#I can understand that a) he'd probably blame himself if something were to happen

[mymusingss]

Because I lost the original, here's a full updated list of Tom and McQ things that live rent free in my brain.

McQ having misconceptions about Tom but deciding to meet him regardless of them.

Tom believes in love at first sight and after knowing McQ for mere hours, he told his son he'd spend the rest of his life making movies with him.

McQ moving his whole ass family to another continent because Tom moved to London and McQ naturally thought it'd make sense for him to go. I can understand moving because it does make life easier, but buying a place only 10 minutes away from your bestie?

McQ dropping everything when Tom called to ask for help with Ghost Protocol and just straight up going to Dubai over Christmas instead of just asking for the script like a normal person.

McQ literally saying that he'd never direct another MI movie again. 5 seconds later he was, in fact, directing another MI movie again.

McQ saying that he Tom calls about a movie and I seconds later he's on a plane.

McQ deciding to add a full underwater scene because they used a tank scene as a stand in for Rogue Nation, Tom got excited when he saw it and McQ realized he'd have to write one after. Why? I guess is because who would have the heart to tell Tom Cruise there wasn't an underwater scene at all 💀

McQ writing the DR scene with the horsey because of a movie he knew Tom liked. What are logistics and expanses when your best friend wants to pet a horse, right?

McQ changing the timeline of the movie because Tom looked great with the longer hair (which he has yet to cut, by the way).

Tom and Chris making it look like they live together.

They both making it seem like they're a family. "Our families are here today" at Cannes, "our families live together, they commute together" (Tom said in a DR episode thingy).

According to everyone else, Chris and McQ share a psychic link where they don't have to say anything and the other already knows what they want and need and they constantly finish each other's sentences.

Tom casually saying McQ has a thing for him in handcuffs.

Tom declaring his love for McQ loudly at every chance he'd get.

McQ literally implying he'd rather die with Tom in the event of something going wrong in the helicopter stunt than to receive the news (that Tom had died).

They're are now accepting that they are creative soulmates.

[ashlinxsloves]

-AARON HOTCHNER HEADCANONS-

The promised hcs for our favourite hot dilf Aaron Hotchner 🤭 I hope you guys like them, it's gonna be a little lengthy and I've divided them between Basic, SFW Dating and NSFW.. Minors please don't interact with the nsfw content.

–Basic–

Hotch would be the type of guy who listens to classical music around the team, but once he's alone in his personal car, he has a whole collection of CDs in his glove box of his favourite bands and albums (The Beatles, etc.)

He'd also listen to audiobooks during long drives home. The genre can vary between the classics or just a light novel.

A huge overpacker. He packs the essentials during cases, but if the trip is personal, he packs almost everything – sunscreen, mosquito repellent, a map, extra batteries, a flashlight, etc. You'll never know if it might come in handy

Dad instincts are strong af, will know something is wrong before it happens

Wakes up at the crack of dawn. Became a habit after working so long in the BAU

Hotch is overall a light sleeper. Mostly because of emergencies or sudden calls from the BAU

The king of overworking. Before Haley died, he used to work so much that he got nosebleeds. He does it less now and spends more time with Jack than with paperwork.

Likes his coffee black with two teaspoons of sugar. He doesn't like it too sweet but isn't bitter either.

He most probably had a secret rockstar phase in his teens. Crazy shoulder-length hair, studded belts, band tees and EYELINER. Stopped after he became a junior in high school though.

Used to blame himself for failing to save the victims during his early years in the field. He tries to remember every person he failed to save in the past and compensate by saving more while being calm and tactful.

Spends a lot of time with Jack during the weekends. He's trying to make up for lost time after being so busy with his job than being a father. They would go on road trips, and theme parks and would do a whole lot just to see his son smile.

Hotch would unironically start drinking apple or pineapple juice after Jack just asked him to. Just for no reason at all.

He gets horrible migraines because of staying up late and not getting enough rest.

-SFW Dating-

When the two of you just started dating, he wasn't 100% sure of it because 1. your age gap (reader would be in her mid-20s) and 2. The fraternization rule in the Bureau.

The both of you kept the whole thing a secret for about four months until the team figured it out on a random Tuesday.

"I- I mean it was pretty obvious from how Hotch was hovering over you all the time and the ways his stoic face softens when he addresses you. Not to forget the way his pupils dilate-" "That's enough Reid."

When you were gonna meet Jack for the first time, you were quite nervous about it, but Aaron reassured you that he'd love you (and the little dude did).

Hotch would try to take you on dates, but it was kind of hard with your hectic schedules.

So it would usually be movie nights at his place along with some takeout dinner after putting Jack to bed.

It took Hotch a while to open up to you, but you were there to support him and he was worth the wait.

Picks you up for work and drives you home even if you told him that it was okay and you had your own car, he insisted on driving you home and seeing you get there safely.

Brings you coffee and something sweet from the cafe. It's his way of telling you he cares about you without the team teasing you after he goes into his office.

He would start to think irrationally after finding out you got hurt during a case. He wouldn't be able to think straight on the way to the hospital and blurted a mumbled 'I love you' while putting pressure onto your wound.

When you sleep over at his place, he loves seeing you wear his old college T-shirts.

Hotch thinks about Haley a lot and feels guilty for it, but you understand that she was his first love and he peppers you with soft kisses to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart... I know I shouldn't be thinking about what could have been and focus on what is.. I'll do better, I promise.."

Calls you to his office sternly as if you were in trouble but in reality, he just wants you for himself in the office for a little while.

His heart clenched yet light when Jack asked him if you were going to be his new mommy.

Pet names would be rare when it comes to him. What really matters is when he calls you by your name. But the occasional 'Sweetheart' and 'Darling' might slip out.

He shows you his unserious side. It was a whole 180 for you and it made you fall for him even more. He's an adorable dork.

Even if the two of you are dating, there's a fine line between being together behind closed doors and pure professionalism. Hotch is still your superior and there wouldn't be any special treatment even if you were his significant other.

But when he realizes he gets too rough with you he will apologize in private after the case.

His love language is quality time, so he tries to be around you and Jack as much as he can.

Cheesy pickup lines to try and make you laugh during a hard day. Only in private though.

Knows what to do when you're on your period. He'll bring a heating pad, warm fuzzy blankets, your favourite snacks and painkillers.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT MINORS DNI!!!

-NSFW Dating-

• The sex is incredible. Hotch knows all the right places to hit and how to give you a godly amount of orgasms.

• He starts out slow, letting you get used to the stretch and how much he's filling you up. You can practically feel his cock in your throat from how full you feel.

• Gentle feather-like kisses on your forehead, telling you how good you feel around him while starting to move his hips at a quicker pace.

• From slow, gentle thrusts, it changes into something more primal and rough. As if he were lashing out all his frustrations from work into your tight, little pussy, trying to fuck you into next week.

• And he does it well. He fucks you senseless until you're coming on his cock multiple times before he finishes and spills his cum into the condom he's wearing.

• He just loves fucking you in the missionary position, because he sees how your face contorts in pleasure.

• The first time the two of you slept together was at your place after a really stressful case and the two of you had a drink too many.

• Obviously, Hotch was still a bit sober but you were out of it. He wouldn't do anything without your consent, but you had dragged him into your bedroom and things got heated.

• Bruised your cervix one too many times. The two of you rarely have any sex but if you do, you go all out. He apologises with an amazing bath and breakfast in bed.

• Amazing aftercare. He'll take care of you after the both of you are done, even if he's tired. He'd always clean you up, get you a glass of water and press soft kisses on your shoulders. Cuddling and whispered confessions under messy sheets.

• Not a big fan of having sex in public spaces. He needs privacy when he's trying to fuck and pleasure you.

• But he does know about the dirty fantasies you have about getting fucked on his desk. He's seen the books read and articles you look up. Not like you could've hidden it from him anyway.

• He fulfills those fantasies to the best of his capabilities when no one's left in the office and it's just the two of you. He looks through the last of his files, calls you to his office and closes the door.

• His tie was loose, sleeves rolled up, revealing his forearms. His hair was slightly dishevelled as if he ran his fingers through them multiple times.

• Hotch makes you suck his cock until you're gagging, being a little rougher on you. Then he got you splayed on his desk, pushing your pencil skirt up and ripping your stockings by the crotch area.

• When he noticed how wet you got, he smirked, moving the gussets of your panties to the side. He then flicked your sensitive clit, making you whimper as slick gushed out your weeping hole.

• “You like this, don't you, sweetheart? Lying on my desk, messing up my paperwork with your slutty pussy?”

• He's not the type to degrade you, but if you really wanted to he would. But he wouldn't go too far with the insults.

• He's a switch. Since he's usually dominant in most of his everyday life, Hotch lets you take over once in a while.

• Loves going down on you. He likes loosening your tight hole with his mouth and savours the taste of your essence on his tongue.

• Hotch goes weak when you go down on him even if he doesn't ask you to. Praises and soft grunts.

• Isn't the type to be loud. Mostly pants and let's out soft groans when your pussy convulses around his shaft.

• Loves hearing you whine his name and complain how deep he is.

• Once he saw you looking at a site involving different positions, but the one that piqued his interest the most was the mating press.

• Was curious and wanted to try it with you. Hotch was too riled up to put on a condom that night and filled you up to the brim, having you pressed into the mattress, your calves over his shoulders as he buried himself deeper, hitting so many new places that it made you see white.

That's all for now, I hope you liked it 🤭🤭🤭

[awearywritersworld]

tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

[ghostinthegallery]

This scene wouldn't leave my head, so congrats it's the world's problem now.

In which Ratchet has a graveside chat with Wing, aka the dead guy that fixed his husband for him.

“I want to be very clear.” Ratchet placed the small cup full of engex at the base of the stone plinth. “I don't believe in ghosts or spirits or any of that nonsense. When we die, we die. That’s it. No Primus or Guiding Hand or cushy afterlife and definitely no looking out for the living. Got it?”

The grave did not respond, which was good. It was what Ratchet expected. He sat down, legs crossed, careful not to crush any of the shimmering blue flowers beneath him. 

“I'm just on the fragging necroworld, and I'm not above respecting the local customs.”

Sunlight warmed his back plating as he settled into place. It was a nice day. Most days on the necroworld were nice, when nobody was trying to kill them. Not a place Ratchet would want to stay long term, but it made for a decent rest stop. Even with all the reminders of how fragile life was. The death flowers and the graves.

Carved into this grave was simply the name Wing.

“He really wanted to find you, when he found out what this place was.” Ratchet said. “Drift, I mean. Or Deadlock, you might've called him that. Got all excited at the idea of visiting. You’re one of the only things in his past he'll talk much about.”

He stared at the engex he'd offered, then pulled a flask out of his subspace. No sense making the ghost—who did not exist—drink alone.

“Since he probably never mentioned me, I'm Ratchet. Medic. Drift's conjunx, but that’s a recent development.”

Had he seriously just introduced himself to a rock? Maybe he'd gotten knocked in the helm and forgotten about it and this was all processor damage. Still, it felt right to speak, so he did. Not like anyone else was around.

“I saved his life once, a long time ago. He stood out to me. To this day, I don't understand why, but maybe you saw it too. Maybe you saw something in him that made you want to help. Sounds like you did a lot for him. Probably more than me, if we're being honest. I got him back on his feet, but after that…” Ratchet sighed. “He was still poor as scrap. He still watched enforcers shoot his friend. He was still angry.”

The image of Drift walking away from the clinic, off to sell his frame to anyone who wanted to use it made Ratchet's tank feel sour. It worsened when he thought about what was actually going on at those clinics. He wondered what he would have done if he'd known.  

“It sounds like I have you to blame for all Drift's spectralist nonsense. So frag you for that. It's annoying as hell,” he continued, eager to change the subject. “Yeah, it helped him sort through things. Even I can admit that. When he's not using religion to hide from his problems, it…it gives him some comfort. Still killed a lot of good bots, but hey, he’s in good company.”

Ratchet had no desire to hunt down Drift’s statue and see how many of the necrobot’s death flowers surrounded it. Or how many surrounded his own statue, for that matter. 

“War’s over, and we’ve all got to move on somehow. Frankly, he’s doing better than most. Brave, resourceful, too self-sacrificing for his own good. You fixed him up nice.” Ratchet studied his flask. “And I get all the benefits. Doesn’t seem fair but, thanks. I guess.”

He sighed and adjusted his position. “He feels real guilty about what happened to you. Thinks you'd still be alive if you hadn't helped him. Maybe he's right. Who knows? But you don't sound like the kind of person that would regret helping someone. You sound better than that.”

Heaviness settled over Ratchet's shoulders as he said, “I don't regret saving him either. I never have, even when Deadlock was a name autobots whispered in the same tone as necrobot. And considering how things turned out,” he chuckled. “I don’t know if that makes me a hypocrite. I’m happier with him. Less tired. He just feels right.” Ratchet added, “Probably don’t have to explain that to you.”

The strangeness of this one-sided conversation hit him again, but not harshly. It was an easy way to unload his thoughts. Like a waking defrag. 

“The swords were a nice touch.” A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Drift looked good wielding those blades of his. Ratchet didn't mind the view when he trained. Didn't mind it in the slightest.

“He still carries your greatsword. Doesn't use it much, but it's always on his back.” Ratchet took another pull from his flask. “Been hearing some of the other bots say he should fight a duel with Cyclonus and his big greatsword which even I think is a bit sacrilegious, but—”

“There you are.”

Ratchet started then turned towards the familiar voice. Drift, footsteps annoyingly silent, approached from behind. His expression morphed from inquisitive to shocked when he got close enough to read the stone’s inscription.

“You found him,” Drift said softly.

Ratchet nodded and moved aside so Drift could kneel. Drift’s EM field was wild with conflicting emotions. Surprise, happiness, and grief mingled together, and he made no attempt to hide them. 

“I was about to come get you,” Ratchet said, which was technically true. He fully intended to bring Drift to his friend’s grave. After he was done with whatever this was.

Drift’s optics settled on the cup of engex. He smirked.

“Is that an offering?” He gasped with exaggerated shock. “A committed skeptic, bringing a gift to a ghost? Ratchet, is that you or some sort of mimic?”

Ratchet grabbed the finger Drift poked against his chest. “I didn’t want to get slag from you for being disrespectful.” 

His spark jumped as Drift pressed his hand into Ratchet’s and intertwined their fingers. Then, to Ratchet’s shock, Drift swiped the engex cup and downed it in one gulp.

“What was that?” he demanded, surprised at his own offense.

“Wing never drank engex,” Drift said. “He always gave it to me whenever mechs brought him anything. The Crystal City stuff was so diluted I couldn’t even get a buzz, but it took the edge off.”

“Ah.” Ratchet nodded. “Guess you two had an understanding.”

Drift nodded and let his frame lean into Ratchet’s. Silence settled over them. Ratchet ran his thumb over the back of Drift's hand while the latter grew contemplative. His face fell, melancholy overtaking his field. 

“I wish you two could have met,” Drift said. “He would have liked you.”

“I doubt that.” Ratchet replied. “But I’d have liked to meet him anyway.”

A breeze caught the flowers, like ripples over water. Ratchet didn’t interrupt when Drift shut off his optics and took a meditative intake. They stayed like that for a long time, hand in hand, while Drift steadied his field and Ratchet watched and took the occasional sip from his flask. He’d learned to savor quiet moments like this. They didn’t come often.

Drift’s optics brightened and he said, “Is there anyone here you want to see?”

Ratchet waved his free hand. “I get enough trouble dealing with the living. Don't need to invite the dead to cause problems too.”

“So you won’t come and visit Gasket with me?” Drift pouted.

Ratchet groaned. “I didn’t say that.”

With a smile that made Ratchet's internals melt, Drift helped him up. He then paused and offered a spectralist sign to Wing’s grave. 

“Farewell,” he said. “And thank you for everything.”

As Drift pulled Ratchet away, Ratchet dipped his chin towards the plinth and muttered his own nearly silent,

“Thanks.”

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

omg just read ur long sleeves fix it was sSOOOO GOOD! if u write part 2 i will be tuned in & reading ☝️☝️

i miss you, i'm sorry- r.c. x reader

part 2 of long sleeves!!!

OMGG IM SOO GLAD YOU LIKED IT <3

warnings: swearing angst (?) mention of drugs, rehab, and reader is so fucking codependent, like girl?? anyway, this is horrible y’all i cannot for the life of me write a happy ending so i tried my best 😞 can you tell i’m depressed LMAOOO? YALL SHES DEPRESSED TOO 😔 but seriously if i could make it happier hmu, i won’t get mad i promise. i’m new at this whole writing thing 🤠 not proofread cuz i wanted to post this already so tell me if there are big mistakes and my first language isn’t english so sorry if there are errors

disclaimer: the reader's depression is based on my own experiences, everybody is different and what i might go through isn't the same as what another person goes through. with that said, if you find any of these topics triggering, i understand! so, please always take care of yourself <3

ps: sorry this took so long, i've just been busy with school and my dad has been sick for a few days now so i haven't had time.

I'M ALSO HALFWAY DONE THROUGH THE FLASHBACKS FOR NO BODY, NO CRIME. i just haven't had the time fml. hopefully tomorrow 🤞. ok enough whining and into the story 🥁

want it, so i got it, did it, so it's done

making the bed started playing and the first line felt like a punch to the gut. i hated when life kicked you when you were already down.

i quickly changed to a cheery workout playlist that felt more mocking, in a sense, but decided it was better to not relate to the lyrics than listening to my despair sing back to me.

after that day in tannyhill, i'd decided to start running at night. in a silly way i thought that maybe running would burn away my pain in a healthy way. though how healthy running on barely any sleep, with nothing but depressive thoughts in my brain, was beyond me.

still, at least this way i felt like i was doing something. that i was taking action instead of moping. that doesn't make any sense. ugh, shut the fuck up. i really didn't know whose side i was on half the time.

the night sky was clear, making the stars wink at me as if they knew something i didn't. the sea breeze caressed my face, combing its fingers through my hair and drying away my tears.

running equated crying but by the time i got home i would be so exhausted that i couldn't even think. which was, of course, the ultimate goal. not think of him.

six months had passed and it didn't hurt any less. on the contrary, all i could think was how i'd abandoned him. probably when he needed me the most. two weeks after our breakup, sarah called me to tell me that rafe was terribly sick and they were taking him to the hospital. i'd debated whether i should tell her what had happened but she then said that she was aware of the situation and that i shouldn't go see him. she was only letting me know and, in a way, it felt like she was blaming me.

that was the last time i had contact with the camerons, town gossip and my mother becoming the only ties left between us. he'd gone to rehab and was apparently taking better care of himself, his family supporting him every step of the way.

fucking hypocrites. ward never cared when i told him about his son's addiction, instead saying that i should keep quiet, that everything would be okay. rose only cared about new shopping places to spend the family's money. sarah had started spending time with her new boyfriend and barely came home and wheezie was far too young.

so that left me. it had always been me, but when word got out of how bad rafe he was, they then played the card of ignorance and became the holy family.

i took a deep breath and slowed down to a jog, unaware of where the fuck i was. i looked at my surroundings for the first time and of course, i was in front of tannyhill. the gates were close but i could hear muffled voices on the other side. stepping closer to listen like the eavesdropper i was.

i looked through the bars of the gate, only to see him or well his back. he was with ward, who was lowering another suitcase to the ground. i frowned but i then heard his voice saying my name.

Ward turned his head sharply in his direction, "you are not seeing her again, alright? she's the one that got you into this mess in the first place." oh so the asshole blamed me.

he turned to face his dad and i gasped. his hair was buzzed and he looked older, healthier. he looked good but i couldn't help but feel like this was a different person entirely. i felt a slight pang in my chest because i'd been the one who had insisted on him leaving his hair longer and now he'd erased that too.

his voice interrumpted my thoughts, "dad, that is not true and you know it." why was he defending me? in a way what ward said was true. i'd left him alone that night.

his father stepped closer to him and put his hands on his son’s shoulders, “son, trust me when I tell you that it is best for you to stay away from her. don’t set yourself up for disappointment. We know where that led you.” Ward then kissed his forehead like one did to a child in a condescending manner.

Ward then picked up the suitcases left and turned to enter the house, leaving him standing there with a strange expression on his face. He lifted his gaze and somehow found mine, like they always did. I’d forgotten how we always sensed the other, no matter how much time had passed. My heartbeat sped up, causing me to quickly turn around and ran away from him as fast as I could.

“He is such a good father to those kids, especially Rafe.” Vanessa, my mother’s friend said, swooning over ward. Like god, he’s married, get a life.

Either way it seemed like every corner of this island is haunted. Ever since he’d come back as a stellar young man, all the women at the country club started obsessing over him, but more so his father. They practically held him as a saint and it only made my blood boil.

I felt my mothers gaze on me when his name was mentioned, noting the way I flinched and seemed particularly interested in the half eaten strawberries on my plate. They continued to chatter, causing me to tune them out and look at my surroundings for a distraction. Big mistake.

The doors had opened as if on cue, and there he was with a new found confidence that was unfamiliar to me. Before I could look away his eyes found mine, quieting everything around me, dèjá vu flooding my body. We looked at each other for what seemed an eternity until ward came up behind him, clapping his hand on his shoulder to turn him away from me. The colder version of his son’s eyes bore into mine in a warning. Stay away from him.

I looked back down at my plate no longer interested in my food. My eyes welled up and I knew that if i stayed a minute longer on this table I would start sobbing or worse.

“Mom? I’m not feeling well so I’m going home,” my voice quiet in her ear and she realized what I meant.

She nodded, “take the car, ok?”

“It’s ok, I can walk home.” I needed to clear my head and driving wasn’t the best idea.

“Are you sure?” The concern in her eyes made my heart wrench.

“I’m sure, mom. Thanks.” I stood up and voicing my goodbyes, leaving the club as fast as I could.

The sun was out and the sky was clear of clouds, a stark contrast of how I felt inside. I walked down the path, golf carts filled with kooks passing me by. All of them chattering about the next party or newest deal they had closed.

I kept walking and walking until I reached the boardwalk, which was thankfully empty. I sat down on the edge, swinging my feet over the water with the girl staring back at me and somehow looked as if she was drowning.

The wind carried the sound of footsteps behind me, my body tensing as his perfume arriving along with his shadow looming over me. The drowning girl hid away, leaving me alone. I almost begged her to take me with her.

“Why do you always run away?” my heart sank and then restarted when I heard his voice. For the first time in months, I heard the world clearly again. I hadn’t realized the power it had over me. Didn’t you?

Who was I kidding? He would always be my favorite person, everything about me was shaped by him. My favorite color was blue, my favorite smell was his cologne, my favorite taste were his lips, my favorite sound in the world was his voice, his body my favorite thing to touch. But most of all, his soul.

I took a deep breath before lifting my gaze to his. The knot on my throat made it hard to speak, “Who said I was running away?”

He scoffed before sitting down next to me. “I know you. Or at least I thought I did.” His tone sounded reproachful, his eyes searching my face. this time i really looked at him, gone were his red, glassy eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks but most importantly, the anger that had felt permanently etched into his features every time he looked at me.

the buzz cut now made his features more prominent, his body was stronger and not as skinny as when he’d been living off cocaine and god knew what else.

he looked more like the rafe i’d met forever ago, but there was still something that wasn’t quite there. his innocence. which wasn’t the one of a child, but more so the type of innocence that comes with ignorance. the type where you think you can get away with anything and that bad things only happen to somebody else, but never to you. no matter how bad you behave, you genuinely believed there would be no consequences.

and the boy in front of me knew how untrue that belief was.

“rafe, i—” the knot on my throat became worse, preventing me from talking further. great, now here come the waterworks!

i turned my face away so he couldn’t see my tears but it was too late.

he took hold of my face, “look at me.”

i tried to jerk away but it was no use. i had no other choice but to cry silently while he judged me.

“im going to talk and you’re going to listen, understood?” his voice now held a tone of authority i’d never heard before.

that’s kinda hot. dude, now is not the time.

i nodded because what the fuck was i supposed to do?

he turned so both of his hands held my face now. then he did something i wasn’t expecting, he leaned in and kissed my forehead for what felt like an eternity.

when he pulled away his gaze held mine, with a force stronger than any physical restraint i could possibly be held in.

the tears were flowing freely so i probably looked like a drowned cat at the moment.

“im not mad at you, ok? i hope you know that i never asked for you to not visit me. i know it was my dad that didn’t want you near me, but i swear that the only person i ever wanted by my side was you.

“i won’t deny that i was furious when you left me that night. i only got worse because i didn’t have anyone to stop me, or at least try to. i felt like you were the last person that still believed in me, who would always be beside me. and i took you for granted.” his words felt like a knife through my heart. i abandoned him.

“rafe, im sorry. i shouldn’t have left you like that. not when you needed me the most.” my words barely made sense but he somehow understood. he always did.

“no. you did the right thing. i hurt you, i told you that i hated you. when all you’d ever done for me was love me. i’m sorry, ok? if you hadn’t left then maybe i wouldn’t have gotten help.” he lowered his hands to his lap, my face burning where they had been resting.

“i know you tried to help me. that you talked to my dad about how i was and i know that he dismissed you. he only took me to the hospital because i overdosed and he didn’t want the island to know how ward cameron’s perfect son was a drug addict.” he laughed in a humorless manner, “hell, he even paid everyone at the hospital to keep quiet. that didn’t help much, frankly. gossip always finds its way.”

i wanted to say something but i could tell he wasn’t done so i waited until he felt ready.

this time his voice was hoarse, making me realize he wanted to cry too. i couldn’t take it anymore because nothing could hurt me more than seeing him in pain.

“rafe?” i murmured. he looked up with a broken expression causing me to wrap my arms around him. i felt him tense for a second before he hugged me back tightly.

my shirt got wet with our tears and we clung onto each other like a lifeline, with rafe repeating my name like a mantra. after a while, we pulled away and he held my face between his hands like before, only this time much gentler.

“i miss you, im sorry.”

“i miss you too, rafe.” i fell back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. we sat silently for a while before he spoke.

“can we at least be friends?” the question caught me by surprise.

“you’ve always been my best friend, rafe. but again i’m sorry for not being there, i should’ve done more.”

“no, you couldn’t have. it was the way things were supposed to be.”

he played with my hair like he used to, “you’ve always been my best friend too, kid.”

i punched him playfully at the name, making him chuckle. i pulled back to see his face and i wiped away the few tears that were left with my hand. he fell silent, leaning into my touch, “i love you, you know? not being close to you drove me insane. and it makes me so happy to see that you are healthy, at least physically.

“i want to help you in any way that i can and i want to be there from now on, if—“ his lips crushing onto mine cut me off before i could finish. his hands were in my hair, holding me in place as if afraid i’d run away again.

only i knew i wouldn’t. not this time. he groaned when i bit his lower lip, softly. he ran his tongue along mine before i let him in. i sighed into the kiss and pulled him impossibly closer. our lips explained more than any words that came out of them ever could. i separated from him to breathe and he only kept kissing my cheeks, jaw, neck until he reached my collarbone where he rested his head with quick, short breaths.

“i love you too,” he said. i touched his hair and ran my fingers over the short strands.

“i like your hair, by the way,” i murmured.

he laughed, pulling back. “really? i got it because i thought you would hate it.”

i rolled my eyes, “are you serious? either way, you look good with any haircut.”

“i wasn’t exactly planning on this to go like this. in my head, i was going to confront you and tell you all the ways i’d been miserable but that went away when i saw you that night by my house.”

“oh.”

he chuckled, “yeah. oh. anyway, i was telling my dad how i was going to ask why you never visited me and that’s why he said what you heard.

“i then realized it had been him and as if life liked playing tricks on me, there you were at the gate with a sad expression. yet before i could say anything you left running. i wanted to go after you but my dad called me inside and i didn’t want a fight that night. so i waited until i saw you today and when i was going to ask you to talk to me, again my dad came along. but then i saw you leave and i figured it was now or never, so i excused myself and he was so busy talking to the others at the table that he didn’t notice.”

i scoffed, “well, i’m guessing he noticed by now.”

he laughed, “yeah.”

we fell silent but i still had one more thing to ask, “how did you know i was here?” though i think i already knew the answer, after all i hadn’t exactly been surprised when he came. more like a sense of having your intuition confirmed.

“remember the night we met? i was alone and drunk, saying i was going for a night swim when i saw you sitting here alone. which should’ve alerted me that you were a weirdo but between your beauty and the alcohol, those thoughts went to shit.”

i blushed slightly, “i’m not a weirdo, jackass. i’d had a rough night.”

“i know, kid. i’m just messing with you and besides, i might’ve drowned that night if you hadn’t been here,” he smiled fondly but a bit sad as well.

“so, that makes me your knight in shining armor?” i grinned.

he scowled in mock annoyance, “how dare you mock a damsel in distress?”

i chuckled and felt a heavy weight lift off my chest. i felt lighter than i had in a while, and all because of him.

“my apologies, dear.”

he took my hand with a smile and brought it to his lips for a kiss, before placing it against his cheek.

“but to answer your question, we always find each other,” his words sinking in. that was true. we always did as if there was some invisible string tying him to me.

“you’re right. although you’re still not beating the stalker allegations,” i teased.

“ugh shut up, it was one time!” he groaned.

i burst out laughing, “you followed me for a whole day! that’s some stalker behavior type shit.”

“c’mon, kid. i wanted to give you your bracelet back and i didn’t know where you lived,” his eyes widening in a too innocent way which caused me to narrow mine.

“a bracelet that wasn’t even mine. plus you could’ve just given it to me when you first saw me,” i crossed my arms in front of my chest with a raised brow.

“oh c’mon, but where’s the fun in that?”

i pushed his shoulder, playfully only for him to laugh and hug me.

“i really just wanted to know if you were with someone else, so i wouldn’t make a fool of myself.” he whispered in my ear.

“you could’ve just asked,” i rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

“i wanted to be cool about it, ok? i had a reputation to maintain,” he joked but i knew he was a little serious. he’d been the epitome of a rich, arrogant, country club boy.

“i thought you were such an asshole.” who the fuck wears shades inside of a convenience store? you guessed it: rafe cameron.

he gasped in mock surprise, “you’re just saying that because you had the hots for me.”

“pfft, sure buddy. i think you’re projecting a little,” i laughed.

“i never said i didnt,” this time his tone was a little too serious making my heart beat faster.

“can we try this again?” he asked shyly.

i pondered for a moment before answering, “yes, but i want you to let me help you this time, ok?”

he moved his head to look me in the eye, “i promise.”

“ok, but wait. what about your father?” i’d somehow forgotten how he hated me now. or maybe always had.

“what about him? i’m an adult, i can make my own decisions. besides it’s none of his business. he’s the one that got us here in the first place.” his tone was now angry, which was rare when he spoke of his father. it was usually filled with frustration and sadness when it came to him. and i knew how important his father’s approval was to him.

“rafe, i don’t know. he’s still your father and i don’t want to come between you two,” i lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill.

he was silent for a moment before lifting my chin with his finger, frowning when he noticed my expression.

“you’re the love of my life. i’m not losing you again, ok? he’ll have to understand and i will talk to him. i’ll tell him how things really went down. plus, he isn’t innocent in any of this either.”

pursing my lips, i nodded. “ok” i didn’t really believe ward would be capable of changing his mind, but if it made rafe happy then i would try and compromise.

rafe searched for my eyes with a soft smile, “i love you.”

i returned the smile, “i love you too.”

he then got up to his feet, reaching his hand down to help me stand. after a few more kisses and a hug, he took me to his truck. we drove around with no particular destination in mind but with the sole purpose of being by ourselves without prying eyes and judging remarks.

i hoped deep down that i wasn’t making a mistake and that everything would be ok.

and as if on cue, “everything is going to be ok.” i turned my head in surprise at his words.

“don’t act so shocked, kid. i know you better than i know myself.” he then lifted my hand again and kissed it like he’d done on the boardwalk.

i chuckled and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. with the windows down, the ocean breeze, his hand drawing circles on the back of mine, and the soft music playing, i felt myself float away.

“sleep, angel. i love you.”

and then i woke up.

JK JK IT’S NOT A DREAM.

or is it? HEHEHEHEHE

ALSO WHY IS SHE SO CODEPENDENT??? LIKE GIRL STAND UP (says the one who wrote her 👯‍♀️)

anywayyyy, if you made it this far THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU!!!

please feel free to write comments or whatever, i love talking to you all 💞

and if you liked this check out my other stories!!

im currently writing a murder mystery kind of story and i only have two chapters for now, but i will make flashbacks with like text messages and diary entries and stuff. i’m trying to make it as if the reader is part of the investigation (I HOPE IM DOING A GOOD JOB) and i already have how i want the story to end but writing it is the hard part. like how long do i make it?? i don’t want to rush it but i really want to finish it because the characters take a mind of their own when i write. does that make sense? prob not lol

div creds!!- by @anitalenia

[lady-of-moths]

Period Comfort HCs - Buddha

A small gift for @buddhascandy , with thanks for the prompt, and getting me to write this! Enjoy 😘

Word count: 483

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

- First of all, Buddha knows how periods work. He won't expect you to "just hold it in" or other nonsense like that.

- He never asks if you're on your period or something when you get pissy at him as a way to shut you up. He's way better than that.

- Buddha understands that it's rough, and you're in pain. He can also imagine that being in near constant pain for days on end can thin your patience and shorten your fuse. He doesn't blame you. He'd probably be cranky too if he were in your shoes.

- He never puts you down for it. He won't tell you that you're being dramatic, or irrational because of it.

- Buddha would care for you by doing small things for you, like making you tea, or bringing you a water bottle or a blanket, or giving you a massage.

- If you don't wanna go out, and would rather laze on the couch, he's down. He'll bring snacks and blankies.

- He'll probably eat most of the snacks himself, though, but will get you more if you ask him to.

- Might give you some push back on the films you pick, but will usually give in pretty quickly, as he remembers that you're having it tough enough already.

- That having been said, Buddha will also not pamper you like you're helpless. He'll try to ease your pain and make you more comfortable, but will not put up with what he may consider unreasonable demands. We all know that he does as he pleases, which may at times stir a bit of a face off.

- I think we all know what it's like to get cranky over nothing during those days. Buddha isn't too fussed about it, and will toss little chocolates at you, simultaneously providing you with chocolate, while also pissing you off for a laugh.

- But he's Buddha, and you love him, so you could never stay mad at him for long, especially not when you look down and realise he's been tossing your favourite chocolates at you.

- He'll urge you on to eat your chocolates, since sugar is a painkiller.

- He'll tell you jokes and stories, whether from his life on Earth or things that have been happenning around in Valhalla while you were resting, to try to distract you from your pain.

- When your cramps are particularly bad, he'll recommand you do breathing exercises, and offer to meditate with you, or guide a meditation for you.

- Being in pain, you'll try to tell him exactly where to shove his breathing excercises and meditation, before another wave of cramps hits you like a train, and you concede to give it a try.

- You end up falling asleep, as Buddha smiles down at you, and gently brushes your hair out of your face. He'll tuck you in, and place a kiss on your forehead, before heading off and letting you rest.

[screechingfromthevoid]

I think Dorian knows Orym is in love with him. I don't think it is a great unknown. He's not biting his nails wondering if Orym feels the same way as him.

I think the problem is that Dorian doesn't know how to approach it at all. For so many reasons. There are so many reasons why Dorian has been keeping all of this close to his chest.

First and foremost I think he wants to be respectful of Will and the place he holds in Orym's heart. Dorian in no way would blame Orym for never moving on. He'd be sad and disappointed but he'd understand. And he understands that he's still mourning Will. So he doesn't want to initiate something Orym isn't ready for.

Second, they're in the middle of a war. There isn't time for this. There isn't time for dead brothers and profound crushes. How could he distract Orym from the world ending? He's their little tank. He's their tactician. He's can get his hard and throw it back just as easily. They need his head clear. And I don't think Dorian would ever forgive himself if something were to happen because Orym was too preoccupied.

Third, is speculative, with the context Robbie has given us, marrying a man would not go over well in the royal family. Not because they're particularly homophobic. But, assuming they're both cis, (headcanons aside, I don't think critical role is there yet), the blood line would end. And royal families are big on lines of succession. Hence Zeru begging Dorian to come back. So I'm not sure adopting is in the realm of possibilities. How could Dorian let Orym love him? How could he give into his feelings? How could they live happily ever after when Dorian needs to go back home? Sit on a throne? Produce an heir and a spare? He couldn't possibly start something with him only for it to end in tragedy. He couldn't do that to Oym.

There are probably more reasons for all this but these are the ones that swim in my head the most. And idk I think Dorian wants to love Orym loudly and proudly but... The world is ending, ya know?

[crustyfloor]

yaoisorrow3000's new song will probably be an elaboration on how he sees himself (in the present) and in turn, how he sees his relationship with Till, like Nowhere, which was more based on Ivan's "emotionally avoidant nature" ie. his passive reaction and nature regarding his life and his own misery, in the way of portraying his life unemotionally and as if it were just fact that he doesn't belong "In a life I don't deserve" "That's just how it is" "I become more numb" etc. Ivan's perception of himself is mainly self-deprecating and passive. And Nowhere was from the perspective of a (younger) Ivan who was perceiving his world before Till was ever really in it. As he's older, he's still living in this warped truth. So, considering the bug imagery, and in the caption - "A bug-like being that will not disappear even after death" , and emphasis on parasitic forms (that I like to think contributes to the look of his unnerving inner dialogue and the way he perceives himself as a person, like bugs are usually scary strange ugly, some people think they're useless, etc.)

I think it relates to how Ivan would reflect on himself and Till's relationship in this song, if that is what it will be about. Much like a bug/parasite that lives and thrives at the expense of others, Ivan thinks that he is a troublesome, hollow existence. Thinks that because he takes and takes any attention Till would give him, whether bad or good, and that he primarily relies on Till's presence to survive, so much so that he couldn't live with the prospect that he'd lose him, he was acting inherently selfish, greedy. Ivan doesn't desire Till because he feels entitled to him; wanting is a selfish privilege he cannot readily afford to consider like others, such a privilege doesn't belong to a person like him. Till is a person in his life that he doesn't mind following in the background or mind being given whatever rations of what Till wants to give him, because this was always the role he was meant to play

Like a parasitic dynamic, Ivan didn't think Till benefited from their relationship, probably didn't even consider if Till saw them as anything, for that matter. (even though it's apparent that was because he misunderstood Till and himself, or what their relationship looked like). Ivan accepts the situation, yet incessantly takes whatever he can (like latching onto Till and passively feeding off of him) while "knowing" Till didn't care about him, while still desiring something more, In this way I also think the song might highlight the way Ivan both wanted to occupy a space in Till's mind, wanted to be important to him yet thought he wasn't and resolutely accepted it because he perceived himself as more of a burden.

He doesn't consider that his existence meant something to Till because he automatically concludes that nobody can understand or truly acknowledge him. Because of the way he attaches to Till and lingers, he sees Till more like a victim, because he acted selfishly, and for what happened in Cure. He must think that, because he thinks he's as insignificant to Till as a mere bug, he's absolving Till of blame and burden by assuming Till just won't care, like he did in his post-mortem comic. It must just be a fact, but he's wrong. Even after death, he occupies a space in Till's mind, and Till doesn't just move on and forget, Ivan still lingers and crawls around Till's mind (well, haunting, yeah)... Ivan's reign of yearning and self-deprecation never ends, I hope the song sounds as convoluted as Nowhere or vkei because its a good ass sound for such a theme..

[eruhamster]

I don't know how much this changed with the revision, but I was just thinking that I love how cagey Shi Qingxuan is about everything that happened that Xie Lian didn't witness. IMHO the worst part of MXTX's novels are when someone sits down and gives exposition that tends to ruin a lot of the story's whimsy, but that doesn't really exist for so much of what happened with Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan.

You don't get to know how exactly Shi Qingxuan's arm and leg ended up that way - just that He Xuan didn't do it other than the initial curse. You don't get to know the details of what happened when He Xuan dropped him off at the capital. You don't get to know how Shi Qingxuan's fan was broken, or what specifically happened to sap all his spiritual energy without the use of a shackle, you don't get to learn what those "confusing thoughts" were that Shi Qingxuan had when first saw the bloody social parade

There's so much to interpret there not just because you don't know, but because you don't get to know, even though Shi Qingxuan is so talkative and is the kind of person that just leaks his deepest traumas onto a man he knew for like a week, while the well-known mortal enemy of the heavens is sitting right beside them and listening in.

I love thinking about it. He Xuan is cagey but there's enough there that you can really pick apart and understand his anger and confliction and grief and jealousy; it's made really clear how much he wants to hate Shi Qingxuan but cannot, and how much he directly correlates Shi Qingxuan with his dead sister and dead fiancee, and how he honestly believes this is some kind of curse put upon his heart(his heart!! his heart, he says!!!!) by all the ghosts he's devoured to be powerful enough to take revenge.

But with Shi Qingxuan, there's so much in the fact that there's so little. He makes no mention of the broken fan. It's broken but atop him. He doesn't want it when Shi Wudu says he'll fix it. It is left with He Xuan, but ultimately He Xuan gives it back to him, fixed, and doesn't so much as ask for it back. I feel like the only explanation is that Shi Qingxuan broke it himself.

He doesn't cry about his spiritual energy being taken. He has to be tied to his bed to keep him from fucking off out of heaven afterward. He yells that he wants to just be a traveling cultivator. At the first opportunity, he does his damndest to stay hidden from even Xie Lian until he realizes he needs to assist him. He doesn't say why but I feel like the only reasoning here is that after he learned the truth, Shi Qingxuan, who loves justice and genuinely cares about the downtrodden, willingly ditched his godhood entirely and gave up all his spiritual energy because he knew it wasn't his.

For his broken limbs, he is very clear to Xie Lian that it wasn't He Xuan; he doesn't want someone wrongfully blamed. But he refuses to say what happened. But we know at the time around it would have happened, he was suicidal. He asked to be killed. He wanted to die. He would have probably told Xie Lian of it was from something stupid like tripping or forgetting that without spiritual energy, he can't make as great of leaps as before. But wouldn't he have nervously laughed it off if it was the remaining evidence of a botched suicide attempt?

I like to think about what the lack of details for an otherwise oversharing extrovert means. How much he started piecing together and when. What kind of direct communication he had with He Xuan without knowing it was Ming Yi, and how many of those 'so many chances' we didn't actually witness. All the serious, unfunny bits of his life that he'd rather scrape away because he prefers to be seen as an ever-smiling, silly optimist.

[dootznbootz]

Hot take: Eurylochus' death is sadder than Polites' death in Epic.

For one thing, we got to "know" him longer. He is in more songs. We got to see this friendship as it was and how it soured. There's a REASON why Eurylochus was his 2nd in command. He was smart and knew what he was most of the time. Most likely, they were fine in the war but the monsters and everything else in the Odyssey are very different from a battle among mortal men.

Odysseus calls him his brother. I don't know if Jay plans to have Eurylochus be Odysseus' brother-in-law like he is in the Odyssey, but regardless, that does add to it.

We get to see the fear Eurylochus has, we get to see his doubt. His struggle to believe that Odysseus, his captain and "brother", actually knew what he was doing. As Odysseus WAS attempting very scary things that they've never really done before. Was he wrong most of the time? Yes. But can you blame him if you look through his point of view?

In some ways, I think Eurylochus almost KNEW his fate. Someone has mentioned it on tumblr but the fact that Eurylochus was so skeptical about Aeolus' island but was suddenly fine with eating Helios' cattle, shows that he just...didn't really care anymore.

Maybe he hasn't since he opened the bag tbh. Odysseus never says he "forgives him" after he admits to doing it. Odysseus was always the one to go back for their friends, the fact that he's changed so dramatically probably terrified him. As they were friends, and what happened with Scylla is now how he "treats" his friends, what does that mean for Eurylochus? Odysseus never said that he forgives Eurylochus, especially after what happened with Scylla.

The crew's "you relied on wit, and then we died on it" is almost a "prophecy" as these men are still alive but they DO die very soon after this. Odysseus "relied on wit" in how he chose himself over them. It's a reach, but I think you could even say that Penelope is his "wit" in this decision. She is the reason why he chose himself over them because "I have to see her." me too, Ody

His "But we'll die" doesn't even sound too desperate. I think it was one last try despite him knowing that "You will never choose us" because Odysseus would choose Penelope over anyone and everyone (Telemachus being the only other person who he'd possibly choose over her. I mean she'd be pissed if he put her before their son.). He already knew that Odysseus would choose her, I think he wanted some sort of answer or response from Odysseus. Maybe even an "I'm sorry" or something but Odysseus understands what this means but that doesn't matter as he has to see Penelope again.

Whether Eurylochus' and by proxy, the crews', deaths were already fated like in the actual Odyssey or not, there's just something so sad about seeing this bond go sour and how it'll never get the chance for forgiveness or resolution. It's done.

[sfmothdaddy]

Brain rot I guess

Something was wrong with Johnny, Ghost could feel it in his bones. The usually bouncy and bubbly persona of his Sargent had been changed somehow. Sure the lad kept up with jokes, and the playful banter during missions... but something was off. He could feel the man eyes on him constantly, and often it looked like the man was going to say something to him but seemed to change his mind mid thought and shift to a safer topic.

Price had sent Johnny on a mission, a collaboration to bring in more information to take down Makarov, and Ghost couldn't help but feel.... something when he wasn't Johnny's overwatch, but that was neither here nor there. That was just life in the SAS for two Alphas who were good at their jobs. Still didn't mean Ghost couldn't have feelings about it.

Before this last mission, Johnny had gone down to records, something about an issue with some filing. Told Price he wouldn't miss anything, and he'd be right back. Price hadn't been bothered, probably because it was an issue the man found and Johnny just had to sign his life away again, nothing out of the ordinary, surely. When the lad returned he looked the same, had that pre mission determination on his face but to Ghost there was.... something behind his eyes he couldn't quite place.

"JOHNNY!" Ghost screamed, watching his body hit the floor after the gunshot, how could he fucking not. Everything around him happened in slow motion and so fast that he couldn't see at the same time. Bullets were fired as the building shook, Price had to physically push Ghost back out of the room and into cover as that snake slithered away and Johnny's body was burried under rubble. Somewhere Price was switching between barking orders and blaming himself, but Ghost.... Simon could do nothing but stare at the blood on his fingers. Odd that he'd never noticed before.

After immediate exfil, a team was sent back to retrieve Johnny's body. Ghost wanted to go but he wasn't cleared from medical, apparently he'd also been wounded but hadn't felt a thing. How could he? Price thundered into his room the next day, ranting about the higher ups, how they went over his head and Johnny had been cremated, against his last wishes, because there would have been too many questions from his family and it was "better this way". As the man paced, Ghost spoke up. "I want to do the notification if it wasn't done already. I need to.... I need to be the one to tell them." Price nodded, solemnly.

The next day in his dress uniform, both he and Price looked at the cute little cottage and knocked on the door. Idily Simon wondered why Johnny never talked about this place, sure he'd waxed poetic about some things from home, but never said a word about the cottage and attached farm. When the door opened a soft and sweet scent slid out and Simon had to halt the growl in the back of his throat. A woman blinked up at both of them, wearing one of Johnny's old PT shirts and a subtle swell at her stomach. He could feel the color drain from his face as Price cleared his throat. "Mrs McTavish?"

"Och, please I'm still getting used to that. You must be some of John's friends? Come in." He and Price shared a look as they stepped into the home that somehow smelt.... like everything Simon ever wanted.

"Ma'am we've..." Price started, tryingnto find the right words.

"A few days ago, during a mission Johnny was... fatally wounded. Ma'am I'm sorry, Johnny didn't make it." Her eyes laser locked with Simon, but something behind those eyes hardened, not collapsing into grief like he thought they would.

"Johnny's not dead." She shook her head, one hand sliding down over her slight bump. "He's alive."

"Ma'am... we were both there when it happened." Price tried again but she waved him off.

"You don't understand, he is alive no matter what you saw or think you know. I can feel he is alive. Our bond is still in place, I would have felt it break the moment he was dead."

"Bond?" Both Simons and Prices eyes slid up to her unmarked neck.

"Aye, we've been mated fer months, made it official our last cycle." Seemingly feeling their eyes on her neck she rolled her eyes. "We didn't go the traditional route for bites for a reason. But is still 'ave 'is mark on me." She pulled the hem of her shorts up just enough to show off a clear bite mark on her inner thigh. "Our relationship was never quite traditional the the common sense, we were much more... old school about some things."

Price and Simon exchanged glances, this changed things. Something behind Prices eyes turned stubborn and angry all at once. "We didn't know the lad was mated."

"Course you didn't." She waved the words away, "I'm private, and my job makes it hard for me to befriend many...Johnny was the exception. He didn't leave room for ya to say no to 'im." She sighed and sat heavily on the arm of the couch. "He was working up to it, I think. Wanted to invite you all round once this mess with Makarov was over."

Simon stiffened, she knew? "He wasn't supposed to disclose details about-"

Price was cut off when she laughed, "He didn't disclose shit. I'm in intelligence, I know who you are and your movements. I knew the mission brief before Johnny left here." With a soft groan she rubbed her temples. "This is gonna be so much fucking paperwork."

"Who do you work for?"

"I'm American, I work alongside your Kate Laswel, I'm sure she could verify, though I hadn't gotten around to changing my last name at work yet."

"Kate knew about this?"

"No? As far as I'm aware she had no idea of mine and Johnny's involvement went past me being his watcher once while she was in a briefing. As I said, Johnny made it impossible to resist. And while technically fraternization is frowned upon, I'm not SAS so before you try and throw that in my face, know that I'm three steps ahead of you."

She stood and paced behind the couch before pulling out a cell phone from a drawer and making a call. Her voice seemed to slide into something inky and dark, with a Russian lilt as she spoke. "Good morning Colonel, it seems a common enemy has taken something that belongs to me, and I want it back." There was a pause while someone spoke on the other end. "You tell that spineless coward that he has 48 hours to return him to me, or I will burn him and his empire to the ground. He will remember why I was given my name. And if I find out you and your men aided him, you will suffer the same fate. Am I clear? I will see my mate returned to me, or everything will be in flames and there will be nothing left of either of you to send to your families. Your skulls will adorn my wall."

The call ended, and Price blew out a breath. "Damn I miss flip phones and their satisfying ending to phone calls. Now I need to find gear that will fit my bump."

"We will find Johnny." Simon vowed but she shook her head.

"Your government covered this up, do you really think they would give you the authority to go out there and look for someone KIA? No, we both know it. However, I do have a reputation I can use and I will follow through with to get him back. He has a lot that he needs to answer for, including why he hadn't talked to you about me, but that was his one and only ask, that he handles it. So now I must retieve my wayward idiot and bring him home to do what I told him to do weeks ago. Just like a bloody man, make me do all the work."

[syndrossi]

Will the dynamics between Jon and Rhaegar change much in the Restoration AU when Rhaegar analyzes everything? He has to look at many events from a new angle (The way Jon reacts to the Trident/Baratheons, how Jon asked what Rhaegar would name him, how fiercely he protected him, etc.). Will he become more protective of Jon? Or will he feel Jon needs tenderness and comfort from him, especially after realizing the atmosphere Jon grew up in? And how will that change his relationship to W!Jon? Will W!Jon realize that one of his little brothers/uncles is trying to adopt him?

His determination grows to protect Jon as more of an equal (vs Jon's attempts to make it a one-sided thing), but at this point, they've known one another as brothers for two-plus years, so they're pretty settled in that dynamic. I expect Rhaegar is busily cataloging every trauma and little hurt, recontextualizing them and sort of triaging--which can he help with, how can he atone for what he suffered?

If you think about it, the situation is not entirely unlike Daemon's agony over not being there when the twins were little-little, except that it was nineteen years for Jon, rather than eight.

I could see Rhaegar struggling with wanting to blame his original counterpart a great deal for Jon's pain. How could he be so foolish in dealing with Aerys? How did he not know that their father would respond so poorly to anything unexpected? Did he not foresee the Vale fostering relationship forming the basis of a powerful alliance? What exactly were his plans for his existing family?

(The shock of what Tywin Lannister's forces did would really shake him, too. He remembers Joanna and his mother being close, and Tywin generally being supportive of him. That the man would orchestrate the violent murder of his future wife and their young child would be a harsh realization.)

And it's hard, because he doesn't have all the pieces to know why his future self acted as he did. (And canon!Rhaegar, or at least Jon's Rhaegar, wasn't Resonant!Rhaegar. Their experiences differed, with Resonant!Rhaegar explicitly a PTWP, which makes canon!Rhaegar similarly difficult to fully understand.)

In terms of what to do, at least with his Jon, Daemon's fathering is a pretty high-intensity beam of parental love, so that's not the issue, aka Jon doesn't need another father. His issue with mother figures is gonna be in much sharper relief, as well as the self-worth/self-sacrificial tendencies and what they're rooted in (believing himself to be a bastard, of lesser value than his trueborn siblings).

So again, he probably just tries to step up as a peer for his Jon, and offer to tell him anything he'd like to know about his childhood, to give him whatever glimpse he wants of og!Rhaegar to give him the closure he needs.

For Winterfell!Jon, he'll do more caretaker-ing, which W!Jon will find by turns adorable and bewildering, since they are both still very much in little-siblings territory for him, even if they're technically his uncles. I could see Rhaegar trying to figure out what he most needs and giving it to him.

(And Jon's fear of things happening to him will be even more clear. Before, there was the obvious "he lost siblings before, especially Robb, who was the same age." But the fact that he "lost" Rhaegar in some form before, and that that is a huge source of his fear, at least gives him something else to address.)

[lazysublimeengineer]

Reo and Isagi: An Intriguing Line Between Rivalry and Camaraderie

I was in the middle of doing something when I've received a notification from one of my long lost readers who decided to pop up into one of my stories again and left a feedback.

To my pleasant surprise it's one of ages ago finished fics of mine from this fandom. It's finished a long time ago and seeing someone reading it and leaving a review makes me think of these two characters again that fascinated me when I was starting to delve more into this franchise:

Reo and Isagi.

I remembered back then on how I was solely focused on Chigiri's character when I was reading the manga and watching the anime because of how mysterious he was and how he got one of the most enthralling yet tragic backstory in the franchise. But my attention was caught between these two during the second selection because probably it's one of the most dramatic things I've seen in the series. A lot of things had been happening in that period that's probably you can see in a normal conflicts of teenage boys.

I do admit at first that I didn't have any favorable impression of Reo and Nagi because of how arrogant they are and so full of themselves. I guess that's the quirks of being a naturally skilled and talented person. But anyway, the characterizations of these characters are being driven and push over the edge during the second selection. Seeing Reo displayed a multitude of warring emotions and thoughts when Nagi left to join Isagi's team is an interesting concept.

Because you have here is a rich, confident, smart kid who always makes strategic decisions in life except for his treasured friend and he loses his rationality and a storm of emotions has influenced his actions mostly throughout the second selection.

He was brooding and he's a lot more introspective in that period which is fascinating because we were given by the author another side of him which is in stark contrast to his usual affable and charismatic facade with other people.

A lot of things had been bothering him to say the least. But the highlight of his character was how he was conflicted with everything. He was angry with Nagi for leaving him. He developed a misplaced anger towards Isagi because he blamed him for splitting them apart. But most of all he was angry with himself for being weak and was always wondering if he wasn't weak then Nagi wouldn't leave him.

The way that the author had displayed his vulnerability makes him one of the most intriguing character because of how "human" he was. His brooding era became a running joke to the fandom when in reality his reaction is the usual reaction of a teenage, highschool person who felt betrayed by their friend leaving him for another person without any preamble or whatsoever.

The conversation between him and Isagi in the monitor room during chapter 96 has got to be one of the most memorable to me because of how sincere and honest it was but at the same time in the end you were left there wondering if they become friends at that point because as a reader you can't pinpoint it was.

They both have trouble picking a team which opened a can of worms between the two of them and how Reo was serenely downcast in his admission if he can still play alongside Nagi with him because he was getting further away from him in skills and talent inside the program. It was also interesting to note of Isagi's reaction towards it, of how he came to an understanding of him as a person and how he'd come to light with his own predicament and even thanking him in the end.

It was a simple but compelling scene between the two of them because of how it drives their character more towards the realization of each other's motivations and purpose in the program.

But the ambiguity of their relationship remains to be seen because you cannot categorized them as being too close with each other unlike with their other friends such as with Chigiri, Bachira Kunigami, Nagi etc.

And that's what's fascinating about these two.

They still oscillate between the lines of rivalry and camaraderie even now in the recent arc of the franchise.

It was painted in a subtle manner. It's not an overt rivalry or any sort of relationship that the reader can categorized easily and that's what it becomes an interest to a writer like me to explore it a bit more vividly during my early heydays in being an active writer between these two characters.

I remembered this reader asking me if I'm going to write for these two again and who knows?

Only time can tell if my Muse will be inspired enough to go back to their fascinating relationship with each other.

[aruanimess]

Aruani breakup au (canon, modern au, pre time skip, cadet days, post time skip WHATEVER)

Saying this cause I’ve started cooking smth right now😰

Oh, Gaia, thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to yap about this!!

So this is a scenario I've often daydreamt about but I didn't think had enough substance to work it into a fic.

Cadet years, but chiller. (Perhaps an Annie is originally from Paradis AU). The two of them start dating, but decide to keep it a secret until they're more confident in their relationship.

One month passes, then two, then three.

Armin is starting to get antsy. Surely, it's time for them to go public, right? But Annie hasn't brought anything up. Perhaps she's still uncertain about him? Is she doubting his feelings? Or worse! Is she doubting hers??

Amidst this uncertainty, he overhears a bunch of boys in the barracks talking about Annie. One guy from their group apparently has a crush on her and the others are urging him to go ask her out.

Armin is seething with anger.

He wouldn't have to put up with this if he and Annie were public. Or perhaps he would, but he'd be justified in telling the other guy off for making a move on his girlfriend. What right does Armin have on Annie now? None, that's what.

As he's stewing in his own juices, his jealousy-choked brain starts cooking up a plan. Before he even realises what he's doing, he sidles up to the group of boys and begins encouraging the guy to be bolder. "What's the worst that can happen?" he tells him, and "Maybe you should try your luck," and "She looks like she could use some company."

Slowly but surely the guy is convinced: tomorrow at lunchtime he will shoot his shot.

Armin goes to bed in a trance. A small part of his brain, one that's barely conscious, understands that he was overcome by jealousy and acted out by instinct. He realizes he should probably stop the guy before he embarrasses himself in front of everyone. Then another part of him, one that likes to dismiss his own abilities, reassures him that certainly what he said couldn't possibly have an effect. Surely, nothing will happen because of his words.

Little does he know, the very next day, the guy approaches Annie, makes a fool of himself in front of the entire mess hall and endures a particularly cold and very public rejection. The guy hangs his head and shuffles away, muttering something about being misled by a fucking nerd.

Then Annie is at Armin's table, hovering awkwardly and dangerously between Eren and Mikasa's seats. Armin doesn't even have time to say 'hi'.

"Did you have something to do with this?" she asks.

Eren and Mikasa turn to look at her, confused. Armin speaks, halting the beginning of a protest that's about to fall from Eren's lip.

"Annie, I can explain."

She stiffens. "No need."

"No, Annie, please!"

"I get it." Her eyes are lowered, doleful. "You felt threatened."

"I-" he gulps. "Yes..."

"You doubted me."

"N- no... Annie..."

Her blank expression crumbles. "You always do this, Armin. You never trust me." Then she composes herself. "I don't blame you."

Armin's stomach is sick. How could she fault herself for his own stupid insecurities? He's been so foolish, so self-absorbed. Had she wanted to reveal their relationship all this time and thought he was the reluctant one?

"No, Annie, you've got this all wrong..."

But it's too late.

She turns her back to him. "Don't come after me. This was a mistake," she says and walks away.

[d3adbr3inc3lls]

Can I please request headcanons with Friede x Ace/Aro spectrum Reader? Maybe throw in a li'l bit of angst in there.

-Lunar anon

Friede x Aro/Ace!Reader

A/N: Welcome Lunar anon !! Ngl I decided to make this a highschool AU (not because I'm obsessed w/ them, but because it's just easier for me),

Ngl this gets angsty towards the end,

You and Friede have been friends for ages,

And for 2 of those years, Friede has been hopelessly in love with you.

Who could blame him? You had an amazing personality, you were nice to people, yet you knew how to stand up for yourself when you needed to.

When the two of you later became roomates he was overjoyed, not only can he spend time with his close friend and crush, but it would be easier for the two of you could study or train together !

It wasn't hard for his feelings to grow, the two of you living in the same place and doing activities together helped grow his feelings.

Ultimately he wanted to confess.

He was sure you felt the same- you were comfortable with his hugs that came out of nowhere and his general clingy-ish behaviour (which usually made itself clear when he was tired)

But then you came out to him as aro/ace,

He was pretty suprised, sure he was a bit heartbroken and hurt, but he respected you, you were his best friend and the least he could do is not make you uncomfortable by confessing.

Definitely began to sit a bit further away from you,

He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable,

Probably distances himself a bit more,

To you, your best friend is starting to push you away and you don't know what happened or what you possibly may have done.

You know he's supportive of you and doesn't really care that you're aro/ace (you aren't being weird kids or pokémon, so it's okay in his eyes).

But to him, he's trying to hide his feelings for you.

In the end, it helps, but at what cost,? It has dented your friendship,

And explaining it would feel pathetic,

What would he say,?

"Sorry I pushed you away, I was so hopelessly inlove with you and I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable"??

Either way, he 'fesses up sooner or later,

If you don't forgive him, that's fine, he understands that. He wouldn't forgive himself either.

If you forgive him, he'd be pretty happy and would like to resume the friendship if it's possible,

It wouldn't be as awkward as he doesn't have feelings for you, (sure there might still be something there, but it's not as strong as it was before).

Ngl Friede gives me the vibes that he'd be the type of dude who'd find out abt his crush on someone last. Like, everyone will know he has a crush on x, but him. And probably x.

[monsterlore]

"I hate it. I fucking hate it."

Those hands. Grim wanted them… gone, destroyed. No— how dare they masquerade as his hands? They weren't actual hands, they were just scraps of metal and plastic. No flesh, no blood, no nerves—nothing. Just the physical manifestation of a lie. Why did he have to wear them? Why couldn't… a miracle have happened, and LB's Medi Gun actually managed to make his hands grow back? He had to put up with trash at the end of his nubs, just to function in everyday life.

First Jun's, then Syl's robot hands. His teammates weren't to blame for anything—they were just helping with something they should be helping with. Grim knows he can't actually live without hands, wriggling like a lonely worm in a world made for opposable thumbs. But, just… why?

Grim had felt Syl pressing against him, but only now realized he'd been quietly weeping with him. His partner really did feel others' emotions, like a sixth sense. Grim wanted to comfort him, giving him any non-touching equivalent of a hug. This was his fault…

Syl turned the TV off. The couple got up and headed for their bedroom; probably a better place to cry.

On the mattress, with the moon watching over them—Syl hugged Grim, and he didn't hug her back because that's what she liked.

"I got you."

"I know."

"It feels wrong, doesn't it?" Syl stated, and Grim couldn't agree more. "They work, but they're… wrong."

The Soldier felt like he hadn't even said anything, done anything. Yet here Syl was, practically in his mind, capable of untangling his own thoughts and making complete sentences out of them. A part of Grim wanted to fear being so vulnerable… but Syl was giving him the freedom to do that. He just wanted to enjoy this sense of relief, finally. His emotions over this hands thing were so stupid for existing… it's probably still good to cry about it now, rather than later.

Just as Grim thought that Syl had already done the best to help him, she acknowledged one more of his own dark thoughts: "Nothing will replace your hands, Grim. Nothing."

He crumbled. He wept. He let it all out because there was nothing left to keep it in.

Nobody's validated him like that.

Grim himself didn't quite understand, is that truly all that this was? He just hates his fake hands? He hates that he became disabled? And his partner found words so negative, that comforted him like never before. What was this… finding closure?

Syl hugged and caressed him, and never once let him go. Then Grim let her undress him, and she reached for the sleeves that held his prosthetics in place. She started to take one off, the partners gazing into each other's eyes in understanding.

Finally, both metal hands were off. Grim's forearms ended in scarred bulbs. Syl reached for them, and Grim whimpered. It was the first time… she tried again, gentler, somehow even more loving than she's been this entire time.

It was the first time… obviously not the first time getting touched in general, but actually getting touched just for intimacy, just to tell Grim, You're not crazy for feeling this way.

They kissed and hugged. Syl never let go of his partner's real hands. That's exactly what they were doing—holding hands. Grim's just hid under assistive devices so he can be independent during the day, but now they know. He doesn't have to like them. He doesn't have to compliment or express gratitude for them. All he has to do is use them. Their creator understood him—he needed some space to be angry, to care that he'd lost something he never should've lost.

Grim melted into Syl's arms. He was so happy, so thankful. How could I ever repay him? was his question for another time, as he relaxed completely and drifted off to sleep.

Pages are just from the last batch :)