogue and in kageki <3. he's 140 cm/4'6 and 34.5 kg/76 lbs when we meet him, and 175 cm/5'9 and 72 kg/159 lbs at the epilogue.

8. Unpopular opinion about them? i think the popular opinion is that natsume is a baby boy who deserves peace and love after a childhood of rage and agony but if you disagree, i'll throw u off a cliff myself.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character? im gonna be real with u. he was my fav from the start. i never ever had negative feelings towards him ever from the beginning. is that weird? idk. i dont really care. i saw him with his mask and was determined to watch the whole anime just bc he was in it.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)? it's really hard for me to answer this but i think my favorite natsume moment is when he finally rebels against the ESP and persona... something he'd always wanted to do but couldn't, finally given the chance through the knowledge that he'd rather be dead than allow mikan to live through the same suffering that he does.

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done? getting mikan to play the prince. he's so fucking stupid.

14. Most heroic moment? he wishes it was his death scene! i think his most heroic moment was when he decided to go to the academy for his sister. i pick this scene and not any others bc when natsume risks his life later on, part of it is motivated by suicidal ideation so it's kinda hard for me to think of those moments as anything but.

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done? same answer as ruka's. yes i say this even knowing that he might have killed people during DA missions. those other ppl arent real to me; mikan is.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them? again, zoe and i made a killer playlist for the main 4 ga characters. natsume's is the best though, we both agree. since, again, the playlist is still under construction, here are some tracks from it that suit him. (lots of them are triggering, particularly regarding thoughts of suicide, just as a warning.)

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about? everything? trauma, self-image, martyr complex, suicidal ideation, dealing with terminal illness... there's a lot.

19. Vices/bad habits? he has a lot! the worst is his overuse of his alice.

20. Scars? i'm sure he has some. DA missions are not safe and although natsume is canonically immune to his own fire, he's not immune to flying shrapnel and rubble. i like the anime showing us some glimpses into what his missions might look like. we even got to see him get shot, an injury he (presumably) patched up himself instead of going to the hospital for, which is VERY in character. the anime NAILED that episode (chef's kiss, best episode ever, hands down).

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)? cherry dr pepper (this is just a ridiculous joke zoe and i made that is now serious. what a sickening beverage)

22. Best physical feature? his eyes! so pretty. i also love his silky hair. he is SO pretty and has sUCH pretty eyelashes. most beautiful boy ever.

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like? he'd be a lovely scent, very woody and foresty. not floral or sweet.

24. Most annoying habit? martyr complex.

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like? it's hard to imagine natsume having a tumblr tbh but i think if he did it would be a little anticlimactic. he'd mainly just reblog stupid self-deprecating jokes and edgy music.

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh? jokes with ruka <3 teasing mikan <3 :)

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry? sadly, natsume rarely cries. but he cries when he loses someone, so leaving his father, and i think he must have cried when he woke up after dying just to find out mikan was gone.

35. Their idea of a perfect day? a good day would probably be if he doesn't have to go on a mission. a perfect day would be the two christmases where he got to kiss mikan. i think he went to sleep very happy those nights.

36. Their favorite season? spring <3 though i always associate him with autumn and winter.

37. What they really think about themselves? BAD. not worth the trouble. exists for others. similar nonsense.

38. Favorite holiday? CHRISTMAS

39. Favorite game? playing cards with ruka! also its easy to imagine him being into video games, particularly violent ones.

40. Favorite book? i think he'd prefer manga to books but if he were to read books i think he'd like fucked up shit. maybe horror like stephen king or something.

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be? his mom

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise? i base this off of official art (thus, canon), but pasta, chocolate, and strawberries are his favorite foods. i think he wouldnt like coffee (thats why he always drinks it in my fics lmao....) and i like imagining him as being a childishly picky eater. i dont really have any evidence for his dislikes. just vibes.

44. Their happiest memory? meeting ruka and both christmases <3

46. The person they most admire? i think he would admire his mother and yuka a lot. obviously, he also admires ruka and mikan, for being unlike him.

47. Their dream job? he simply does not dream of labor. it's really hard for me to come up with a job he'd love bc of how he's been forced to work as an actual child. he likes manga... maybe something involved with that?

48. Scariest moment of their life? when aoi burned down the village, though i do think he's had lots of scary moments after that too. i just think that was probably the moment he realized how powerless he really was, how much he was at the mercy of others simply bc he was a child.

49. Favorite toy as a child? i think he'd probably be a big fan of matchbox cars? or maybe im saying that bc i liked matchbox cars. (and also cuz theyre called matchbox cars). he seems to like basketball too!

50. A memory they’ve blocked out? natsume is a big ball of trauma so i wouldnt be surprised if there was plenty. i think he's kind of forced to compartmentalize a lot, since his experiences in the DA class are so gruesome and different from his school life, so he'd be forced to pretend like he didn't just go on a terrifying mission last night, which leads to unprocessed trauma and maybe even blurred memories.

Mikan <3

1. Canon I outright reject? if higuchi tachibana doubting that "natsume won" is canon, then i reject it. mikan MADE A CHOICE. in your manga, higuchi!!!! she even says, "these feelings i have only for you", which means the only person she loves romantically is natsume. higuchi YOU WROTE THIS.

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on? ^^^ that one. also she's not a masochist.

3. Obscure headcanon? even though natsume can have a potentially atrocious taste in fashion, i think mikan would find his fits cute nonetheless, maybe just bc it's him!

4. Favorite line? I love when she tells natsume to join her team before the sports fest. she NEVER asks for anything from natsume or tells him how she feels but she takes a risk this once and it's wonderful until he rejects her and she takes a long while to recover from that moment where she finally put herself out there only to get turned down.

5. Best personality trait? perseverance, in regards to difficult times and difficult people.

6. Worst personality trait? toxic positivity

7. Age/height/weight headcanon? we have canon!! she is (unbeknownst to her) eleven years old when she first comes to the academy and is turning seventeen when we see her again in the last chapters. she's 138 cm/4'6 and 33 kg/73 lbs at her debut and 158 cm/5'2 and 47 kg/104 lbs at the last chapters.

8. Unpopular opinion about them? it's okay that she's stupid! i dislike when mikan is made so much smarter, or when they significantly alter her personality, in fics. i think she's pretty great the way she is!

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character? HARD TO SAY. regrettably i wasn't always a huge fan of mikan, especially in the anime, bc i thought she was annoying. but i think when i matured just a little, it was hard to keep it up. i think i fully loved her on the second rewatch/reread. i couldnt tell u the specific scene bc it was too long ago.

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)? i reread just this little moment so often. i'm not saying it's a healthy moment, hiding her feelings until she's alone, but it's so her and it's so heart-crushing and tragic. i love it.

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done? she's frequently stupid, but i really enjoy this moment, just bc of how naive she is, both to natsume's situation and to her own feelings. (mikan, girl, you're in love with him.)

14. Most heroic moment? is there anything more heroic than this?

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done? mikan rarely does things out of ill-will. i could say one of her well-intentioned blunders, but that feels cheap. i'll say this, then, when mikan tells natsume that him worrying about her is a bother. i'll talk about it during my essay, but mikan says that, against her urges to keep him with her, because she remembers the pain of him choosing luna over her and she, in that moment, reacts in a kneejerk way to make him hurt a little too. it's the only moment i can think of where she hurts somebody without at least meaning well. (and YES i know that this is right after luna told her to keep their encounter a secret, but mikan chooses to be cold to natsume in a way that she isnt towards hotaru or her other friends for asking similar questions.)

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves? mikan never admits anything to herself! that she loves natsume sticks out the most though.

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them? AGAIN, zoe and i made playlists for the main 4 but they're unsuitable for consumption right now, so here are some mikan flavored tracks!

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about? her little useless complex as well as her toxic positivity and all the trauma she had to endure in a very short time frame.

19. Vices/bad habits? "keep smiling, mikan, no matter what!"

21. Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)? orange juice and orange soda

22. Best physical feature? her smile, allegedly! i love the way her eyes are drawn (my answer for everyone is eyes bc i LOVE the way higuchi draws eyes...). i, like natsume, also LOVE when her hair is down.

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like? she'd be like her name, and have a fruity, floral scent! very sweet!

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like? i think it would be super cute with lots of bright, fun colors, desserts, and positivity quotes.

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh? she smiles a lot. i like her genuine smiles, when she hears something she likes or spends quality time with people she loves.

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry? mikan is sensitive! thus she cries a lot! she cries when people around her are hurt, she cries when she doesn't get what she wants, or when things get hard. i think it's sweet.

35. Their idea of a perfect day? spending time with her class b pals with some light antics and shenanigans, or hanging out with her senpais in the special ability class would make her happy. later, going on dates with natsume, too. <3

36. Their favorite season? summer, but the lovely thing is how happy and awestruck mikan seems to be by every passing season. she loves them all! it's very sweet, how much love she has for life.

37. What they really think about themselves? despite her tendency to see the beauty or value in everything, she doesn't see much in herself. she thinks of herself as ordinary, boring, useless. she knows that people love her smile but she thinks that's all she has to offer so she hides her negative feelings away. ;-;

38. Favorite holiday? new year's!!!

39. Favorite game? she loves all games, but especially sports and high-activity games

40. Favorite book? she'd like high-spirited books with wacky characters, like pippi longstocking, anne of green gables, or matilda.

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be? her parents and jii-chan

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise? obviously she loves oranges and she eats lots of oranges in the manga. i like to think she shares hotaru's love for seafood, bc seafood reminds her of hotaru, but hotaru is so insane abt it that mikan seems to have a tame love in comparison. and HOWALON, obviously. i dont think mikan would dislike much food or be a picky eater bc she loves to eat <3

44. Their happiest memory? i think her school memories with her friends, particularly lighthearted moments, would stick out as happiest. the culture fest or the dodgeball game or swimming class.

46. The person they most admire? hotaru, natsume, ruka, etc. she admires lots of people. she has a tendency to see the good parts of people and to focus on them until that's the main thing she sees.

47. Their dream job? i like to see mikan in people-oriented, caring-based roles, like as a nurse or a teacher, where there's emphasis on helping people. i think she'd really thrive in a career like that. i especially like imagining her as a teacher. (her husband can share some pretty decent benefits from such a career afaik)

48. Scariest moment of their life? probably the whole night of the escape arc. no part of that was easy. the entire night was stressful and scary

49. Favorite toy as a child? she makes her own mikan dolls! mikan is awful at homemade things, like cooking or sewing, but she loves it anyway! i think she liked making her own toys and seeing the beauty in her ugly little creations.

50. A memory they’ve blocked out? i think mikan would try and remember the hard moments so that she can get stronger, just based on the way she talks about such moments, like after pengy dies.