#yeah its a bit frustrating but ive had some time to get to terms with it

[tciddaemina]

man you guys are really sweet 😭😭 thank you all, you're really kind

can't remember if i updated you guys, but the damaged hard drive was a write off in the end. the data was lost, so all the writing i hoped to recover end up disappearing into the abyss. i'm working on catching back up on the stuff i lost (which included a few chapters of planning for with the tail of the snake and also about half of a new fun scifi smutty original short story). anyway, things are coming along, that's what i wanted to say, so hopefully should see some new stuff coming out soon

[papakhan]

i think you misunderstood me. i wasn't trying to say you were misinterpreting the character, just that you approach him somewhat differently than i do, in some significant ways, and maybe not even him per se, just "what comes next", so to speak.

i also wasn't saying that boone shouldn't feel remorse about what hes done, because, like, yeah, he really damn should. and unfortunately the bias against the great khans that permeate the games writing rears its ugly head again--i mean, some of the fan favorites call them dirty people who need to be chased out of the mojave, and while that in itself isnt bad writing (characters can be bigoted and biased), it feels like the player is given very little in terms of retaliating against those statements and the games assumed status quo that the ncr supposedly has more legitimacy in its presence than the khans do. i was more getting at where that remorse would take him, because as you said, his storyline is largely concerned with his own feelings while the game gives you no real way to make him snap the hell out of it, stop justifying the atrocities he was a part of as some inevitability he sadly has to bear, and overall stop making it about himself and open his tiny eyes to whats actually happening and what can be done. like, yeah, he could go from suicidal gestures to groveling, and again to be clear he should feel sorry, but i feel like thats still centering his emotional journey.

as for defending bitter springs, like. yes, the refugee camp at bitter springs is in itself an ugly truth of an image of the ncr, revealing it as a force that tramples over people and commits atrocities and then names itself protectors of whats left. terrible protectors too, seeing how poor and understaffed the refugee camp is. i wish that in itself couldve had some sort of impact on the man as well. still, in terms of material consequences, boone protected the refugees, and while once again that doesnt Repay for anything or Make Up for anything, i dont think it was necessarily the ultimate point of the quest. as you pointed out, it wasnt great khans he protected from the legion, it was refugees from arizona and the handful of ncr staff. theres not any kinda neat bow put on it, there's no coming full circle. being denied a selfish "heroic" death in favor of, like, protecting some people he doesnt know, i think its interesting and could serve as a way to pull him out of this spiral. maybe its wishful thinking on my part, but the difference between novac boone and post-independent boone IS that ncr has completely withdrawn from the area and boone took part in the actions that lead to that. but i could just be wishing things had been written differently. oh! and you brought up giving him up to the great khans to judge, its something ive thought about before, and i wish it was something you could do in the game.

anyway... im sorry if i came off as confrontational in my first anon, i saw that you were answering asks about it and i wanted to offer my own perspective. none of it was said to undermine yours.

well first of all I'd like to say I'm sorry for being hostile, it's difficult for me to interpret tone at the best of times and even worse over text so I appreciate you telling me that didnt mean to sound confrontational and i'm sorry for taking it that way

i think its just frustrating to me that like. idk the Joshua Graham dickriding has died down a bit recently because people have finally figured out that despite the game framing him as the good guy hes actually still a terrible person and the writers were wrong for what they did (the racism most of all) but then people still lick Boones/the NCR's boots

but your perspective is refreshing i think youre right yeah, Boone shouldn't really be the centre of the "victims of the bitter springs massacre" because. he's not a victim. he is a perpetrator. on that you have made me realise that yeah even if hes begging for forgiveness even then its still bad for it to centre him at all

And the Khans being one of the power houses of Vegas pre-NCR is woefully underexplored but tbh given how the rest of the Khans are handled I don't even think its a time constrains thing its just a writers thing. i've complained enough about how the Followers treat the Khans in game not really lining up with how they used to work together / can work together in the future but that's a whole other thing

i still think the fight for bitter springs is still the climax of the I Forgot to Remember to Forget questline, its supposed to be what snaps boone out of it and lets the player come to some kind of resolution with him. They're not exactly good or helpful resolutions, because as I have said before he still doesn't respect the Khans and as you have also said this is a problem with the game as a whole. and he's still protecting people he doesnt know for ultimately selfish reasons. It's a step. I guess. and yknow its a video game with only two conclusions for a quest, the rest of those steps are kind of up to interpretation.

its the beauty of fanworks and what have you. like I said my perspective is more one of frustration. Me liking the Khans so much and examining the game from their POV when the game kinda hates them and that feeds into the fanart/writing and looking at Boone is just. I'm just tired

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/724520280283856896/im-gonna-be-honest-i-think-people-need-to-chill?source=share

To all those comments

Yes i do forget my cis friends pronouns. Especially when they are suddenky trying something new.

But the thing is i dont have visual indicators for alot of them, and it wouldnt matter if i did because someones looks dont determine their pronouns. All my friends are online or penpals. Sometimes i get voice but that doesnt mean shit when i cant remember who is talking half the time. Or that i remeber the persons whos talkings pronouns

Alot of my online friends have their like... Birth pronounss aswell as something else. Some of them prefer the other thing. Mate im in a discord server i cannot remember every single persons pronouns in there.

Some of my friends put their pronouns in their username. And that helps, sometimes ill remember it longer because of the repitition of seeing it. But even then i am still able to forget it. Its harder when im focusing on a game and not able to focus on remembering someones pronouns.

For my pen pals we spend so much time emailing or mailing eachother that we dont even talk about pronouns. Our own pronouns rarely ever even come up ive even had ny first one admit they forgot mine and was too afraid to ask at that point and avoided it at all costs because theyvdidntvwant to risk lossing me as a friend. It wasnt a big deal.

And you know what? They dont have so much of a problem with it as yall do. I forget things. All the time i forget things. Most of my friends also have disorders or disabilities of somekind so they understand. I just forget things.

Sometimes i have to look back at discord to see the name of whoever is talking to me. Like i said i forget peoples names.

Im sorry yall cant understand that i really do forget things.

And even then. Even if my memory werent so trash. People forget things all the time. Even people with a good memory. Sometimes you get so absorbed in something your talking too fast and focusing on something that you use the wrong pronouns for someone or who your talking to. This happens to one of my friends occasionally.

Its not a big deal. My pronouns get forgottem all the time too. Honestly i dont care personally about it becaise i prefer to be called by my name instead. Newer people get my pronouns wrong all the time. Its nit a big deal. Hell i dont even know if my sister even knows what my pronouns are.

I get that it can be frustrating. I do try. But i cannot help it if i cant remeber something.

"just ask" i do. But sometimes i dont think before i talk or think ive remebered them correctly and i get them wrong.

As someone with the worst memory on earth, you can tell whos doing it on purpose and who has actually just forgotten.

Also thanks for jumping to conclusions and getting mad because you cant comprehend the life of someone other than yourself. I have bigger problems than remembering my friends pronouns specifically. Its not like i dont try to remember them, but like with everything else i just forget them. I forget things about my long term friends because our lives and friendship dont revolve around remembering eachothers pronouns and then berating eachother for forgetting. Most of what we do is talk about games or books we read. What shops weve been going to or bad snacks we try. In between all the actaul stuff we do its normal to forget things that arent talked about.

And i prefer it like that rather than some big art discord i tried joining a while back and there was almost twice weekly drama over someone forgetting someones pronouns. That level of stress and worry over pronouns is not normal for anyone. And. Yeah some of those times it was people dping it on purpose bit most of them from what i saw was usually teenagers antagonizing others for not focusing their entire life on what pronouns they were using. Even when someone apologized it wasnt enough. It was disgusting to see and stressful.

Idk what to tell any of you.

--

Frankly, I think a lot of the disagreements are actually over what 'friends' implies.

[cartoonrival]

OK boruto verdict. thus far obviously. i assumed part 1 of the anime would be ending right before the timeskip shippuden-style but that isn't what happened lol. so i guess the split is kind of arbitrary. anywho its not as good as naruto which is to be expected. but its cute!

i was tbh pretty shocked that boruto stands out as his own character pretty well. he still has some of the Shounen Protag Syndrome that naruto had, meaning its not particularly difficult to guess what he would do in a given situation and there is an element of same-ness to him and every other cheery roughboy protagonist, and there's still a lot of overlap between him and naruto, but i think he's very cute. i love his stubbornness and black and white thinking. he reads as someone who grew up in a loving household but has a mounting frustration with feeling trapped without really knowing whats trapping him.

tbh my biggest issue with boruto thus far i think is that it feels very undercooked, like theres a ton of interesting dynamics that are introduced then barely explored, and if they are its in a kind of cursory way that doesn't really show a lot of respect for the characters involved. the biggest offender with this imo is naruto and boruto's relationship, but sarada and boruto, mitsuki and boruto (mitsuki and sarada on their own as well tbr), and sasuke and sarada are also big examples.

naruto's characterization sort of seems like its gotten lost in an attempt to make him more mature, which like Yeah he should be more mature and i don't think that "naruto is the hokage now and because of how dedicated he is to konoha and to maintaining peace and making everyone in the village feel like they belong, he ends up being stretched too thin and boruto starts to feel ignored and left behind by someone who should be his biggest supporter" is illogical, but his ability to verbally tell people he cares about that he cares seems to have taken a hit, not just his ability to SHOW it (which could logically be stunted by his role as hokage). there shouldve been more exploration into naruto's feelings about boruto as his wayward son who causes problems and doesn't know what he wants. boruto's pov was well and good, but the whole dynamic feels half baked because it's written in a way that naruto isn't supposed to be the focus of it, even though there are obviously two equally important sides to a parent-child dynamic. for naruto's feelings to be so unexplored beyond "i'm so busy" and "i don't want him to grow up" is just a bit of a let down. dgmw there were definitely still really powerful moments between the two of them, but considering parent-child relationships is sort of a focal point of the series i feel like the amount of direct attention that naruto's feelings towards boruto are getting is a disservice.

tbh though i think a lot of the naruto cast has been watered down at least somewhat in order to fill a role that needed to be filled, ive complained about temari a couple times, sakura is rarely seen without an apron on, etc. sasuke is honestly fine, but im genuinely sick with want for a look into how he feels about his and naruto's families in a way that doesn't feel like im being lied to, even though that will never happen. but to be honest his relationship with boruto serves as a pretty good indicator. lol.

i think its interesting that we're exploring a love/obsession/devotion sort of situation this round, again i think it could be made to hurt more but its fine. everything could be made to hurt more. but whatever. its an interesting way to expand on the power and value of love themes in naruto. its unique if anything, which is nice because there are a LOT of story beats that feel lifted right out of naruto. i quite like kawaki in a vacuum, he feels sort of like an odd one out in the cast though im not really sure how that could be remedied. i think he and boruto needed to interact more on regular terms before they started calling each other brother and saying i feel like i could do anything when im with you etc. slow down cowboy! but kawaki's situation as someone who was so horribly abused, finds a family that loves him and is truly and heartfully accepted by naruto as a son, then to become dangerously devoted to protecting naruto because he's the first person to make kawaki feel like his life was worth anything, is Quite interesting to me. if a bit sudden. but i guess thats intentional too.

the plot itself is very very much an ohhh you thought you defeated that guy? well he has SEVERAL friends! type situation. like this didn't need to happen and was clearly tacked on. but its p much exactly what i expected and its managed to create some pretty effective moments for what it is. the fights are really cool and don't drag their feet as much as the ones in naruto did, which is nice.

overall its good, its cute, the new characters are fun even if its at the expense of some of the OGs. there are a million things that i think need to be explored that aren't aliens, but i know they never will be etc. its fine. (it isnt.) it feels more cobbled together than naruto did. but its cute.

[elytrafemme]

hi :]! I am awake at ungodly times but! I’ve been thinking about uhh sibilance (sibilant sounds?) recently and I forgot the words for the other ones bc I know that’s only the repitition of s sounds at the start of a word etc etc. But sibilant sounds and all that -> it makes me think of poetry even though I think it’s more often in prose? or at least I think I saw it more in prose back when I was doing classes on that kinda thing. idk. I keep accidentally doing it though (not just with s sounds) and wondering what that makes the sentence sound like since it’s usually used to give off a particular vibe and I’m not meaning to give it any particular vibe o(-(

was wondering if u had any opinions on the whole thing -> I do like it bc it makes the sentence flow nicely like a little waterfall or something. although some of them aren’t supposed to right? I feel like some are supposed to sound a little harsh. just pulling from my memory though so idrk .Some make a little ssss sound like a snake 🐍 that’s fun

anyway hope u are doing well ! wishing u the best as always :]

HI BRACKETT sorry im just now getting to this HAHA but ty for reminding me to respond earlier :>

I've never heard about this but its super super cool!!!! alliteration is something i only really explore in small doses as the farther i push it i feel like the more muddled your intent actually gets, which i think is sort of similar to this! (since it's like... alliteration with s but more specifically that sound of s, like a hiss) i've never seen it as a vibe giver persay but more as something that drives you forward -- if you think about the rhythm of a piece, it's going to fall in a very specific way when you get to words with alliteration (usually quicker in my experience) which kind of stops you in your tracks while reading and then reorients you as you continue. it's the kind of thing you want to use either as you build up to a very near peak (like the next line or two you say) OR at the height of your peak, though i would encourage the first one more or at least write that way. but with everything its like do whatever the fuck you want etc etc this is just ! my takes and stuff

rhythm is so fucking hard, like the recent stuff i've worked on has been a nightmare in a rhythmic sense because it mostly is meant to be poetry writing in a prose adjacent style. as a whole ive been thinking more about the small choices people make in poetry, though; was reading a poem that had a very specific stanza break while also having enjambment at that part and i was reading it like ... why is that where you put the stanza break? etc it's really interesting and can be frustrating but u gotta just trust that people write what they wanna write and everything!

but yeah! in terms of vibes i also think that alliteration and similar stuff like sibilance give off that sharper vibe -- if we're looking at alliteration with b or p or k or t is absolutely feels like the kind of thing you announce very crisply which is mostly refreshing, versus s and f and so kind of slow it down OR speed it up in a way that feels like it has a drawl to it. maybe just bc of where i live and the kind of peotry im TRYING to get into more but it gives me US southern energies a bit.

anyway!!! srry for the delay i hope this ramble kinda answered what u were trying to ask me HAHA,thank u for telling mea bout this bc ive literally never heard of this before but it is so so cool!!!!! <3333 always good hearing from u my friend

[niskoo]

Memories kept in the pink hoodie

pairing: Ex! Heeseung x reader

genre: angst, fluff in the end ig, breakup! AU

warnings: swearing, uhhh they like break down together

word count: 2.2k words OMG

a/n: another one of my requests!! thank you all for the ideas its really helping!! mmm this one was very interesting to write because i usually write crack/fluff, aaannndd ive literally never done anything ive written IURHWIU thank you for the great idea anon <33 THIS HELPED SO MUCH OMG USUALLY MY ANGST SUCKS BUT IM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS AAAA ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS WASNT REALLY WHAT YOU WANTED IDK THERE ALWAYS HAS TO BE FLUFF IN MY IMAGINES IG 😓😭

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!!

a bit based off of 'try again' by jaehyun and d.ear

You should've known the consequences of dating an idol, you should've been careful. Of course they wouldn't let you be together, he's in one of the rising groups, heck, he was in one of the biggest companies.

It wasn't necessarily the company's fault you were so heartbroken, it's both your faults. You couldn't help but blame each other for how careless you were. You know better than to make things worse, and yet you did.

The evening you go back to his dorm after being confronted by the company, you two started a huge argument of who's fault it was. Either it was his fault for not taking caution during work, or your fault for always checking up on him. All loving actions in the past became reasons for why you should break up, thus cracking your relationship further.

When you went home that night, with your backpack full of your things, you did nothing. You didn't cry, you didn't rage, you simply thought that this was the end, you felt guilty that it had to end like this, instead of just working it out and breaking it off peacefully.

Your heart was left cracked and hurt for sure, but this time, you blame yourself. You shouldn't have met him, you shouldn't have got to know him, it's all your fault. And for the first time that night, you cry.

Your heart clenched at every thought of having to leave Heeseung, more tears falling at the fact that he's not gonna be a part of your life anymore. He's gone, and it's all your fault.

It's when you unpack your things when you realize you still have a bunch of things left at his place, you realize you never want to go back and face him.

You leave your stuff there for the next 2 days, your heart still unready to confront and be reminded of the fact that Heeseung is gone. Unfortunately, he has other plans.

Your phone lights up, and the last name you want to see is lighting the phone up.

'Hey... you left some of your stuff.'

You instantly turn your phone off, breaths picking up as you quickly look away from it and finish your lunch. You can feel the anxiety filling your body as you notice it light up once again, and it swarms in your chest even more when your mother winces at the next text.

You put down your spoon, quickly glancing at the text.

'If you want, you can come by and pick them up? I'll pack them for you...'

Your heart clenches yet once again, you know it's true, literally half your stuff is still there and you have to pick them up. You unlock your phone, quickly sending an 'okay' before completely shutting your phone down. You wouldn't stand a second more looking at his contact.

You decide to go at 11, because that's when the other members are at the company training. You don't know if Heeseung's gonna be there to give you your things, a part of you hopes he is, another hopes he's not there. But then again, who else would open the door for you?

You stand outside the familiar door nervously, picking on your nails and the lint on the hem of your cardigan. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, and instead of your ex boyfriend standing there it's the youngest of the group, his eyes wide and puffy lips parted.

As usual, he woke up late. You can't help but chuckle as he picks his shoes up and scurries down the stairs, bidding him a friendly goodbye.

You almost forget about Heeseung, but as you hear shuffling from inside, it all comes back.

You two share awkward glances, the tension slowly building itself back up. Instead of the heated, rage filled tension, this time the tension is guilty, and without each other knowing, yearning.

“T-this way,” Heeseung mutters tightly, eyes glued to the ground as he shuffled quickly to the living room. You follow along just a few seconds later, still processing the fact that this is the end. He could be gone out of your life after this, it’s your last chance to speak.

Your eyes slowly travel up when you stop, the beating of your heart quickening with the slight burning in your eyes. Lo and behold, there your things laid, ready for you to bring back home. You can’t help but notice how it’s packed completely how Heeseung would pack, neat and with care. It’s not too stuffed, it’s in the perfect place.

Biting at the dead skin of your lip, you trudge towards the duffle bag—his duffle bag—and kneel down to grab the handle. The moment you pick it up, you notice how the bag isn’t fully zipped, and a certain pink sleeve peaks out from the tiny space.

All too familiar, the pink sleeve was. It was the one he took from Daniel in I-land. He knew you loved it, for you loved the kid like your little brother. But, he can’t. It’s his, it’s his favorite, he can’t just give it to his ex.

You instantly place the bag down, the tears starting to well up in frustration and sadness. You zip open the bag and take the pink hoodie out, before shoving it into Heeseung’s chest, “Take it, Heeseung, Please don’t give it to me.”

It takes him a few moments, before Heeseung is shaking his head and handing it back to you. “No, it’s practically yours anyway. And you really like it right? It’s just a-“

“Don’t tell me it’s just a hoodie!”

You both are shocked at your sudden burst, frozen in your spot. Your breathing is heavy, like a weight is holding it down and slowing your breathing. There are tears keeping your cheek moist, warm, they stream down continuously, the sensation as if there was fire dripping from your eyes and burning your skin.

Heeseung’s just on the verge of crying himself, the grip on the pink hoodie deathly, he feels the material ripping against his skin. How did it come to this? When did it even happen? It all feels surreal, to think what you two had could fall apart.

All the happy moments in your relationship fading to memories, the hoodie representing the fact itself is true. None of you wanted to take it, afraid it would remind you of the other.

Deep down, you wanted to keep it, keep the memories it held, keep the tears that once soaked it when you vented all your stress to him, keep the scent of Heeseung that lingered on the fabric. You were just too afraid of being reminded that along with the happy memories, came the sad memories of the night you fought and broke it off.

Your grip on the poor hoodie eases, as you slide to the floor helplessly with tears messing your face up. You desperately wanted to hold the pink piece of clothing and keep it forever, and another part of you cursed at you for being too vulnerable.

Your hand quickly wipes away the tears on your cheeks and chin harshly, almost hitting yourself for being so sensitive. Before you could do the action again, a softer grasp is stopping your hand, Heeseung’s other hand reaching up to brush the tears away dearly, blowing your hair away from your face.

Before you could even bring yourself to stop, you’re already reacting to his touch, cowering into his hold and placing your hand over his on your cheek, almost intertwining them together.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his palm, your other hand reaching up to grasp at his t-shirt. You’re sorry for so many reasons, for not being careful, for all the things you said in the argument, for making a sudden commotion just because of a stupid hoodie. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Heeseung grabs you into his infamous embrace you would hate to leave, stroking your back with patterns just the way he knew you loved, just the way it would calm you down. “We’ll be alright.”

More tears fall between your eyelashes, dripping and soaking into Heeseung’s shoulder as he himself sniffles quietly into your hair. None of you want to leave each other behind, it’s the painful truth that you both can’t have, the truth you’ve always feared.

A sudden feeling of relief fills you up inside, his words reassure you in a way, we’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, it just had to leave his lips for you to believe it. You crawl closer to Heeseung, squeezing yourself in his bear hug, “We’ll be okay, we can make it right,”

A hoarse and hearty laugh leaves Heeseung, it shakes right by your ear as you press it against his chest, and he nods, “Yeah,”

He gently pulls your head back right in front of his, wiping the last of your tears and tucking the stray hairs back to the back of your ear, “Let’s just talk,” his whisper tickles your nose, causing you to lightly giggle at the feeling, his lips pressing softly against the pink tinted skin, “Make everything better?”

You nod, finally grasping at the pink hoodie and holding it tight to your chest as Heeseung laughs and bonks his forehead right on yours.

For the next few hours, you talk, make up, talk some more, maybe even a small cuddle, but that’s a secret. You make ramen for when the other members come back from practice, you feel happy to see the members thank you and eat with enthusiasm, you feel glad this is how your last moments together last.

Now you have the (practically ripped) pink hoodie in your arms as you bid the boys goodbye, slightly tearing up at the sight of them sadly waving, but you keep it in and continue your way back home, where you would tell your mom how you ended it on good terms.

And that night, you slip on the pink hoodie before you sleep, and you feel a piece of paper poking at your arm. You’re surprised to see a crumpled envelope poking out, your name written messily in blue ink.

You pull the envelope out quickly, opening it out with something bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you notice the handwriting as Heeseung’s.

‘My dear Y/n,

Hello there! I don’t know if i got the guts to make it right with you or if i pussied out and watched you as you drove away with regrets, but that’s what this letter is for. hopefully you didn’t throw this letter away hehe

i just wanted to thank you. for everything. your love, your care, your trust, Your happiness, thank you for everything you’ve given me. im sorry we had to end our journey, but know that you’ll be in my mind everyday. when we practice, I’ll remember your encouraging smile, when we win, I'll remember the fact that it’s you who gave me the courage to start this whole career.

i love you y/n. we’ll both probably find our other person in the future, but you’ll forever be in my heart as my first love, my first heartbreak, my best memory. thank you for helping me through my hardest times, thank you for helping the other boys through their worst times, especially jungwon, he’ll miss you the most.

i guess this is goodbye, y/n. not forever, of course, but for some time. thank you for everything, i hope you enjoyed the times we had together as much as i did.

with all the love in my heart,

Lee Heeseung :)’

You wipe at your tears for the nth time that day, folding the paper back into the envelope. “Fuck you Heeseung, you’ve ruined my makeup again!” You curse under your breath as you slip the letter into a certain box at the corner of your bedside table, patting your cheeks one last time.

You truly cherish the memories you had with Heeseung. You hope he does too.

[thelarriefics]

HOLIDAY FIC REC, PART IV: Below you’ll find more fics that have to do with the holiday season. 

📖 (I'm Dreaming of a) One Night Inn by @lululawrence (54k)

When everything Louis had planned for his life falls through, and on his birthday no less, he's left with no other option but to regroup and start over again. The road of life isn't always straight and it certainly isn't always easy, but sometimes it's those twists and turns that find you your closest friends and—if you're really lucky—the love of your life.

Louis just happens to be very lucky.

A Holiday Inn AU.

📖 Baby, Won't You Look My Way? by @peachbootylouis (50k)

Louis tiptoed to the door and opened it, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Harry looked absolutely gorgeous, almost enough to make him strip back down and give it another go. But that wasn’t who Louis was. So he sighed and stepped outside, leaving back to his flat. And for the first time in years, he felt alive.

Or the where Louis’ routine centered life runs like clockwork until a chance hook up throws a wrench named Harry into it all. But as it may turn out a change in plans could be what Louis has needed all along.

📖 Ideal: An Advent Fic by @iamasphodelknox (40k)

All Louis wanted was some god-damned time to write his novel. He didn’t expect to move his and Liam’s entire production of a Christmas variety show to a small inn in Vermont just before the holidays. He didn’t expect to save Niall’s inn. He didn’t expect Liam to fall in love. He definitely didn’t expect to fall in love himself. And he certainly didn’t expect it all to feel so much like a Christmas movie.

Oh hell. There’s a lot of things Louis didn’t expect.

A White Christmas au, complete with drama, fluff, choreographed dance numbers, and idiotic boys falling in love. Just your typical Christmas fun.

📖 The Happiest Season by @sadaveniren (37k)

“You’re going to spend Christmas - and your birthday - with his homophobic WASP parents? That’s gonna be hell.”

Louis closed his eyes in frustration. “It was either that or be apart and I don’t think that’s gonna be good for either of us this year, you know?”

A fic loosely based on Happiest Season but make it ... different

📖 maybe this christmas by @nobodymoves (34k)

Harry lives next door to Louis and babysits his daughter. He might be hopelessly in love with Louis and desperate to be part of his little family, but he’s ignoring that in favour of trying to make Louis’s busy life as easy as possible. When he finds out Louis and his daughter don’t believe in Santa - someone who is universally considered a real person - he makes it his mission to convince them. Along the way he takes in a man who may or may not actually be Santa, and everyone’s Christmas wishes might come true.

A Miracle on 34th Street AU.

📖 Retiens la nuit by @teamlouis2020 (26k)

Everything is too much for Harry. His exboyfriend, his job, his whole life actually. Flying across the globe to find a quiet place for Christmas holidays is exactly what he needs. Among a warm cottage and snow-covered fields, he doesn't expect to come across Louis, the beautiful stranger that stumbled into his house one night. Love isn't supposed to find a way to his heart, but Christmas has its magic tricks, hasn't it?

📖 Neither Wine Nor Dine by @brightgolden (25k)

With Louis’ fringe taking up half of his forehead and eyes crinkling at the side with how wide he grins just by looking at their Christmas tree, he looked so much like the 19 year old boy Harry met in the living room of his shared two-bedroom apartment years ago.

It's too bad that Harry doesn't get to see it often.

OR

Where Harry is too busy travelling the world and Louis is home during Christmas.

📖 Baby, You're On My List by @chloehl10 (17k)

Harry takes his niece to see Father Christmas, but he doesn't count on meeting the cutest Christmas elf. Taken by the handsome stranger, Harry decides to recruit as many children as he can so he can see him again, and again, and again...

📖 The fic where Harry calls Louis an idiot for ten days straight because he is one. by @mercurial-madhouse (16k)

They’ve found the perfect get away from their busy lives as nationally-famous footie player and well-respected restaurant critic, escaping to the isolation of a cabin in the woods where they can simply be Louis and Harry.

If only both were actually here.

A gift forgotten in London, the untameable force of the weather, and the scent of burnt snickerdoodle biscuits find Harry and Clifford pitifully alone and Louis... Where is Louis?

📖 Unwrap My Heart by @larryficwriter (15k)

Harry is flabbergasted, that much is clear. He also looks emotional, understandably. A little excited shiver runs through Louis’ body because this is just the beginning.

“Harry,” Louis begins as soon as the song is over. “This begins 12 Days of presents that I have planned for you. Each day you’ll get another present from me that will hopefully show you that you mean the world to me.”

or, the 12 Days of Christmas: Larry Edition

📖 The Ideal Flatmate by @larryyouknow (12k)

Louis shares his flat with the ideal flatmate (or I-F as he often nicknames him). Harry is a bit younger and a bit taller than him. He’s polite and there is nothing to complain about. Harry rarely brings someone over, he isn’t loud, he eats at the table and when he uses the shared area for his crafting projects he always tidies after himself. Harry doesn’t bother Louis and he pays his share in time.

The ideal flatmate.

The only problem is: Harry hates Louis. This will be very lovely Christmas.

📖 Fine Lines by @harrystinysantashorts (11k)

The short story is there are two little, white sticks sitting on the bathroom counter with two little, pink lines on both of them. The long story is that that’s never happened before.

or, Harry gets the surprise of a lifetime and decides it’ll be the perfect Christmas present.

📖 Run to Me Through The White Night by @mizzhydes (8k)

A horrid last-minute shopping trip amidst a mass of teenage girls and their parents was not what Louis was hoping to get roped into two days before Christmas.

The day started out dreadfully, but fate had something different in store for Louis that day. A chance encounter between a famous pop star and an everyday lad, gave way to an evening that neither of them would ever forget.

📖 In Search of the Perfect Tree by @beanno28 (5k)

Harry and Louis work together at Home Depot and are also in a long term relationship. Harry is getting ready to get the store ready for the holiday season. When Louis decides he wants in on the action and their coworkers plan a tree off. Who wins and who loses? What happens when Harry has a secret up his sleeve?

📖 may your every wish come true by @cocoalou (4k)

“Harry, right? Harry Styles?”

Harry’s insides are screaming.

“Uh. Yes. Louis Tomlinson, yeah?” he replies, trying desperately to keep the manic smile off his face that he knows is already making an appearance because Louis remembers him (!!!!!), little ole Harry Styles; two years below, nerdy as all hell, and his friend’s dorky, younger brother.

Harry and Louis reconnect during the Holidays, it's kind of fate.

[gumnut-logic]

For His Brothers (complete)

This one has been bugging me for a while. So I finally went back and completed it.

This was started in December last year, so most of it has been posted here before, but I’ve decided to post it in its entirety since I haven’t written any of it since February.

But now it is finished. Yay!

Thanks as always to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ and @janetm74​ for their amazing support throughout. You guys are just sooo kind to me ::hugs you to bits::

I hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: angst, frustrated Gordon, angry John and a pair of idiot older brothers. 5861 words.

-o-o-o-

He reached over and gently brushed away a stray hair from his brother’s forehead.

The room was quiet. Considering the monetary clout the Tracy family sported, it was to be expected. Hidden away from the bustling hospital, this oasis of a room with its pale furnishings, white privacy curtains, the cushioned chairs in place of the usual plastic was a haven.

These comforts were to be valued and Virgil appreciated them even if his brother would have frowned at the extravagance.

But that was Scott.

Always thinking of everything and everyone but himself.

Virgil let his fingers glide through that soft brown hair, the severity of their situation clear by the lack of gel stiffening the strands.

Scott never left the house without every hair perfectly placed, fingernails manicured, skin clean and refreshed. Looking at him, you wouldn’t think this was a man willing to get his hands dirty. But then Scott was never what he seemed.

The hair gel, the spotless clothing, his deportment, it all spoke of a wealthy man who owned sixty sports cars, three yachts and a private plane.

Scott had the plane, sure, the fastest one on the planet. And hell, yeah, he had a fast car and even a motorcycle. He didn’t sport a boat, but then Gordon was the one to stash those and it wasn’t like he wasn’t willing to share…well, most things.

But Scott never had time to just drive his car. The bike was on the Island gathering dust in a corner of One’s hangar. Virgil was pretty sure Scott hadn’t been on a boat that didn’t involve some kind of life-threatening situation in about ten years.

No, Scott was not your average billionaire.

A sigh and Virgil let himself wilt in the chair beside the bed.

Please, Scott.

His brother was pale, his skin almost bloodless. If it wasn’t for that, he could have been asleep. Scott was neat even in slumber. He wasn’t one to sprawl. There was a certain quiet efficiency to everything he did.

Virgil had brought in his brother’s pyjamas. Even helped the nurse dress him. It wasn’t the first time, after all. If Scott had been awake at the time, the protests would have been epic. The man did not like needing help. Did not like showing vulnerability. Did not want any of it.

Virgil had fought him on this far too many times before using soft words and, if necessary, a pile of hard logic to get him to behave. Because there was one weapon Virgil always had up his sleeve. Catching Scott’s eyes, all Virgil had to say was that he needed to do this. Virgil needed to care for his brother. Look after him and see him well.

It cracked Scott’s obstinance every time, because Scott would do anything for his brothers.

Including sacrificing himself.

Virgil let his head drop to his hand and rubbed his face. There was an edge to his thoughts. A hysteria lurking in the corners, lured out by certain possibilities, accompanied by terror.

He couldn’t.

No.

Another sigh and he looked up again, forcing his eyes to land on his brother. The total inability to do anything grated on Virgil’s senses. His everything was to fix things.

He couldn’t fix this.

He reached down and caught his brother’s hand. It was cool, but not cold. The IV sticking out the back of the vein just beneath his skin shifted as Virgil moved and he clutched the tubing gently to his brother’s wrist to prevent stress on the site.

Scott’s fingers were long.

Longer than Virgil’s. Long enough to play the piano better than Virgil had ever been capable. It was Scott’s thing...to be better. Following him in everything due to age had its challenges. Scott was good at what he wanted to be good at.

The fact he had dropped the piano at an early age was just as frustrating as John not singing with his magical voice. Virgil felt like the last bastion of artistic pursuits in the family.

Virgil ran a finger over his brother’s limp digits. No longer playing the piano beyond what long term memory could provide, these fingers were tasked with so much more. The strength behind them controlled Thunderbird One, their dexterity manipulated equipment, their determination reached out to save so many souls.

His brother’s hand blurred and Virgil had to blink hard.

Virgil would follow his big brother anywhere, and to be honest, he had followed him into hell on many an occasion. He had no regrets. Sometimes he considered that perhaps he had been brought into this world to do exactly that. To follow the born leader his brother was. To enable the strategies he envisioned and, in turn, support him in their mutual endeavours.

And to keep him safe.

Virgil wrapped both his hands around Scott’s fingers and dropped his forehead to their cool touch.

God, please.

“Hey, Virg?” The voice was unmistakably Gordon’s, but it lacked vivacity. “Grandma wants you.” The aquanaut took a step into the room. “I can sit with Scott.”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Virg, please?”

He closed his eyes and held on just a little tighter to his brother’s hand.

The same hand he had failed to catch.

“V-“

“No.” His voice croaked the word, but the emotion came from so deep inside it hurt to cross his lips.

A soft touch to his shoulder and he heard his little brother crouch down beside him.

Virgil expected Gordon to keep trying to persuade him, but instead a soft head of hair leant into his shoulder and an arm reached around his back, pulling him off centre and holding him there.

No words, just Gordon’s soft breathing, slow and strong. Swimmer’s lungs. Olympian. Rescuer.

Thunderbird.

Virgil squeezed his eyes tight and kept his insides in where they belonged.

Gordon began gently stroking Virgil’s arm with the tips of his fingers.

They sat there like that for Virgil didn’t know how long. He kept his eyes closed, his forehead down and his big brother’s hand clutched in his.

“You know he is going to wake up, don’t you?” It was flippant and out of the blue. It shattered Virgil’s carefully tended calm and his head shot up, inadvertently pushing Gordon away.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do.”

Virgil opened his mouth, but his throat closed up. Only one strangled word made it out and it was little more than a plaintive wail. “How?”

“Because he’s Scott.” The surety in Gordon’s voice tore at the remains of Virgil’s heart. “Scott Tracy. Commander of International Rescue.” Gordon’s lips thinned as his eyes reflected the fluorescent lighting. “Thunderbird One.”

Virgil stared at his little brother a moment. The intensity in those brown eyes screamed belief and determination.

Not unlike Scott, really.

It almost broke Virgil in half.

He looked away, back to his big brother laid out on the white bed, almost funereal in appearance. Virgil’s throat clogged up, fear, distress and grief warring for dominance.

His eyes fixated on Scott’s eyelashes once again and mentally begged them to open, pleaded to see that wise and inspirational blue. For his brother to return to him.

Please don’t leave.

God, please, I can’t do this without you.

“He’s going to be fine, Virgil.” Gordon’s voice again intruded on his stability, shaking the fragile framework his composure was sitting on.

“He trusted me.” The words fell from his lips, his voice wet, his eyes still fixated on his silent brother.

“He always trusts you. We all do.” Gordon’s voice was very much his rescue voice. Soft, reassuring and ever so kind.

Virgil didn’t deserve it.

The powerlines had come out of nowhere. He should have predicted that at least, but instead he had John yelling in his ears and Scott swooping in low with his jetpack, grabbing him by his exo-suit and literally shoving him out of the way. Virgil had spun on one tortured ankle, but the electrical wires had missed him.

They hadn’t missed Scott.

They slapped across his jet pack and vivid white and orange sparks blinded Virgil as he tried to reach for his brother. After-images haunted his sight as Scott’s jet pack died. Virgil reached for his brother, claws extended, but he was clumsy, poorly balanced, and he missed.

Scott fell limp into the dark water below.

And Virgil couldn’t follow.

Then it was all a mad dance to get out the reach of the still flailing powerlines, accompanied by the roar of his own ‘bird swooping into a low hover and his aquanaut brother taking a swan dive off her front hatch into that same dark water.

Virgil hurried to get off the bridge, but found he couldn’t.

He had been on the outside of the structure, rappelling down to secure a car that had almost fallen off the bridge due to the 6.5 quake an hour ago. The bridge was almost empty bar the last of the support personnel who had helped International Rescue evacuate the injured. Virgil had clambered out there simply to clip a restraint onto the car’s chassis to prevent it from falling off the bridge and possibly causing more injury. It should have been a simple job, mere seconds before they moved onto the next site.

The pylon had fallen without warning.

And the powerlines, which weren’t supposed to be there, came with it.

Scott had saved Virgil’s life.

At the cost of his own.

And now Virgil couldn’t even get off the damned bridge due to that same pylon, a tangle in his rappel line, and the very strong possibility he had a broken ankle.

He had to stand there and watch Gordon drag their brother onto the shore and start CPR in the mud.

The aquanaut was joined by Alan and a hovering One almost immediately. Scott was scooped off the planet and the rocket plane tore off into the distance.

He was stuck on that bridge for a good twenty minutes. Unable to reach his ‘bird still hovering until John landed her in a street nearby. Unable to climb off the bridge. He was little more than just another rescuee in need of his brothers.

Full of terror.

John reported on Scott’s status as much as he could and fretted in his own calm way over Virgil. His voice was, as ever, a balm, but the lack of a definitive answer on whether his eldest brother was going to survive kept Virgil’s heart rate in the red.

But then there was the familiar roar of that same brother’s ‘bird and One shot into an abrupt hover, Alan rappelling down and finally scooping Virgil off the side of the bridge.

Scott was still unconscious when Virgil finally made it to the hospital, and his brother had stayed that way ever since.

Three days.

Three long pain-filled days.

Virgil’s ankle had been splinted and he was mobile. Turned out the left strut of his exo-suit had actually snapped. How Scott had managed to shove him with that much force, Virgil had no idea. But it had achieved what his brother had wanted to do. He had saved Virgil, even if he hadn’t managed to save himself.

So quiet. So still.

Gordon shifted beside him, a small sigh passing his lips.

“Thank you, Gordon.” Virgil’s throat clogged again. “For saving him.”

“You don’t need to thank me. We’d all do the same for any of us.”

“You shouldn’t have had to. I should have known those wires were there. I should have moved faster.”

“What are you? Prophetic? John had the plans for that bridge, you had the plans for that bridge. There was no mention of hidden cables in that span. You know it, I know it. There wasn’t a damn thing you could have done. Some stupid idiot didn’t file the proper papers with the proper authorities.”

“I should have scanned the structure more thoroughly.”

“Virgil, it was a bridge, not a damned building. You and Scott located all the injured. You did good.” An exasperated sigh. “This was not your fault.” Gordon straightened. “And if you don’t leave this room and eat something, Grandma is going to have both our hides.”

Virgil didn’t even bother to look at him. “No. I’m staying here.” He had to, because Scott had to wake up.

He had to.

“I have to say, bro, I had to talk very fast to keep Grandma away. Forty-eight hours is ridiculous. You need food and rest.”

“I ate.” The discarded remains of breakfast sat on the sideboard. It had been cardboard and chaff in his mouth. The water had been welcome to wash it down.

And he’d kept it down...mostly.

Gordon glared at him. “More than three mouthfuls. Listen, if you don’t move yourself, John and I are going to move you for your own good.”

Virgil looked up at Gordon in shock. “No.” He had to be here.

“You’re forcing our hand, Virg! I will knock you out myself, if I have to, and I know...I know...Scott would agree.”

“Yes, he does.” It was parched and more breath than voice, but it was Scott.

Virgil spun in his chair as the fingers still wrapped in his hands curled around his. Dopey blue eyes pinned him from the bed. “What the h-hell are you doing, Virgil?”

“Scott!” Something inside broke. A dam, a wall of emotion slammed into him at the sight of that crease between Scott’s eyebrows, the twitch of his lips.

It took everything he had to hold it all in.

“Hey, big bro, you’re with us! How are you feeling?” Gordon was on his feet and practically bouncing. A blink and his little brother had thumbed his comms and was letting their family know.

The figure under the bed clothes shifted and groaned. “Stiff and sore. What the hell happened?”

“You got zapped like a bug, went for a swim, and made Alan fly you to these luxurious accommodations.” Gordon’s arm waved around at the white room.

Scott stared at Gordon a moment before blearily turning to Virgil, his expression pleading an explanation.

Virgil pushed it past the lump in his throat, voice parched. “You were hit by live powerlines and knocked from the sky. Fortunately, you were over water and fairly low. Gordon fished you out and saved your life.”

A blink as those blue eyes absorbed that. “What about you?” And there was memory in those eyes, worry for a younger brother, the drive that pushed Scott to give his everything.

For his brothers.

“I’m good.” Now.

“Bullshit, Virg.” Gordon’s expression was beyond exasperated. “You need rest.”

Lips thinned. “I know what I need, Gordon.”

The hand that was still in his tightened and Virgil was forced to look at Scott. Nothing was said, but everything was communicated.

For his brothers.

Scott would not rest if Virgil did not.

He swallowed his beating heart and with a gentle squeeze of his brother’s hand, Virgil stood up and straightened his shoulders. “I sh-should let the others know you’re awake.”

Virgil was vaguely aware of Scott frowning up at him as he reached for his crutches, but a sudden light-headedness distracted him. Perhaps he should eat something.

“Virg?” Scott’s voice was weak.

“What?” Virgil turned and the world turned with him.

A clatter of plastic chair and Gordon was suddenly in his face. “Hey, there, Virg. Take it slow.” His little brother was frowning as much as Scott, his hand gripping Virgil’s biceps holding him steady.

Virgil got his crutches under his arms. “I’m...good.”

Scott was struggling to sit up.

Gordon let go of Virgil with one hand and grabbed his eldest brother by the shoulder. “Hey, you stay put.”

“Virgil-“

“Virgil is fine, Scott. He is going to go to his rooms to eat and sleep for a good twelve hours even if I have to tie him to his bed.” A thumb to his collar. “John, I need you in here.”

Within seconds, the door opened and their red-haired brother strode in. The moment those turquoise eyes landed on Virgil, his brow creased into a frown, but it flickered as he turned to Scott, relief taking over.

Gordon didn’t give him a chance to say anything

“Johnny, a clear case of Operation Big Bro Tango. You want Scott? I’ll dance with Virg.”

A smirk curved John’s lips. “FAB.”

“What the hell?” That came from Scott.

Virgil had closed his eyes at some point. The world was still going around. The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor and an arm wrapped around his waist. “C’mon, Virg, let’s get you something to eat.”

He didn’t want to eat. He was nauseous and his head hurt and his heart was tied up in a mass of emotion that he could barely keep under control.

“Scott-“

“Scott will be fine. John has him, and I have you.”

“I’m...” But he wasn’t fine and he had to get out of this room before Scott realised it. Before... “I’m good.” That last word scraped over his larynx and left a bloody trail. He forced his eyes open to find a worried Scott staring up at him. John’s hand was on his eldest brother’s shoulder and he was speaking quietly to the man, obviously trying his best to keep Scott where he was. Virgil forced some steel into his spine. “I’m good, Scott. I’m going to get something to eat. Gran...Grandma will probably be here in a moment.” His hand tightened on his crutches and he carefully edged around the chair that had been his constant companion for the last few days.

Gordon hovered.

“Look after yourself, Virgil.” Scott’s voice was desperate.

Virgil didn’t look back. “I’m good. You worry about you.” A haggard breath. “Listen to John.”

He got a grunt for that as Gordon held open the door, urging him through.

A last glance at his big brother, now sitting up in bed, John’s hand still on his shoulder. Virgil turned his back to him and crutched his way through the door.

He made it all of five steps down the corridor before Gordon had to catch him as he fell.

-o-o-o-

“You idiot.”

It was breathless and close. It came from beyond the fog and outside the numb space he was inhabiting. It spoke of a place where pain existed.

Because there was pain in that voice.

“Why did you do this? Why?!”

The voice was familiar and it sparked hurt in his heart.

“Do you honestly think I would risk everything for your life just so you can go and flush it all down the toilet in some self-sacrificing vigil? Virg, why?”

Somewhere there was a thump as something fell beside him. It vibrated slowly through his body. He had a body. He had a hand. Because it was grabbed and held tightly, crushed up against soft skin backed by muscle and bone.

Breath tantalised the hairs on his wrist.

Whispered. “Virg, it wasn’t your fault. John hunted down the person responsible.” A soft snort. “You should have seen him. Our brother can be truly terrifying when he wants to be.” Another sigh across his wrist. A brush of fingers. “I can’t…”

Scott swallowed. Because it was Scott and there was something very significant about that.

“You can’t do this. I can’t…” The voice petered off again.

The hand holding his tightened a little more.

“You’re my brother.” The words came laden with so much emotion Virgil’s heart stuttered and he struggled to focus, to reach out.

His fingers wrapped around those holding them.

“Virgil?” There was sudden hope.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”

The new, sharp voice startled Virgil and he flung his eyes open. Blinded by ceiling tiles he groaned and shut them again. Hospital. He was in a damned hospital.

“Virgil?!” A clatter of footsteps hurrying close. Gordon. The new voice was Gordon.

Typical.

“What?” The single word made it past his dry throat.

Another hand landed on his opposite shoulder and he attempted to open his eyes again and found his fish brother smiling down at him. “’Bout time you woke up. Was beginning to wonder if you were trying to compete with electro boy over there.” Gordon waved a hand across the bed to the opposite side.

Virgil turned his head and found a wan Scott Tracy sitting beside his bed, holding his hand. His big brother was a picture of exhaustion.

Several neurons fired in the right sequence and facts aligned themselves into order. “Scott!” Virgil pushed himself up.

“Whoa, Virg! Take it slow.” Strong aquanaut hands caught him as his body protested the sudden change in orientation. “And you, keep your butt plastered to that chair or I’m calling Johnny back in here to kick it. Hell, I might do that anyway. What the hell are you doing out of bed?”

Scott grunted as Gordon shoved pillows behind Virgil’s back and fiddled with the automatic bed controls until Virgil was supported enough to relax.

Scott did not let go of Virgil’s hand.

Virgil didn’t let go of Scott with his eyes. “Are you okay?” His voice was dry and cracked.

“I’m fine, Virgil.” His brother straightened as if to prove the point as Gordon spluttered a scoff. Blue eyes targeted the aquanaut. “I’m fine.” Firm and decisive.

“My god, both of you are idiots.” It was pure frustration this time. “Scott, go back to bed before you collapse just like your idiot brother. If you fold, then he’ll rot beside your bed until he collapses again and the rest of us will be stuck with two sick idiots.” He glared at both of them. “Well, sicker than you already are.” Angry brown eyes flicked to Virgil. “Grandma is going to roast you, Virg. You are so dead. Since when do you not take her medical advice?”

“What?” And now there was a pair of angry blue eyes glaring at him, too. “You ignored Grandma? Are you insane?”

Gordon’s eyebeams zapped his eldest brother where he sat. “You can’t talk, Scott. You’re out of bed. Grandma told you to stay there. One flick to comms and you are toast.”

“Gordon-“

“No. Screw this. You guys might be worried about each other, but we care about you too. I’ve had to pick both of you off the floor just recently and it was not fun! Think about that!” Gordon was yelling. “Do as you are damn well told and get better!”

“Gords?” And Virg was moving, throwing off his covers.

“Didn’t you hear a word I just said?!”

Virgil froze. The anger emanating off his brother was fiery and so out of character, Virgil’s heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon?” And Scott rose unsteadily to his feet.

Those angry eyes whipped around and targeted Scott. “For God’s sake, sit down!”

The door behind Gordon was suddenly shoved open and John barrelled through. Aquamarine eyes caught the scene and Gordon was grabbed from behind before he could launch himself at his brothers.

“Gordon.” John wasn’t stronger than his fish brother, but his presence was enough and Gordon wilted in his arms.

“John, your turn to tango. I’ve had it.” He slipped from his brother’s grip and stormed out.

Virgil remembered to draw a breath, but then his eyes were caught by an aquamarine glare and he knew he was dead.

“Scott, get into bed.” It was said quietly, but with intent. Virgil was not surprised when his eldest brother did exactly as he was told without protest.

He did worry at how pale Scott was and had to fight the urge to climb out of bed and help him, broken ankle or not.

John pinned Virgil with his eyes.

Virgil pulled the covers back over himself and said nothing.

His space brother made sure Scott was comfortable, but didn’t say anything further until the pilot relaxed back onto his pillows. John then moved to the ends of their beds and turned to face both of them.

“I expect better.” He held their eyes a moment longer. “I need to see to Gordon.” Their little brother turned away, his back dismissing them. He flicked an eye to the ceiling. “Eos, monitor please. Alert Grandma as needed.”

“Yes, John.” Virgil startled at the sharp but not unexpected response.

John didn’t spare them anything else before he left.

Virgil’s heart sank through the floor.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was absent for most of the rest of Virgil’s stay in the hospital. Fortunately, that stay wasn’t very long, just one more night and Virgil suspected Grandma had had a word to the doctors to achieve that.

He slept most of it, comforted by the sound of Scott’s breathing. His brother had to stay in a little longer considering his three days of non-responsiveness, but Grandma intervened and sent Virgil home to the Island.

It felt like banishment.

But he also felt like he deserved it for worrying his family so much.

At the time it had seemed the only logical course. He had to stay with Scott.

Just had to.

Stepping out of the situation clarified it for him somewhat and gave him his family’s perspective, ever so clearly.

He vanished into his studio for two days.

Gordon had come home with him, obviously still playing the big brother tango thing that he and John obviously used as some kind of strategy to herd Scott and himself. It was somewhat ridiculous, but he could now see why.

There was more guilt, on top of guilt.

The paint was angry.

On the third day there was a knock on his studio door. “Virgil?”

John.

Virgil closed his eyes and sighed. Scott was returning today and the paint splattered all over the canvas he had been prodding since six in the morning was going nowhere.

There was a lot of blue.

So much blue.

“Virgil?”

He put down his paintbrush and realised there was also a lot of blue on him. He brushed at his shirt, but half of it was dry and the other half just smeared and made it worse.

All blue.

“Virg?”

“Come in.” It was resigned.

The door unlatched and John peered into the room, eyes exploring in that critical way his little brother absorbed everything until they latched onto Virgil. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Virgil grabbed a rag and scrubbed off the wet paint on his hands. His skin crackled where some had dried.

Those eyes fixated on him, drifting down to the ankle and the crutches on the floor.

John sighed. “Virgil...”

The engineer connected the dots and pressed his lips together. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.” To emphasise the point, he dragged over the stool he had been using for most of the morning and planted his butt on it. “See.”

John’s eyes lowered a little, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he shut the door behind him and made his way over to Virgil. Grabbing another stool, he sat down next to him in front of the painting from a blue sculpted hell.

John’s aquamarine eyes both blended and clashed with the colour scheme. “I sense a theme.” It was said lightly, almost an invitation to truce.

“It sucks.” The blue was smeared in streaks over more streaks. It spoke of canted speed and pain. Paint cracked again as Virgil tightened a fist.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Ever so quiet and calm.

And days worth of frustration and guilt surfaced. “I have the equipment, John. I should have scanned. One little scan and so much hurt could have been avoided.”

“Fine. We will add infrastructure scans to our standard procedure. Name the type and we will do it.”

The simple statement brought Virgil up short.

John raised an eyebrow. “You expected something else?” His expression softened. “No one is blaming you, Virgil. No one but yourself.”

“Scott almost died.”

“But he didn’t.”

“John...” He let his head drop. “I can’t...”

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Virgil, you don’t have to. Scott will be fine.”

Virgil swallowed and turned back to his painting. An absent smear of blue with a thumb. He frowned and pushed himself to his feet. A finger here, another smear there. He grabbed his palette and added some red, still finger painting. White and a touch of Payne’s grey, more blue and more white and for a moment he lost himself in the process.

“It’s Thunderbird One.” It was said quietly, but with awe. “How did you do that?”

Virgil didn’t answer, grabbing a brush and, using the point at the end of the handle, scratched in the casual detail of his big brother’s ‘bird.

Lines he knew ever so well.

A fingernail of red and blue and Scott appeared aboard the facsimile of the rocket plane.

Virgil shuffled backwards on one foot. “I can’t fly her.”

He heard the frown rather than saw it. “Yes, you can.”

“No. No, I’m not Scott. Never Scott.” He turned to face his little brother as the emotions poured onto his face, raw and desperate. “I can’t lose him, John. I can’t.”

Aquamarine eyes widened. “Virgil?”

Realising exactly what he was saying, Virgil turned away and put the paintbrush down and swallowed his fear. “You’re right. I’ll write new procedures. It won’t happen again.” He grabbed a rag and concentrated on scrubbing the paint off his fingers.

But John was having none of it, he grabbed Virgil by the shoulders. “Now you listen to me. You have four brothers. Four, Virgil. If the worst happens. We will work it out.” Those hands tightened. “We. Will. Work. It. Out.” John pulled him into his arms and he was being hugged ever so tight.

John’s shirt was smooth against his cheek.

Virgil closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” It made it past his tight throat.

John didn’t respond other than to hold him even tighter.

-o-o-o-

John had him clean up and have a shower. Virgil was tired and arguing required more energy than he had. Thunderbird Five was doing his big bro tango with skill.

Following that, his red-haired brother rounded him up and escorted him, crutches and all, to the kitchen and the sounds of family.

Virgil almost baulked, but a gentle hand in the middle of his back nudged him down the stairs.

“Virgil! Scott’s home!” Alan bounced up to him, nothing but glee-filled relief on his face and the engineer couldn’t help but lift his own mood to match.

The sight of his big brother sitting at the table, pale and wan, managed Virgil a step further in relief, but a step back in worry. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“And good morning to you, too, Virgil.” Scott shoved a forkful of pancake into his mouth, making a point to lick the maple syrup off his lips. “Besides, look in the mirror.”

Virgil was aware of Alan shooting him a concerned look, but he ignored it.

The room was filled with the wonderful smell of fresh cooked pancakes. A glance into the kitchen itself and Virgil found Gordon at the stove, busily producing the pancakes that Scott was so eagerly consuming.

“It’s lunch time.” It was a redundant statement, and said without thought.

He paid for it appropriately.

“Pancakes for lunch is perfect for an invalid fresh home from the hospital.” Gordon’s tone was sharp and Virgil was forced to realise his fish brother hadn’t yet forgiven him.

His heart sank.

“Sit down, Virgil, before you fall down.” Scott was eyeing him as he shoved another forkful in his mouth.

He got cream on his nose.

Alan immediately pointed it out and cracked up laughing as Scott purposefully attempted to lick his own nose and made a complete idiot of himself in the process.

Anything for his brothers.

Virgil sighed as John pointed him to a seat beside their eldest brother. A short stack of pancakes were procured and placed in front of him, as was some orange juice.

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, John shut him down. “No coffee. And don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been sculling the stuff all morning. I’ve seen the free range coffee cup herd in your studio.”

Virgil grunted and glared at the glass.

Condensation reflected his image back at him thousands of times at the microscopic level.

He let the sounds around him merge into the soundscape.

Each brother had his own pitch. His own timbre. Kayo waltzed through at one point, her voice a higher melody amongst the masculine chorus.

Alan’s laughter bounced around the room like someone had dropped a set of cymbals and they were clattering into everything.

Gordon’s tone was unusually sharp and Virgil closed his eyes, knowing it was his fault. His sunshine brother was well into the brass section today.

John was a woodwind. Calm, quiet, melodious. Subtle and sneaking up like a dramatic lead into a surprise.

And Scott…

Virgil’s forehead furrowed.

Scott conducted it all. His warm voice drew it all together and made it work. He was the creator of the symphony that was their family.

Something cold and wet was suddenly smeared on his nose.

What the-?

He opened his eyes to a mixture of white blob and laughing blue.

Somewhere, Alan cracked up again. He must have fallen over, because there was a crash and a squawking Gordon, who in turn began to laugh his ass off.

“That’s a great look, Virg.” Scott was grinning at him.

Beyond Scott, John was smiling ever so fondly.

Virgil turned back to his big brother. “That better be cream.”

His brother’s grin got even wider.

Virgil just stared at him a moment longer before poking out his tongue and casually licking the cream…it was thankfully just vanilla whipped cream…off the end of his nose in one quick swipe.

The room erupted in both awe and horror.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“Ew, gross!”

Even John had a rather weirded out expression on his face.

Only Scott was unfazed, still grinning as if he knew what would happen.

Which he did.

Which was probably why he had done it in the first place.

For his brothers.

Virgil grabbed a napkin and wiped his nose clean properly. He dropped it on the table and then, shifting his chair over a little, let himself slide gently sideways until his head was against Scott’s shoulder. “Glad to have you back.”

Still smiling. “Glad to be here.”

The exclamations of both awe and ew continued until it became a war between the terrible two and who had the longest tongue.

Virgil just let his eyes close and relaxed against his big brother. Eventually an arm crept around him and pulled him a little closer. It felt warm.

It felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whispered exhalation.

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

Virgil grunted, but was too comfortable to disagree.

Scott was home, and the familiar sounds of his family swelled around him, leaching away the worry and the fear.

It felt safe.

Because Virgil was a brother and obviously, Scott would do anything.

For his brothers.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[frienderbender]

hey frienderbender is it ok to ask for some lore/information on your magpickles 🥺 I’m very invested in those goods ( off the topic but can I just say I am in LOVE with the way you draw Skwisgaar my heart is just fluttering to fast when I see him 🥺💞 Anyways muah you’re wonderful artist thank you have a lovely day/evening )

oh sure! first off thank you so much for the sweet message! that made my night :'] i love drawing skwisgaar and im glad you like how he looks in my style haha

anyways im assuming youre talking about my general lore for them in the canon timeline, so ill talk about that under the cut

i think they first met some time in the late 80s while pickles was still with snb. they met after a show specifically. magnus introduced himself as a fan, and that was true! but (quick tangent for some general mag thoughts) it brings up something that ive always thought about when i look at mag. magnus definitely gives off the vibe of being the guy who was always just Around in the music scene, especially in the rock and metal scene of this era. like, hes a mysterious dude but he has connections. he will play with random bands sometimes. he knows so many fucking people in this industry (not saying hes friends with all of them though); what im trying to say is. Everyone Has A Magnus Hammersmith Story. hes the type of guy that gets talked about in podcasts decades down the line. ok all that to say he was able to get backstage because he just Knows People. and he introduces himself as a fan blah blah pickles and magnus drink and do some drugs and honestly i wouldnt be surprised if they at the very least made out with each other the first night they met.

so pickles is like, pretty into him right off the bat. magnus was too, but i think on his end INITIALLY he was more just interested in hooking up but they exchange info and keep in touch and all that. so. this is RIGHT before snb implodes. and theyre still meeting up fairly regularly and becoming closer and doing a lot of drugs and drinking a bunch. typical rockstar stuff.

but pickles had been on a steady downward spiral at this point (he was already like this before he met magnus), and in one night snb is no more. having burned all those bridges in his band (for now), pickles turns to his only friend left: magnus. and i think its at this point, when pickles comes to him, wrecked by the dissolution of his band, that magnus kinda starts to realize he might actually feel something for him too? seeing him like this, seeing pickles from fucking snakes n barrels, so raw and real and not at all like the fiery redhead he met that night after their show...it just feels different somehow. like yeah he was attracted to pickles from snakes n barrels, but he realized he had grown to care about pickles from tomahawk wisconsin. he liked that one better, there was no bullshit. no hiding beneath layers of glam makeup and hairspray.

so its the two of them against the world. its the early 90s at this point. on a whim, pickles decides they should leave LA and just drive. wherever. just away from the city because LA fucking sucks. he takes all his money and he and magnus get in his car and just start driving. they end up in florida eventually, because its the other side of the country. or something. they get an apartment, and for a couple of months they live together and its. kinda nice. its different, for sure. but not bad. magnus and pickles both always kinda skirted around the topic of their relationship. they never called the other their boyfriend. but i feel strongly that they did tell each other that they loved the other, once. and they meant it.

so heres where things get tricky for me. how did dethklok form? what was the order? who met who first? i dont know!! i wish i knew! its something i have a million scenarios for and i wish we got a canon order of the members joining at the very least so i can model my headcanons around it haha

with that in mind though, i do think magnus and pickles were a bit of a package deal. like, whoever joined first was able to get the other in. so. yeah. they joined dethklok some time in the early to mid 90s now.

they have a pretty decent few years. theyre still.......something....even in their new band. like they arent open about it and hook up when the other guys arent around and all that.

its around this time though that i think magnus is really starting to go through it. combination of feeling frustrated because of the bands status at this point, general untreated mental health, etc. anyways i think the stabbing incident occurred some time in the mid 90s, probably like '95 or '96 or something. so.....he gets kicked out. obviously. and those are the terms they end on for awhile.........

but uh. you see. pickles never completely cut ties with the dude because. well. what do you do when this happens to someone you care so deeply about. and i think probably a month or so later, magnus actually contacts him for the first time since the stabbing incident. and maybe i have a comic script and thumbnails about this encounter what about it. magnus tells him he wants to see him, so pickles slips out that night to meet up at an old bar they used to go to a lot. may or may not be the depths of humanity uhhh anyway. theyre talking for awhile but it just kinda devolves into honestly more one-sided arguing on pickles end. hes frustrated and sad and confused because fuck! magnus! why would you do that? why, when the bands just starting to take off? it becomes this whole like. you arent the same guy i knew. and in that moment it quietly hits them both that like. we arent who we were, and we dont know what to do about that. magnus asks if pickles would want to join him and leave the band, and pickles tells him to go fuck himself. and thats the last thing he ever said to him.

and thats where the magpickles lore/relationship timeline ends. i realize it really did kinda turn into a timeline but also i did write a timeline during a slow day at work once like two months ago but. anyways. this is basically that.

but uh. yes. i love them. they make me sad but in a good way yknow. its like. its one of those situations where i feel like under different circumstances, they probably couldve made it work in their own weird way. they have such a specific dynamic, whether in their background together in the canon timeline or just me fucking around with AUs and being like hmm what if i actually gave them a scenario where they could have the time to develop AS an actual couple. im rambling but i just love these two so much. this is so long.

i feel strongly they wouldnt get back together in any sort of canon capacity, but i do think they still have feelings for each other in that way you do when you remember people you loved in the past. old friendships that dissolved with no resolution. the person you still have things you want to tell them, even though you know you will never get the chance.

[dreamljve]

A Family Visit (Neville Longbottom)

A/N: hey yall! ive never wrote fanfic before so please go easy on me. suggestions/criticisms are encouraged as i literally wrote this for a class & want a decent grade. no warnings, just a sad neville but its a nice ending. also, i should note that im reading the series for the first time rn and i just started book 5 and this was inspired by the scene where dumbledore tells harry about neville’s parents in gof. im like 99% sure that you cant get to the hospital via floo powder but it was just easier to write it that way and i was already way over page limit. so... yeah. floo powder. just accept it.

Summary: Neville visits his parents the day of the Yule Ball.

word count: 2745 :)

With the end of the term nearing and the snow covering the ground, Neville once again was met with the bittersweet feeling of Christmas break. In the back of his Potion’s class with Professor Snape, Neville was counting the minutes down. Snape’s lesson was boring as usual, he was saying something about a Pepperup Potion but Neville couldn’t care less. This was his last class of the term. He planned to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break for the Yule Ball, albeit his date was a third year, Ginny Weasley. Almost as if he could read his mind, Snape interrupted his daydreaming.

“Mr. Longbottom, can you repeat what I just told the class?” Snape squinted at him.

“Er-” Neville pursed his lips together and scratched the back of his head.

“I figured,” Snape rolled his eyes and his lips curled into a smirk. “I said that 12 inches of parchment will be due when you return from break. But that’ll be 18 inches for you, Longbottom. And 10 points from Gryffindor.”

The Slytherins in the front of the class snickered. Neville merely nodded. There was no use in arguing Snape, it’ll only end in more homework.

“Don’t worry, you could use the extra practice.” Malfoy spit at him. Snape glanced at the blonde boy with a disapproving look but said nothing.

“Why don’t you bug off, Malfoy?” Harry shot at him, standing up.

“Are you going to stop me, Potter?” Crabbe and Goyle laughed with Draco. Harry felt his face heating up. He was sick of Snape playing favorites. He allows the Slytherins to do whatever they please since he’s head of the Slytherin house.

“Sit down, Mr. Potter. Unless you want extra work.”

As if on cue, the bell rang. Harry grabbed his bag and walked over to Neville.

“Hey, you alright? Don’t mind them. The lousy gits don’t have anything better to do.”

“Hey, yeah, I’m okay. At least we’re free for the next two weeks.” Neville says half-heartedly as he stands up and walks out of the classroom with Harry. The two boys walked through the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room.

“Hey, I’ve got to talk to Dumbledore quickly. I’ll see you later though, yeah?” Harry says with a small smile.

“Right then, see you later.” Neville replies.

Neville watched as Harry jogged away. He wondered what he was going to talk to Dumbledore about. Neville turned and was met with the fat lady painting.

“Password?” She asks with her arms crossed.

“Oh, er-” Neville always struggled with passwords.

“Fortuna Major.” Ron says from behind him.

Neville mutters a small “thanks” and steps in through the portrait. He had planned to hang out in the common room, but soon realizes that his roommates were all in there. Neville hasn’t had a moment to himself since Summer so he decided to go upstairs to his room. He says a quick hello to Seamus and Dean as he walks past them. He went up the stairs and found the door to his dormitory. He enters and shuts it quickly, breathing a sigh of relief. He walks over to his bed and falls backwards, staring up at the ceiling. He started thinking about the holidays and how much he hated Professor Snape and his greasy hair. What kind of teacher just bullies students? Frustrated, Neville turns to lay on his side. He started thinking about how he was meeting his Gran the next day to go visit his parents. Neville doesn’t think about his parents often. How could he? He doesn’t remember them, thinking about them wouldn’t help anything.

But he still allows himself to think about them, from time to time. Neville’s Gran is a stern lady. Growing up, she worried that Neville was a squib, as he didn’t show early signs of magic very often. She often berated him, telling him he didn’t live up to his father’s honor. Neville couldn’t help but believe her.

Neville was proud of his parents, though. They were Aurors, their job was to fight against the Dark Arts He smiled at the thought of them being praised for their noble work. They were well respected amongst their peers, Neville wondered what it felt like. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his wand. It was his father’s. Neville runs his fingers along the wood and the not-so-intricate designs of it. Even though it doesn’t look like much, he knows it's powerful. Neville’s father had fought in the first Wizarding War and was an Auror with that very wand. He holds the wand a little tighter and brings it to his chest. Neville fought back the urge to cry. It was unfair. He never got to know his parents, they were good people who only wanted the best for everyone, wizards and muggles alike. Neville bit his lip to stop it from quivering and he sat up. He set his wand next to him on the quilt his grandmother gave him a few Christmases ago. He smooths the banket and stands up. It was getting late and none of his roommates were showing up, so Neville changed into his pajamas and turned on some music. He wanted to practice his dancing skills for the Yule Ball, so he started to pretend to hold a girl and danced to the music. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to get the footwork correct. After a few minutes, he heard a knock at the door. Startled, he quickly gathers himself and says “come in,” and Harry walks through the door.

Harry was quiet, he merely smiled and nodded at Nevile before grabbing his nightwear. His eyes had an apologetic look, as if he had just found out something sad about Neville. Harry is the only one who gets it, really. Both of their parents were taken down by the same cause, the only difference being that Harry’s are actually dead. Neville felt a shameful relief wash over him with that thought, he bowed his head and scratched his neck. He was getting tired, and decided to lie in bed. He turned off the lamp next to his bed and closed his eyes. He finally started drifting away as he heard Seamus and Dean enter their room.

The next morning, Neville is woken up by the sun and sound of birds outside their dorm. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sat up, and stretched. Seamus, Ron, Dean, and Harry were all sleeping yet. Neville gets dressed and goes to the Great Hall, where he is met with Christmas and winter decorations. There are silver and blue streamers hanging about the Hall, as well as snowflakes covering the walls and hanging from the ceiling. The Christmas tree by the teacher’s table was decorated with white lights, fake snow, and a shiny snowflake on the top. There were presents under the tree wrapped in white and blue wrapping paper. “Bet they’re empty,” Neville thinks to himself, slightly chuckling. He finds his seat at the Gryffindor table and begins to eat his breakfast alone. There was a group of second years at the end of the table, laughing amongst themselves. Neville is already finished with his food when his roommates find their way to the Hall. It was 8:00 and he had to meet his grandmother in an hour. He was meeting his Gran in Hogsmeade to go to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in London. Neville and his grandmother had to have a special meeting with Dumbledore his first year about his parents. Of course, Dumbledore knew his parents and their tragic fate. He made a special exception for him this year, allowing him to leave to visit his parents for the day and come back for the Yule Ball this evening.

Neville ventured back to his dorm, muttering a quick “Fortuna Major” to the portrait of the fat lady guarding the Gryffindor common room. He stepped through and was met with Fred and George Weasley in the common room, sitting by the fireplace talking about something secretly. As soon as he enters his room, he grabs a coat and wand and lays them on his bed. Every time Neville visits his parents, he secretly hopes they’ll remember him, even though it isn’t possible. Neville felt his hand involuntarily tighten into a fist, his nails digging into his palm. He patiently sat for what felt like hours but was realistically 20 minutes or so when he finally decided to head down to meet Dumbledore. He grabs his things and puts his wand in his pocket with his right fist still clenched. He felt his nails break the skin of palm as he got more anxious with every step. When he finally meets Dumbledore at the stairs by the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Neville wondered why he was standing so close to the one-eyed witch statue.

“Good morning, Neville.” Dumbledore greets him with a soft smile.

“Good morning, Professor.” He returns the smile, but quickly lets it fade.

“I hope you keep this between you and me,” Dumbledore says cooly, “Dissendium.” Dumbledore says seemingly at the witch as he taps the hump of the statue with his wand. The hump opens just wide enough for a small person to get through.

“This will take you to the cellar of Honeydukes. Be back by 6:30 so you have enough time to get ready for the Ball. Have a good time, Neville.” Dumbledore smiles at him. Neville thanks him and wonders how many other people knew about this secret. He quickly snaps out of it and enters the passage, giving a final smile and nod towards his headmaster. The passage was cold and rather gross, so he just walked forward until he got to the entrance of the cellar. He opens the latch and enters Honeydukes, trying to be quiet as he enters the door of the store. He quickly exits Honeydukes. He walks to meet his grandmother at The Leaky Cauldron. He gives his father’s mother a faint smile and a quick hello.

“Glad to see you made it here safely, Neville,” she brushes off some dirt on his shoulder, “Are you ready to go?” His grandmother asks him.

Neville merely nods, he was never ready to go. He wonders how she is ready. Neville never knew his parents, so there weren’t many memories to miss, but his grandmother raised his father. Every year she takes Neville to visit but never says anything about how she is feeling about it. Neville furrows his eyebrows and looks at his only parental figure. For a second, he feels remorse for her. Losing your parents is difficult, but losing your child has to be the worst. Neville says a silent prayer to Merlin that he’ll never have to go through that pain himself.

Neville’s grandmother finds a floo system and pulls out floo powder. She hands him a handful of it.

“Do you want to go first?” She asks him.

“No, that’s alright. Have at it.” He just wanted a second without her to compose himself.

She nods and says “St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries”, throwing the powder down at her feet and vanishing.

Neville takes a deep breath and repeats her actions. He feels his stomach twist and turn as he travels. He tries to not focus on it by remembering it’ll end within seconds. And with that, Neville feels his feet fall flat on the floor and he opens his eyes. Letting his eyes adjust to the lighting, Neville subtle forwards a bit.

“Can you manage to stay on your feet, please?” His grandmother remarks.

“Er- yeah. Sorry.” He says lightly.

His grandmother shakes her head as they find the reception desk.

“Who are you here to see?” The receptionist asks. She had long blonde hair and enticing eyes. Neville stares at her for a second and thinks about how she reminds him of Fleur Delacour, the champion from Beauxbatons.

“Frank and Alice Longbottom.” Neville’s grandmother says with a slight smile.

“Right, just down that hall to the left.” His grandmother’s smile is returned as she points to a corridor to the right of the desk.

Neville thanks the woman and thinks about how she probably has her parents. She properly grew up with parents who knew who she was, with a grandmother who doesn't resent her. Brushing that thought aside, Neville and his Gran walk down the hallway that seems to be getting longer with every step. Eventually they find the door labeled “Visitation Room”. Neville exchanges looks with his grandmother as she reluctantly grabs the door knob, turning it. She pushes the door open and gestures for Neville to enter first, closing the door behind them. Neville felt his heart beat faster as his eyes found his parents. They’re sitting at a round table whispering to one another. Neville and his grandmother find their seats, sitting across from them. The boy’s parents stare at them with empty eyes.

“Hi Frank,” His grandmother smiles lightly, “Hi Alice.”

“Hi mom and dad.” Neville looks at them with gentle eyes with a small smile.

“Hello.” Frank replies with wide eyes.

“Hello.” Alice says, turning her attention to Frank.

“How are you guys?” Neville’s grandmother asks.

“We’re good. Although it is cold in here.” Alice says, hugging herself.

Neville’s parents usually complained about the cold when he visited during Christmas. The hospital does get significantly colder as the weather starts to turn. Do they think crazy people don’t need heat?

“Do you want to wear my jacket?” Neville starts to take his arms out of his sleeves, maintaining eyes on his mother.

She nods and smiles at him, and Neville returns the smile. He stands up and walks to his mom, wrapping his jacket around her and kissing the top of her head. She looks up at him and smiles wider, and intertwines her fingers together. Neville’s dad thanks him and places an arm around her. Neville finds his seat again, earning a pat on the back from his Gran. Moments like this are few and far in between, making it all the more special. Neville doesn’t have many happy memories with his family, so making both of his parents and Gran happy was an accomplishment in his eyes.

After almost two hours of mindless small talk, Neville looks at his Gran and realizes it’s time to go. His parents can only handle so much per visit, so when they start getting antsy and irritable they know it’s time to leave them be. Neville stands up and brushes himself off, holding an arm out to help his Gran stand up. Frank and Alice stand up as well, mirroring his moves. Neville smiles as he makes his way over to his mother, removing the coat from her back and embracing her. She reluctantly hugged him back. He didn’t blame her, he was a stranger hugging her. Neville squeezed her a little tighter, resting his head on top of hers. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were full of tears. He looks over at his dad releasing his hug from his own mother, who is also teary-eyed. Neville switches places with his Gran, looking at his dad for a second before he hugs him. Frank lightly wraps his arms around his son giving him a friendly pat on the back. Neville holds onto him until his Gran interrupts,

“It’s time to leave, Nev.” He is taken aback for a moment at the nickname, but then smiles. He releases his father and looks up at him again.

“I love you, dad,” Neville turns to his mother, “and I love you, mom.” He gently grabs their hands for a second before letting go. His Gran puts a hand on his back, rubbing it slightly. Neville feels his lower lip quiver as they walk to exit the door. His Gran opens it and gestures for him to leave first. He turns around to look at his parents, they look at each other and then at Neville, smiling and waving at him. Neville leaves the room and is greeted with the hallway of the hospital. He looks at his Gran as she closes the door with a final click. Her hand lingers on the doorknob for a second before turning to Neville with a tear spilling on her cheek and the slightest smile,

“How about we stop at Honeydukes for some candy?”

[sleevesareforlosers]

also! i know you’ve mentioned quite a few times before in posts/fics about how party and kobra really only met right before they left the city? and i’m not entirely sure if i’ve just missed it but i would LOVE for elaboration specifically on that. i just!! am super interested to know about them and their lives in the city...and how everything shakes out regarding that 👀

!!!! okay thats def one of the more obscure bits of my canon? bc in universe party and kobra dont rlly like talking about it and on a meta level city life isnt rlly something i wanna devote too much energy to writing but i HAVE thought abt it!

i covered it a little bit in this fic but some details have shifted a bit just irt kobras job/timeline bc its over (i think?) a year old and its short so. not super elaborate

so when i say that they hadnt really met before leaving the city its like. they knew each other and lived with each other but they weren't really themselves. party bc of like. reeducation and kobra bc he was really fucked up with a combination of dysphoria and city drugs both prescribed and not (which i *think* ive mentioned arent a given in the city? most people dont get medicated the same way kobra did and not all the city meds are bad)

i will say that they were pretty close before party got reeducated. as close as u can be when ur thirteen and eight at least. but ofc he got taken and came back Completely different and kobra was a smart kid and kinda realized that directly confronting him abt the change would end really badly for both of them. party was rlly susceptible to the reeducation and its not their fault in any way but they definitely would have reported kobra if he'd tried to make a move.

so then once kobra snapped and cut his hair and party snapped out of the reeducation (combination of time since getting bleached and like. still being a caring and loving person under it all and knowing that he should care abt kobra) they escaped obviously and had to do a little crash course in 'how to be siblings' bc until then they were more just. people that lived in the same house and had nothing in common to talk about so they jsut didnt. i hope that makes sense? they knew each other but they didnt Really Know each other

as for what life in the city looked like for them!

i feel like its kinda important to know that their parents were low-level workers so they grew up in the slums on the edge of the city. not the worst part of the city (the lobby) but not downtown or even a suburban area.

party (post reeducation) became a total model student and ended up in a mid/high-level admin position in hq as soon as he graduated, set to get a promotion when he turned 20 and was in the process of trying to move out to a place of his own actually. kept getting their applications rejected bc they didnt have an "approved reason" to not live w their parents (no long-term partner and not a high enough level to qualify for one of the downtown studios). wasn't necessarily getting frustrated with the company but was getting frustrated with not being able to "start his own life" in his own apartment yknow? also a bit of a superiority complex/classism thing bc of having a higher-level job than their parents, wanting to live in a nicer part of the city like the rest of their colleagues. he had a Few friends, mostly from work, but it was nothing like the crew and friends hed had pre-reeducation bc. you know. obviously. it was just a little group of polite, well trained late-teens bli drones who got up to just the right amounts of bli-approved trouble (android girls and mood synthesizers but only on saturdays type deal). um. probably the least bli-approved thing they did was give spare carbons to broken-down droids in street corners and pretend to listen to the ones preaching the graffiti bible. This is all actually a huge reason Why party is so wanted by bli, like apart from the obvious of being a killjoy and fucking up a lot of shit for the company, he was also So close to being a perfect citizen that rebelling and escaping is a real lemon-juice-in-the-papercut for bli

kobra, on the other hand, was about one and a half Minor infractions away from getting reeducated himself. bli mostly saves reeducation and bleaching for people with confirmed rebellious biases or actions, people they dont think would be trusted enough to take their pills basically. theyd get fed up after enough violations though. kobra was on watch as a nuisance, but not a rebel, so he got away with attempts at medication and therapy that were... kinda effective? but he was Really pushing it especially once he got his job in the lobby and started running with lobby kids. really just imagine an absolute menace shithead of a fourteen year old breaking every law he could get his well-manicured but grubby little hands on. i think at some point ive mentioned that half the reason kobra was so good with tech and wiring was bc he picked it up from fucking with scarecrow cars and reprogramming shit about them? yeah. im not gonna say kobra's friends were like. a bad crowd. they were just chafing against city culture in a very specific way. lots of sex, violence, vandalism, underage mood synthesizer use (and by underage i mean even below the technically-underage-but-bli-looks-the-other-way-bc-they-know-people-need-to-feel-rebellious-sometimes age that like. party and his friends started trying them at). this is when he learned how to knife fight too which definitely saved both his and party's life the first night in the zones. on top of this all is the whole trans thing which isnt something thats necessarily frowned upon in the city, but when kobra finally realized what was up he went about it in a non-city-approved way (hacking his hair off with a set of nail clippers rather than like. submitting a transition application) and that absolutely would have been the last straw for him for the city if party had reported him rather than stuffed him in their car and left.

i dont know how to tldr this one but like. they both led really different lives in the city, kobra being rebellious and breaking laws but not in a killjoy way and party being So close to being a perfect citizen as a result of getting reeducated when he was thirteen, so they weren't honest with each other until party's bleaching broke and they left the city and THATS why i say they hadnt really met until they escaped.

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2020

You know, when I finished my latest list and realised every decade had the same pattern and that we were slowly going towards a series of great years for pop, I didn’t realise how good that year would be.

What’s at the top? Am I boringly predictable because I already said I loved that song all the way back in January 2020? Let’s find out.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will probably be stuff in French somewhere on this post. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

So. Uh. How was your 2020?

Mine was actually surprisingly good, considering. I’m lucky enough to have a job that I can partially do from home, and I was extremely paranoid from the get-go and nobody got sick under this roof so far. Turns out I’m even better at my job from home and I got permission to work from home one day per week even after the health crisis is over! My first name was also finally officially approved and I can’t tell you how happy I feel about that. I almost feel bad to have had such a good year considering the circumstances. I feel like an asshole just because I’m happy, haha.

The only frustrating part was that I was supposed to see Hatari in concert in Paris in early April which, as you can guess, was cancelled. I’m not too mad about it though, since their tour was called “Europe will crumble” and the message saying the tour was cancelled started with “since Europe is actually crumbling due to Covid-19″ and that’s hysterical.

Good or interesting albums that came out in 2020 now, let’s see.

Nightwish released Human/Nature, which was a huge letdown compared to their previous album, but I will relisten to it at some point to make sure I wasn’t just in a bad mood that day.

The Birthday Massacre released Diamonds, which might be their weakest album since their debut, but contained some real gems (I listened to The Last Goodbye on a loop, it floored me. Flashback and Enter are also very good).

The 1975 released Notes On A Conditional Form, and let’s be real, it’s a f█cking mess. You could cut half the tracks and end up with an excellent album, but as it is it’s like, yes, a collection of notes ; however there’s some truely excellent shit on it (see unelligible songs).

Thanks to a friend on a discord server I was exposed to Dorian Electra’s music and I haven’t been quite the same ever since. I’m so happy to be alive to see other enbies making such great music with an insanely good aesthetic surrounding it and asking so many interesting questions about gender. Also the arc the ‘gentleman’ character goes through over the course of the entire tracklist of the 2020 My Agenda album is absolutely hilarious, don’t @ me.

I also discovered 100 Gecs this year. Why are most of you guys saying it’s unlistenable garbage. It’s just as abrasive and over the top as industrial music is, but with none of the edginess or drama. I love it. What the hell. But yeah Tree of Clues was released this year. Good.

Speaking of industrial, in March 2020 Nine Inch Nails were like “hey remember when we released Ghosts I-IV a decade ago entirely for free and how amazing that was? Well we’re all in lockdown and bored as hell so here’s Ghosts V-VI and it’s also free. Enjoy” and I f█cking died instantly. And it’s even better than I-IV. What the hell was that year

Jonsi released Shiver. It’s strange and highly experimental. I’m pretty sure it’s a good thing I was into hyperpop this year, otherwise going from his previous material straight to this album would have been brutal.

Yadda yadda yadda After Hours by the Weeknd good yadda yadda.

I’ve joked about that already but if you had told me in 2019 that 2020 would have fires, a pandemic, riots, monoliths appearing and disappearing, and also a super good Machine Gun Kelly album, guess which part I would have found the most ridiculous. But yeah uh. Tickets to my Downfall good

So uh this year I tried to listen to some hyperpop and liked it a lot, and I also dipped my toes timidly into screamo and listened to Svalbard, who released When I Die this year, and the entire album was a very beautiful, very intricately decorated punch to the face. It sounds like God Is An Astronaut except with a shit ton of yelling. I love it. Open Wound is my favorite track on it.

But no, despite all of this, my album of the year was from a band I had never even heard about before that year, called Spanish Love Songs. The album is titled Brave Faces Everyone and it’s line after line after line of extremely relatable generational angst but yelled with complete sincerity and it’s so propulsive and energetic you can’t help but feel both exhausted and ready to fight the entire universe. I don’t know how it works, but it’s incredible. The entire album is wonderfully brutal, so it’s kind of difficult to pick my favorite songs on it, but Beachfront Property and the title track stand out.

Unelligible songs, now, and there’s, uh, quite a few of them too so I’m also gonna use bullet points. Good lord this post is gonna be long.

First, let me say I have literally no idea why Midnight Sky by Miley Cyrus wasn’t a bigger hit. It’s not on the year-end US top 100 and it feels extremely wrong. Would have made it to #4 on this list otherwise.

I still entertain the vague hope that stuff from Machine Gun Kelly will chart higher in 2021 but I doubt it will happen so I might as well tackle it now and say that Bloody Valentine and especially Forget Me Too are both excellent and that it’s a shame radios aren’t playing them more often.

Heaven by the late Avicii featuring Coldplay should have charted in 2019 and still didn’t chart in 2020 and that’s a real shame.

If the world was a bit less unfair, Lovesick Girls by Blackpink would have been a hit rather than the awful Ice Cream.

One day I will stop complaining about my bafflement concerning the lack of mainstream pop charts success of The 1975. Today is not that day. I just love how they keep making songs about extremely awkward relationships full of weird details, and I haven’t grown tired of that yet. So yeah If You’re Too Shy is about a guy who’s crush is asking him to get naked on Skype in his hotel room and he’s, uh, not too sure about that idea.

And Me & You Together is about a guy who never finds the right moment to tell his best friend he’s in love with her, and he manages to do so at the end and it’s cute as hell. My fave part is “I'm sorry that I'm kinda queer / It's not as weird as it appears / It's 'cause my body doesn't stop me (Stop me) / Oh, it's okay, lots of people think I'm gay / But we're friends, so it's cool, why would it not be?”. Relatable as f█ck.

And now for an international hit that should have been bigger in the US and/or in my country but wasn’t: Head & Heart by Joel Corry and MNEK.

I’ve heard Nos Célébrations by Indochine extremely often on French radio for months now so I was very surprised to see that it didn’t crack the local year-end list. What happened.

I can finally hear the appeal of Bring Me The Horizon. It took me ages. And also Death Stranding. The song Ludens isn’t in the game per say, but it’s among the ones you can pick to broadcast briefly when people drive by your constructions, and long story short it's been living rent-free in my head for months now.

Phew.

It’s time for a round of Honorable Mentions for elligible songs, containing a couple of guilty pleasures, which is saying something considering the kind of shit I put on some of my previous lists.

Ne Reviens Pas (Gradur et Heuss l’Enfoiré) - Heuss is a French artist that kept baffling me while making my lists for the previous years, and I was like “??? ok, that’s it then, I guess I’m getting too old to get what teenagers find funny”. This one worked for me, though. And the music video doesn’t hurt. Really dumb and really fun.

Adore You (Harry Styles) - Perfectly good little pop song, very pleasant to listen to, never outstayed its welcome for me.

Mood (24kGoldn) - This doesn’t sound like a very good relationship, my dude, but that’s still a super pleasant song.

WAP (Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion) - This song is absolutely hilarious and I will hear no argument from any of you.

Control (Zoe Wees) - Was clearly a hit here. Should have been even bigger though. What a powerful but comfy voice. If I had better taste it would be on the list.

Hot Girl Bummer (Blackbear) - I. Uh. Listen. I keep saying I have bad taste and nobody believes me. Do you believe me now. But yeah. “F█ck you, and you, and you~, I hate your friends and they hate me too” is gonna pop in my head every single time someone is being a jerk anywhere near me now. It’s been happening all year already. Someone trashed my documents at work? Someone isn’t wearing a mask in public? That guy has filled his car with rolls of toilet paper? Brain goes “F█ck you, and you, and you~”. Every. Single. Time.

Come & Go (Juice WRLD & Marshmello ) - Damn, that’s a pretty good little song. I’ve seen plenty of people saying it’s ruined by the drop, but may I remind you I’m the person who loves Blue by Eiffel 65 with all my heart. If the song was ramping up consistently until the end instead of ending like that, it would have made the list, definitely.

And now, the actual list. This one actually feels pretty solid, I genuinely like everything on it, there’s no filler here for once.

10 - The Box (Roddy Rich)

US: #3 / FR: #23

Now this is a weird case, because for the longest time I couldn’t figure out why this song was so popular and I was completely neutral about it. Then, one morning in September, my mental jukebox (which always, always puts a song on a loop in my head when I wake up) decided to play it. And I was like oh wow?? I never noticed the atmosphere in that song before? It’s so great. And that hook too. Let’s listen to it.

So yeah, I don’t know what happened. It just clicked one day and everything fell into place, I guess.

9 - Alane (Wes & Robin Shulz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #93

Come on. You can’t do a remake of one of my previous #1 songs and let it chart in 2020. That’s cheating. Even with this subpar drop, I have to put it on the list, now.

I’ve already said my piece about the original, so I’m just going to send you back to my 1997 list.

8 - Kings and Queens (Ava Max)

US: Not on the list / FR: #76

[BBC documentary voice] After Lady Gaga decided to make piano balads and left her musical niche vacant, Ava Max quickly took her place as the top predator pop diva. Even after Lady Gaga was re-introduced to her natural habitat in 2020, she still hasn’t fully recovered in Europe, where Ava Max still reigns supreme on the charts -

(tldr I think it’s hilarious that this isn’t on the US Billboard while Lady Gaga isn’t on the French year-end top 100)

7 - Roses (Saint Jhn & Imanbek)

US: #19 / FR: #3

What an earworm. It doesn’t even bother trying to have an intro or an outro, so it loops almost perfectly. It’s like entering a party that started long before you arrived, and it will go on long after you leave it to go back home. Kind of hypnotic in a way.

And yes, my mental jukebox was very fond of using it to wake me up this year, so this is another song that’s here almost solely because of that.

6 - Physical (Dua Lipa)

US: Not on the list / FR: #69 (hehehe)

“Hey I’m not that old” says the guy who’s definitely a sucker for this kind of retro throwback that was so popular this year. Oh well.

I don’t have anything interesting to say about this one, though. Apart from the fact that everyone seems to have a different fave song on that album. Guess that’s quality for you.

5 - Rain on Me (Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande)

US: #48 / FR: Not on the list

That is far from being Lady Gaga’s best song, but it was a joy to listen to everytime it was on the radio anyway. Also Ariana Grande has surprisingly good chemistry with Gaga! This year was full of strange duets mostly made for commercial reasons, and this one isn’t an exception, but unlike a lot of them, it really, really works.

4 - Dynamite (BTS)

US: #38 / FR: Not on the list

I’m still not 100% sold on k-pop even if a ton of it sounds super good, but come on. Even if some bits of this song (especially the beginning of the second chorus) sound a bit like they were made on autopilot, it still sounds just as happy and fun several months after I first heard it and I never got tired of it. That’s quality. You hear it and you can’t help but tap your feet and smile.

Actually, I’m sure there’s people somewhere that don’t smile when they hear this song. And they must be avoided at all costs.

3 - Godzilla (Eminem ft Juice WRLD)

US: #62 / FR: Not on the list

What are you doing so high on this list, old man. Why are you still here in the year 2020. I thought we left you in the previous decade. Who gave you the right.

I’m gonna tell you who did, and it’s actually Juice WRLD. Because that chorus is incredible, and like a lot of people I’m pissed off because the guy died super young and this shit shouldn’t happen to anybody. No, his early material wasn’t great, but I’m sorry I’m gonna say it again: have you heard this damn chorus? It’s suspenseful and dark, it’s got this lowkey menacing quality, it’s an earworm and a half, and it’s more convincing in like six lines than Eminem’s own flexing is in the entire song.

The beat is extremely good as well, and the flow, obviously, impressive. The weakest link is Eminem’s writing, which is as usual full of puns and weird wordplay, except here a lot of it isn’t great, and that last ultra fast part at the end is technically impressive but it also drives the song up a cliff and stops it dead in its tracks once it’s over. But frankly the lines fly by so fast it’s difficult to be too annoyed by them.

Can I sincerely put this extremely flawed song so high on my list? A better question would be “did I spend hours trying to learn how to sing this shit without choking on my own spit?”. The answer is yes. To both.

2 - Heartless (The Weeknd)

US: #28 / FR: Not on the list

I’ve said it on my 2015 and 2016 lists already, but just for the record I’ll say it again: it took me ages to like The Weeknd, mostly because I found most of his songs fairly boring, or disliked the lyrics, or both. Also I never really liked the general vibe of his “sexy” songs like The Hills, they felt dark but in an unpleasant creepy way. Felt like miserable hedonism, if that makes sense.

So, because I’m a person with extremely consistent and logical tastes, here’s the exact same shit he was making before, except that this time I absolutely adore it.

What is he doing differently that makes the whole After Hours album click for me whereas almost all of his previous material failed to do so? Is it the energy? Is it the reverb? Is it the fact that the narrator sounds properly unhinged and, frankly, scared to be spiralling out of control? Why are the colors so beautiful yet full of anxiety? Why is that bridge so fantastic? How can you make your voice look like a glowstick in the dark?

I give up. I have no clue. At least I’m done talking about-

Oh.

1 - Blinding Lights (The Weeknd)

US: #1 / FR: #1 (listen sometimes something’s just that good, ok)

Surprise. Or not.

Wow, look at that, Johannes has put this year’s number one pop song at number one on their personal playlist. The audacity. The edge. What a hot take.

I discovered that song when it first came out at the end of 2019 and I adored it instantly. And I was so scared it wouldn’t be a hit. Which means I’m a f█cking dumbass considering it ended up breaking all sorts of records in 2020. But what can I say, overplay can be a blessing when you love a song that much.

Like every single song I put at number one on one of my lists, I will draw this one at some point and you will understand how incredibly satisfying it is to listen to a song called Blinding Lights, talking about city lights looking blurry when you’re driving at night, while looking itself like a bunch of blurry city lights passing by super fast. Perfect in every way.

Also it sounds exactly like A-ha, and that never hurts.

See you next year! Pretty sure it will be even better music-wise.

[raetos]

Are We Dead Yet? - Part IV: Rescuers Down Under

(( Co-written with @darkestfable . @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant / @thefugitivemango , @codegemini​ , @sylaess​ for chatacter mention))

~*~*~

Landing in The Maw was more of a bang than a whimper. Fable’s soul had been torn apart between worlds, searing pain and deafening screams pulling him apart until he hit soil with an unceremonious thud. The blood hunter’s body should have been broken from the impact, but as the dust settled around him Fable realized that he was...alive? No, not alive, but not resting.

His ears rang, his head was foggy. As if every system was restarting from the ground up. The high pitched ring was subsiding, being replaced with the growls of distant thunder. The sound rumbled deep in his body before it faded away. Ash blew around his body from the constant wind, a dull roar that he could now make out between the bellows of unseen storms. A louder noise reached Fable’s senses now, and at first he thought that it must be higher winds. They wailed and moaned, echoing with metallic screams before fading. It wasn’t until the hunter opened his eyes and sat up that he realized what the sound actually was.

Souls were crying out, their wordless pleas echoing across a landscape that was far from barren. The sound was horrendous, heart wrenching. In the distance, Fable could make out what he assumed was a river with at least one bridge that crossed over. It would be a rough trek, but the jagged stone that shot up from the ground all over the landscape would make for ample cover.

Dirt crunched and plumed out from each step, a dim sound in comparison to the constant suffering all around him. The closer Fable got to the bridge, the more clearly he could see that it wasn’t a river of water at all. The mist did little to hide the floating shapes that flowed downstream, and now their screams were even louder.

They were anguished souls, cursed to the river by whatever had upset the balance.

“Fuck…” Fable muttered, pressing his back against a large, sharp stone. He couldn’t do this alone.

~*~*~

Raetos wasn’t certain how long it had been since he’d separated from Avehi and the rest of the group. He felt guilty for sneaking off after she’d helped smuggle him into the Maw, but in his growing frustration, he’d been worried any words shared would have left them parting on angry terms. Avehi was determined to help Argonas and Sylaess find Sinafay, pushing Fable’s rescue as a secondary goal. Raetos couldn’t have that. He knew Sinafay and Fable wouldn’t be in the same place, and waiting around to rescue his lover was absolutely unacceptable. Especially now that he witnessed the Maw and it’s horrors for himself. 

Finding Fable had initially seemed like an impossible trek, given the Draenei had no idea where to start looking. The moment he’d spotted the shade hounds, however, he knew what to do. He watched them with their rider, hunting down wayward spirits. He wasn’t certain if they could track specific spirits, but it was his best shot. With all the commotion caused by the Ebon Blade, Raetos found himself able to move about easily enough.

That is, until the distance between them became too great. Sneaking around was nearly impossible now. Despite his best efforts to remain unseen, the denizens seemed to detect him the moment he’d step into their vicinity. He already held a number of bruises and minor cuts from a few encounters. As it was, he couldn’t go much further alone.

He perched on top of a stone cliff, preparing to jump down onto the hound’s back. A leap of faith… that is, until a dark, winged form swooped in and grabbed him by the throat. It flew upwards, lifting him up into the air with a surprising amount of strength. The Lightforged reacted quickly. He didn’t have time to get carried off to who knows where. One hand gripped the dark angel’s wrist while the other came up to shoot a beam of Light energy into its eyes. The figure screeched as it was blinded, giving Raetos the opportunity to grab his sword and stab it into the creature’s wing. He gasped as he was released and plummeted down. Light! He hadn’t thought that part through! 

Again, he lost his breath, this time, from the impact of hitting the ground, feeling ribs, and even his crest, crack on impact. Blue blood oozed out from the wound, and also on various scrapes across his face and body from the landing. 

He hissed, gritting his teeth as he forced himself up. To say he was in a lot of pain was an understatement, but adrenaline still courses through him, giving him the push he needed. A good thing, too! His hand had barely taken hold of the hilt of his sword before he heard a howl and looked up ahead of where he lay. The shade hound and rider he’d been stalking were now charging straight at him.

~*~*~

In his slow advancement around the inhospitable land, Fable had heard hounds howling in the distance. It hadn’t been until he looked down on them from a cliff that he’d seen one of the shade hounds chasing what looked like a member of the Ebon Blade, but...glowing? There wasn’t enough time to process whatever it was, but Fable decided to act anyway. He still remembered how to fist fight.

With the rider hanging back a bit to let the hound bite their quarry, Fable made his way around behind them as silent as he could. He’d be dead(again) if a weapon was swung his way, but it could be worse, right? The blood hunter waited quietly until the rider raised his weapon to take aim, and waited until his attention was occupied.

Fable lept on the hunter’s back and wrapped one arm around the man’s neck, the other at the top of his head. A quick twist should do it, and it would show him just how human or undead these soldiers of the Jailer were. The creature clad in armor simply crumpled from the surprise attack, and the elf went down with him, landing on top of the heap. The metal bit into his skin, but his attention snapped to the Ebon Blade soldier and the hound.

It wasn’t long before some of the Ebon soldier’s more particular traits gave off his identity. Raetos had shed the heavier plate armor, but still wore the dark colors and tabard of the Ebon Blade. Even so, with the gold plated tail and hooves, long blonde hair and signature sword, marked him otherwise. 

Unfortunately for the Lightforged, he’d barely had time to get up and run before the hound was on him, pinning him down and snapping its jaws down around his forearm. 

“Hey hey! Don’t be rude!” He growled.

But as suddenly as the hound was on him, it froze. Thankfully for Raetos, killing the hunter, severed the connection to the hound. Raetos blinked, confused as he was released and the creature backed off and just… stood there. 

“Uuuh, good boy?”

He winced as he got up, hand clutching his side as he looked over towards the hunter’s body. He gasped, eyes wide as he just stared at Fable for a moment.

“Hey… no fair,” he grinned wide, though his eyes watered as a flood of emotions overtook him, “-I’m- supposed to be the heroic figure here.”

Realization flooded Fable at once, and he felt his own eyes well up with relief. The hunter was sure he was imagining the gold, and he’d seen Ebon Blade members with blonde hair. But not that shade of blue. Not accented by gold and glowing with the Light. His breath hitched when he saw that grin. It was like falling for the man all over again.

“You are, love. You are,” his voice shook as he stepped over the crumpled hunter, closing the distance between him and Raetos with a swift stride.

He could tell that his lover was bleeding, hurt. For the moment, it didn’t matter. Fable reached his arms up around Raetos’ neck and pulled him down for a desperate kiss. Guilt chewed at the back of his mind, and just the memory of where he was stabbed was enough to make the mark feel like it was on fire. But none of that mattered right now, he had his lover back!

“Sorry I died, love. It uh...wasn’t supposed t’ happen that way. I jus’... You kept your promise, ‘n I fucked up.”

Raetos choked out a sob as he wrapped his arms around Fable. Physically, it hurt like hell due to his injuries, but the relief of having his mate back in his arms pushed it all into the back of his mind. 

“Shhh,” he managed, burying his face into his lover’s hair, “It’s okay… it’s okay. I’m here… and I’m not leaving without you.”

For a moment he just lingered in the embrace; in that sweet moment of reunion, before he released his grip slightly, happy tears rolled down his cheeks as he cupped Fable’s face in his hands to just stare at it. He’d missed those blue eyes, that nose, his lips. Lips he couldn’t help but claim again with his own.

His words were swallowed up in the kiss, and for a moment their reunion was the only real thing in the world. Fable carefully pressed against Raetos as he kissed him, hands gripping at the poorly fitted armor. The blue blood from his lover's wounds wet his hands, and that was what brought him back to reality.

"I wanna keep kissin' you, but we gotta get outta here. I uh...ain't got a clue what's what. Please say you got a plan," Fable looked around, expecting another hunter.

Raetos couldn’t help but give a bit of a pout as the kiss was broken. It seemed he had completely forgotten where they were for a moment. Fable’s words were enough to snap him out of his trance. 

“—Oh! Uh… yeah! Totally,” he nodded, “I mean… sort of?”

He hadn’t exactly planned further than getting into the Maw and finding his mate. Now that he’d achieved that, he had to play it by ear. He sheepishly brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

“We weren’t too sure what to expect. Came down here with Avehi, Argonas and another one of those deader knights. Syl… something… Anyway, they were— Ow…”

He winced as he leaned over to take his sword. With the moment of euphoria passed, the pain from his wounds became more and more evident. They had to get back to the others soon, so that he could treat them.

With Fable’s hand in his, and his sword in the other at the ready, he led them up a steep slope, towards higher ground.

“Anyway… they were going to find Argo’s wife, Sinafay. She’s been here a long time, I guess, so they needed to get to her fast. I split off to come find you,” he glanced over his shoulder, offering Fable a smile, before moving on to a more dreaded yet important subject, “Hey so… what happened? Any idea who did this to you? Gotta hunt them down and destroy that dagger they used on you. Some cult ritual artifact bullshit, I guess. Only way to get you back to your body on Azeroth is to destroy the weapon that killed you.”

Adrenaline was fading, and Fable could feel his own body aching in kind. So much travelling and skulking about had left his thighs exhausted. He paused at the top of the slope when Raetos started talking, and the hunter’s ears pinned back at the question. It wasn’t a look his lover had ever seen on his face, because it wasn’t one he wore often.

Shame.

The elf cleared his throat, trying to choose his words. Were it anyone else, Fable would simply try to deflect and turn the conversation on whoever these Argo and Sinafay people were. And Syl. All names he wasn’t familiar with, not really. No faces to put to them. His cheeks burned under the dark skin. Raetos could feel the tension in Fable’s hand as it rested in the larger man’s grip.

“I was doin’ a dig t’ kill time ‘n this lady showed up. She uh… I dunno what happened but she jus’ got into my head ‘n I couldn’t stop. Raetos I… I was gonna do it. Her. If she didn’t stab me…” his gaze was on the ground. Fable wouldn’t meet his lover’s gaze.

Raetos’ brow knit into a frown, at first, in confusion. His head tilted slightly to the side, as it often did whenever he was trying to figure something out. It felt like his head was in a fog. He had to replay those words in his head a few times. Then he thought maybe they didn’t mean what he thought it did. Or maybe the wailing wind distorted the words? No. Fable’s expression confirmed it well enough. 

“...Oh…”

It was all he could think of as a reply. For once, he wasn’t quite certain what to say. He wasn’t angry… that much he knew. He and Fable hadn’t exactly determined boundaries, even after Raetos himself had almost done the same thing with Avehi. He felt hurt, to be certain, like a sharp pain in his chest, but his lover looked guilty enough, he didn’t want to express it and make him feel worse. 

“Hey,” his hand squeezed the Blood Hunter’s, “We’ll get through it, okay? Together.”

He offered a smile, showing he meant the words he’d spoken. Fable obviously regretted what he’d done, and not only because it ended up getting him killed. Raetos wasn’t the particularly jealous type, but he couldn’t pretend the thought of his mate lying with another person on his own didn’t bother him.

“If you think this makes me love you any less, you can kick that thought from your head. I’m not going anywhere… Afraid you’re stuck with me, Love. You know… as long as you’ll have me.”

Fable felt tears well up again, his voice catching in his throat as he reached up to wipe at his eyes. It left streaks of dirt on his face, and didn’t hide the emotions that had bubbled over. All the hunter could do was sniffle and squeeze Raetos’ hand. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he managed to say, wiping at the tears.

“Don’t say that,” The Draenei’s voice shook as he pulled his mate in for another tight hug. He was feeling rather light headed, and his legs felt weak, so he kneeled down, making it easier to hold the elf close. A hand came up to brush through Fable’s hair as he buried his face in his lover’s neck. 

He was well aware that they had to keep moving. The trail of blue blood would be picked up sooner rather than later. But he was so tired…

~*~*~

[fairycosmos]

Thank U! So me& my ex broke up 2 years ago. They broke up w/me but once I got Over the initial upset it was more mutual cuz I knew it was 4the best. We didnt talk for ages but got back in contact& have been gr8 friends since. We dont talk all the time but we are very open bout how important the other is 2us, we support each other thru life&just really get& see each other. We broke up cuz we were both in a bad way after the abuse we faced due to their ex. We kept on having misunderstandings& arguments but it was more to do with the proximity to the trauma cuz on reflection our fights werent bad we were just in a bad place&in a LDR so we relied on text/calls&facetime which made everything harder. Ive never gotten over them& its not from lack of trying but everything about them makes my heart sing. I love them in a way I cant fully explain. It feels like no other love Ive had its like breathing it feels natural to my whole being. Loving them helped me to love myself better love others better heal myself& grow so much. Ive loved before but never any real issues letting someone go after we broke up. Even if it was hard Im not the type to pine over some1 or any of that but if they asked me in the morning Id drop everything now to move where they are and to try to work on things. Ive thought about& tried to bring it up more than once but something always happened to1 of us that would of just made the timing inappropriate& they mean too much to me to just throw it at them when theyre going thru shit. Even if it didnt work out& they didnt want me Id want to talk about it in a way that was as comfortable& healthy as poss for us both: its still not a good time rn for me to bring it up. They have a lot of on w/family & work & I’m also working thru some stuff so Im not looking to talk rn but I been thinking about them so much today. I miss them a lot& have that “idk what to do” feeling. I just mostly really needed to get it off my chest& maybe have another opinion cuz I cant really talk to any1 about it so Thank U again for listening to me. - cj x

hey!! :) honestly to me it sounds like you have a really good + realistic understanding of your own situation. i’m really sorry for the pain you’re in and how heavy it all must feel, how frustrating it must not to be able to make things work at the moment when you love someone that much. all the hurt, confusion and sadness is completely justified and it is ok to sit with it and let it out until it leaves you entirely. no matter how long that takes. it’s all just a process. i’ve seen it happen quite a lot - where the person is right but the timing is wrong. if you want my opinion ig the first thing that came to mind for me like was, okay so you recognize that now is not the time to confess to them or to start anything romantic, but you also recognize that you both love each other and you’re both on the same page about how important you are to each other. that’s a really good sign because it indicates that even if you don’t get into a proper relationship any time soon, you’re still going to keep each other in your lives and you’re still going to nurture the love between you. i know platonic love is a little different but all of the goodness is still there and it’s still something to celebrate, to not shy away from. anyway, what i’m saying is, since you can’t do much to confront it right now - maybe planning what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it could occupy your mind until the time is right. if you can’t control the when you can least control the how. maybe writing down your thoughts and reading them over, trying your best to find what expression feels most accurate to your emotions could be a good place to start. perhaps seeing it all clearly laid out like that will help you feel less conflicted and more sure of where you want to go from here. i think it’s natural to not be fully certain anyway because emotions r so wishy washy at the best of times. it’s normal not to know what to do, nobody goes. we just do the best we can to be honest w the people we care about. sidenote it’s really respectful of you to be so considerate of whether or not they can handle such a heavy conversation btw, it’s really cool of you. you clearly care about them a lot as i’m assuming they do to you nd that’s what matters the most. so yeah i guess feeling it out and being prepared to have the talk when the moment presents itself would b the best course of action?? imo anyway. i’m usually a bit wary of going back to old flames but it doesn’t sound like you ended on bad terms last time. and it also sounds like you’re still super in love with them, AND like you’re going to be respectful of whatever their response may be. so i can’t see this ruining things for you guys beyond repair. anyway i really hope you guys get there eventually and that you both share a lot of love and life together for many years to come. i’m rooting for you a lot!! take care x

[shhh-no-ones-home]

a million and one (*) chris motionless x reader

+++++++++ Request from @motionless-whore98 : "I'm wanting to do one where I'm dating Chris motionless and we get into a big argument and break up before he goes on tour but we end up getting back together I want it be smutty if you can"

(*) - not smut but leads to it and has the immediate after

also i am so sorry this took so long but thank you for being patient with me, i do hope you like it!

Song: the two tongues (screaming salvation) by as it is

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @thisplace-ishaunted @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @satans-arse ( @joeynihil and @dracomalfoyswifey you are both still on my list but i know blogs have changed, if you would like to continue to be on the list great! if not thats perfectly fine too just lemme know so i can take you off ^-^ thanks!) +++++++++

"so ive been thinking."

i said slowly, looking to chris across the table from me. we hadnt really talked much about tour in the past weeks and its been daunting, constantly in the back of my mind. i didnt want to do this but i couldnt stop myself anymore.

"okay?"

he said, brow raised. he looked almost intrigued. i scraped a prong of my fork lightly against the plate in front of me.

"i dont think I can do this anymore."

I looked down at the table almost ashamed. I just wanted to get this over with.

"What are you saying?"

He said slowly. When I looked back up at him he was staring me down, hurt written all over his features. I frowned.

"I can't handle this back and forth like I thought I could. Everything was so nice in the beginning but every time you leave I just feel so alone."

He drew his brows.

"I don't wanna be that person but I did tell you you could come along-"

"And leave my life?"

I cut him off. He set his fork down.

"Okay but you can't blame this on me. I did offer-"

I held my hand up.

"I get that, Chris, but I just can't handle this. I can't handle the guilt of not going but I also refuse to leave my job, my home, my life; for months at a time. I love you, I really do. But for my own sanity I can't do this anymore."

He seemed like he was getting angrier and the few patrons at the tables around us had began to look and point. I felt even worse now than I did when coming to terms with this decision.

"So what you're saying is you don't want me anymore."

I looked down and shook my head.

"That not it at all."

I looked back to him.

"Like I said, I do love you. I care so deeply for you. But I can't physically or emotionally deal with you coming and going all the time."

He nodded slowly.

"Can't we make this work? Even a little bit?"

I let out an exasperated laugh.

"How?"

He threw his hands in the air.

"Hell I don't know, take a leave of absence? Video call more? Spend more time together all around?"

I sighed.

"We both know that's not gonna work."

He closed his eyes and turned his head to the ceiling. I could see the vein at the base of his neck pop out a little bit as he got more frustrated.

"Okay."

He said, looking back at me. He nodded.

"Okay, I'll let go. But I don't want this to end badly. I do love you too and I want so badly for this to work."

I could tell he really meant it but I just couldn't do this.

"I know, I did too, but at this point it just can't last."

He let out a long breath.

"Is it alright if I wait till after tour to get my stuff from your house?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, I'll keep it safe till you get back."

°°°°°°°°°

I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel as a knock came from my front door a second time.

"I'm coming!"

I yelled.

"Calm down."

I said, rolling my eyes as I reached the door. I unlocked it and swung it open only to see Chris standing in front of me with a small smile on his face.

"I'm back."

He said with a half laugh, scratching the back in his neck. He had been gone for almost two months. I had almost forgot we had broken up... I still talked to him while he was gone so not much had changed. Other than the tone and energy of everything of course.

"I see that."

I said amused.

"Can I come in? I came for my stuff if that's okay."

He asked and I nodded.

"Uh, yeah, I have most of it packed."

I pointed to a box in the living room as he entered. There was still some clothes I hadn't packed yet but most of his other stuff was ready to go.

"I do wish you would've called first though, I just finished making dinner."

He blushed a bit as he knelt in front of the box.

"Yeah sorry about that but I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd try."

I nodded.

"That's okay, I made enough for two. if you want to stay?''

He looked back up at me and smiled.

"I'd love that, and maybe take a look around and make sure I've got everything before I leave?

I let out a short laugh.

"Yeah if you want I don't mind, in case I forgot anything. The only thing I haven't really packed is your clothes."

He nodded, noticing my shirt.

"I see that."

I frowned for a second before looking down. I hadn't even realized till now. I always wore this shirt, it didn't even occur to me that it wasn't mine. Not anymore at least.

"Right."

He laughed a little.

"How about we start in the bedroom."

I nodded and followed him as he walked down the hallway. When we got there I stood in the doorway and watched him, pulling open drawers slowly and inspecting them. He grabbed the few things and tossed them in the empty box by the closet before going in. I had really meant to pack it all, I just hadn't gotten around to it. I sighed and walked further into the room to watch as he dropped more clothes into the box. The last was a large black hoodie with the 'gentlemans hockey club' on it that he always wore. God those days out skating were some of my favorite. I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest and looking to the ground.

"You okay?"

He asked, snapping my attention. I shrugged.

"Yeah I'm fine."

He stepped closer to me and I dropped my arms.

"I guess that's the only thing not packed."

He said, reaching for the shirt and rubbing his fingers over the hem. I tried to study his face, us just staring at each other for a second, neither wanting to let go. Before I knew it he was inching forward, looking to my lips quickly, then to my eyes for protest. he wouldn't get it though. He kissed me gently and I couldn't help but melt into him, draping my arms over his shoulders. I had missed him so much and so badly didn't want to let this go. When he pulled away I was quick to kiss him again, our mouths moving against each other.

"i still need my shirt back."

he said a little breathless. i nodded.

"youre right."

i said pulling it up and over my head before kissing him again, very needy this time. he kissed me back with passion as we walked back into the bed.

"god i missed you."

he said as we fell back, him laying on top of me as we breathed heavily.

"i missed you too."

i said before kissing him again, running my fingers gently over his face. his hands roamed my body slowly as we made out.

"Chris?"

I asked through kisses. He hummed in response.

"Nevermind, keep going."

°°°°°°°°°

As we laid side by side, panting heavily, my head reeled. I told myself I wouldn't go through with this but here I was contemplating it again. I heard him laugh lightly as he ran his hand over his exposed stomach. I looked over at him, a huge grin on his face.

"What?"

I asked, not sure what joke I missed. He shook his head.

"It's nothing I just, did not expect today to go like this at all."

He looked over at me and I couldn't help the smile creeping its way across my lips too.

"You and me both babe."

He studied my face for a second before rolling onto his side and staring at me. I thought for a second before mirroring him.

"I don't want you to go."

I said softly, his hand making its way to my cheek.

"I thought you said this couldnt work."

I nodded.

"I know but as much as I hate seeing you go I can't help but revel in the feeling of having you home. I missed that so much."

I said, watching his eyes dance back and forth looking to my own.

"Ya know, all of tour I kept telling myself things were complicated. Not that we were over, just that we needed work. And maybe that's true."

I placed my hand on his and held it for a second.

"Are you willing to give this another try?"

I asked hopeful. He nodded before kissing the tip of my nose gently.

"I'm willing to give this a million more tries."

[just-zenitsu]

Zenitsu should've had an arc where he slowly learns how to love himself with the help of his friends and realizes he's not weak and has worth and doesn't deserve pain and doesn't deserve to be treated like shit- I just want him to have some shred of confidence please please please please please ple-

ok so every time i had an ask like this ive always just said ‘but look at the bright side! what are hc and aus for! gotoge had problems,, etc etc’ and i feel like ive always just glossed u guys over and maybe even made it seem like these opinions dont matter so im gonna take the time to try and answer this a smidge seriously (under read more bc its long, also im not tagging bc tumblr might fuck up the formatting again rip) (also warning for manga spoilers)

(also disclaimer sdjfhksd i havent read the manga! so im gonna go off of other people’s claims about zenitsu having wasted potential. and to be fair ive read the few last chapters, or at least PARTS of them) 

im not new to having a favorite character whose more or less claimed to have had a lot of potential but losing it in canon bc of, for a lack of a more general term, ‘’bad writing’’. and im not saying kny has bad writing, i dont think im one to judge that JUST yet but for comparison yall should know that i have a fav character in another series that is written so badly that he has the personality of cardboard and was only given life thanks to fanon content. and i dont blame people when they say they dont like said character! its the same as zenitsu, only that this guy, this yellow idiot, actually has a much more solid grasp on how he acts/feels/does things! but more often than not, this linear perspective does damage to how deep his character actually goes, thus just making him the stereotypical ‘pervert’ in an anime. ive seen people say that he’s just the same as mineta!!! which is just. very sad for me

i understand why they’d think like that though, maybe there wouldve been a difference if kny became more popular b4 bnha, but who knows! anyways, back to zenitsu. now, i understand if people ever found his actions uncomfortable or annoying! but when people say that he’s just a crybaby and that he’s literally just dead weight that’s when i get,,, well, iffy. and this is kinda where the frustration comes, we see zenitsu overcoming these obstacles off screen, apparently it was even only just mentioned in a passing comment that zenitsu had stopped having to fall asleep to do missions and cried less when he was going on solo missions. these are the tidbits that i wish was shown more explicitly in canon, showcasing his growth and such. MAYBE it was touched upon once kaigaku came up, but thats another problem, literally kaigaku only showed up once in a flashback and then suddenly he’s a demon? sure a brief flashback that showed him being in gyomei’s orphanage wouldve been enough to put some light, but i think there was still some things that wasnt touched upon when we discuss how kaigaku was portrayed in canon. i think he’s even MORE misunderstood compared to zenitsu. they have (arguably) been in the same situation in their childhood, have drastically different personalities and dealt with it in their own way, but in the end i think he was just used so that zenitsu had a big bad he had to defeat. i think there wouldve been more impact if we were shown thunder fam interacting more, imagine how cool that wouldve been, ESPECIALLY if kaigaku just wasnt thrown into the manga and was given a chance to interact with kamaboko before hand. just, a lot to think about.

and now we have what happened in the last few chapters, w tanjirou becoming a demon and after all that zenitsu just says something along the lines of ‘ill make u pay for hurting me and my future wife (nezuko)’ which sucks to a degree. but count the fact that gotoge was inching towards zennezu, as i mentioned in a previous post, he was worried about nezuko getting hurt by tanjirou. im also a bit disappointed that he didnt really do much in terms of, well, caring for tanjirou, but one GOOD thing that i really liked happening was in the previous chapters bEFORE tan got turned to a demon, the part w him assuring inosuke that he can still hear tanjirou’s heartbeat, and then consecutively screaming at tanjirou that he had to stay alive, he went as far to say that he hears nezuko’s human heartbeat and that he has a family to return to, which was, surprise surprise, apparently somewhat a LIE! i cant confirm this unfortunately since ive long since lost the explanation but someone said that zenitsu wasnt actually able to hear nezuko’s heartbeat then, meaning he lied for tanjirou’s sake bc he knew that if he’d pull through something, he’d pull through it for nezuko. (there’s also that part where zenitsu fought hard to keep this family alive since well, he doesnt have one to return to, which is just. ouch) another thing i liked about this part is that he wasnt!!! crying!!!, but both inosuke and tanjirou were and dont u just love the irony. dont u just love it when zenitsu, resident crybaby of the demon slayer corps, is the one who shouts at the both of his friends, who are usually the ones pushing him, yelling at him to stop sniveling and fight, to raise their chins up and to not give up? i think these few moments are JUST ABSOLUTELY TASTY. 

but. unfortunately, they are glossed over once we have what happened in chapter 203.

tl/dr; zenitsu’s character is something much more than a crybaby who’s a pervert and annoying. these points overshadow the fact that he’s a kind person, who was willing to protect nezuko despite knowing she was a demon just BECAUSE he trusted tanjirou that much and that he had a kind sound! he’s willingly THROWN HANDS when someone talked bad about kaigaku, a person he ADMITTED HE HATES, because he respects them as a person! zenitsu is much more than a crybaby who’s a pervert and annoying. if only canon were able to explain much more clearly than these few tidbits that we were given.

//im crying at the club im so sorry this is so long oh god oh fuck. anyways ive been disappointed time and time again and ive long since really stopped looking forward to the best to my fav characters and ive been p negative in previous fandoms so its why i avoided complaining like this in this blog but yeah kjfhkjsdf thank u for reading,,,