#I think this is very interesting (and I do think it makes sense) in the context of what happened to Baiheng

[mendaxmultorum]

this makes a lot of sense actually. i think i am just privileged to be with someone kinder or more flexible than that or whatever others normally experience. certainly a different vibe, both coming from abusive past lives and family who tried squashing our queerness. its something weve grown to embrace together and appreciate, and are still learning a lot every day. and we have a bond we formed under a lot of heat and pressure, a dense core of previous codependency that is blossoming into individuality and self sufficiency. i am absolutely certain in 5 years we will be different people and have grown in strange and differing directions. i am also absolutely certain that we are much different people both fundamentally and growth wise than when we met or got together or got engaged. and weve made it work very well.

it makes sense that perhaps i am lucky, or a special case, or just more willing to put in the effort than some others would be in my situation. it just gets very frustrating personally to see people say these things when it has been nothing but wonderful to me. but i suppose im not the target audience of these posts, and people who have cautioned me personally were looking out for my best interests, because devoid of full context it is a big red flag. i dont regret ignoring them, but i do understand their perspective and the kindness they were trying to do me. thank you for elaborating!

the idea of a 21 year old being engaged is so scary. stay safe dont do that do yourself

[mona-risms]

Hear me out: Huntrix gals with a cat girl reader ( SFW + NSFW headcanons if possible! )

- 🐈‍⬛

There were three of these goddamn HAHA I'll only do SFW for this for now, if you don't mind 😝 I found myself typing a hell of a lot anyway 😭

Methinks they've all been kinda taught that any inhuman = a demon = must kill, with the exception probably being Rumi since she's been trained for longer so she'd have a more extensive knowledge compared to Mira and Zoey about what DOES count as demons beyond the patterns and what are the other types of spirits and supernaturals out there, but even then that's a stretch considering Celine's tutelage HA. So for them to see YOU, a foreign supernatural being? Oh their hackles are RAISED and so are their weapons

You better hope and pray you can sense them quick enough to back the Fuck up or else you're gonna have three sorts of glowing spirit blades all pointed at you and against your neck. The VERY first thing you get ask is the million dollar question aka how you don't have patterns when you're not human. You're gonna need to explain to them that you mean them no harm and you're NOT here to eat souls, honest to god you flew all the way from your country of origin to here, maybe to start living here or bc there was a concert you wanted to attend—bonus points if it's THEIRS lol. When either it kinda clicks to Rumi that like "oh wait. This one's actually fine" or they're convinced enough that you're not actually gonna do anything, embarrassment catches onto them REALLY quickly as they continuously apologise for Nearly ending your life 😭 esp if you flew over to see THEM 😭 like this is a HORRIBLE first impression they are So Sorry

Yk what though? It's fine!!! Because they wanna make it up to you, since they genuinely feel really bad (and Maybe they kinda maybe are a bit curious of you.....and your cat-like features........and Okay Maybe they think you're Kinda Really Cute but shhhhh those are just extras), so they do so with—drumroll please 🥁🥁🥁—a personal tour of Seoul!!! From the BEST places to eat (not just popular places but holes in the wall that they frequent to avoid the fans) to THE places to buy whatever you could ever want. They even take you to a spa at one point bc you CANNOT go through a vacation without relaxing to the max. You can try and keep telling them that no you Swear it's fine, you don't need them to do that, what the heck, but they INSIST!!! If anything, they say that you can tell them all about you and about being a cat girl supernatural bc they're SUPER curious

All of them are so very interested in you, but there are SPECIFIC reasons why they do individually. Rumi's interested in you because you're a new supernatural to her. It's always been "demons must DIE" her whole life, but then there's you. I think I've probably said it at some other post at some point, but her being essentially raised with spiritual awareness, compared to Zoey and Mira, meant becoming naturally curious of different supernatural beings for the sake of understanding them and the ways to kill them efficiently. That intent turns into actual childlike joy when she realises she can learn about you just because you are new and she wants to know about not just your species, but you in general

Zoey is interested in you because YOU ARE ADORABLE!!! OH MY GOD!!!!! The cat ears? The tail?? Depending on interpretation of the species you want to imagine, your other cat traits??? Oh my god. She KNOWS she fights impossible demons daily, but she's genuinely asking herself if she's dreaming (and asking Mira and Rumi to pinch her, which she IMMEDIATELY regrets bc while Rumi hesitated, Mira didn't LMAO). Get ready to be bombarded with less nerdy questions and more "how fluffy are your ears?" "Is your hair ALSO as fluffy as your fur?" "do you purr?" "CAN I PET YOU??????" please excuse her she's very excited. She most likely has seen art and stuff of catgirls (she def read Catulus Syndrome let's not lie) so getting to meet one and find out YOU'RE REAL? Bye she's so gone. The moment you conceal your features to appear more human, she actually pouts in disappointment (she's half joking about it)

Mira's interested in you not just bc you're cute as hell (she is NOT immune to it whatsoever oh gang she's like in level with Zoey, just much more subdued) but because of your abilities I think. Being the choreographer, you kinda end up getting a sense of things like how certain people move and such—she kinda has to, so that she can analyse and figure out what sort of moves to use for their music and what specific dances they can individually do to accentuate their different characters. This Does mean she'd be able to pick up your natural fluidity and balance with your movement as a cat girl, and she would ask you if you've danced or fought before (fighting is a different sort of dance, after all :3c). At some point she'll want to see you in action, but at first she'll just ask you stuff.. and maybe tease you more than twice when your cat features show your emotions and shit HAHA

Either way, congratulations, you now have THREE of the most internationally famous idols attached to YOUR hip. Try telling your people back home about that �� suddenly being a catgirl feels much more normal than this 😭

[sadwettennaintherain]

all jokes aside you’ve hit on the reason why a lot of this kind of fanart seems so melodramatic. in both Undertale and Deltarune when characters express sorrow or anger it tends to be reflected very subtly in the actual sprites and art, and i think this is probably on purpose, because it runs risk of looking really goofy in the game’s artstyle and undercutting the moment (Flowey is a big exception, again, probably on purpose). i love dramatic fanart, but i think making Kris express their feelings by a subtle turn of their head feels so much more right to me than something more bombastic

in this case i also think there’s just a lot of mixed emotions in this scene? Kris and Susie seem upset in this scene but i never got the sense they were like… infuriated or overcome with emotion? which apparently is kind of the popular opinion interpreting their reactions?? in particular with Susie i kind of got the impression that she was more concerned with everything that had just happened and what she had just learned and this was just… upsetting, but not the main thing she was thinking about. i got the sense she was just exhausted and exasperated lmao

the thing about TF’s very heavy “encourage the player to closely examine the game’s text to get the subtext” approach to writing is that it’s very effective and cool, but also i think it leads some players to get to attached to their theories and headcanons. there’s a huge population of players that believe that Susie is having a trauma reaction to seeing Toriel drunk because her own parents are alcoholic, and it’s like… well that’s an interesting theory, and i guess we’ll find out if that’s true or not in a few years, but until then it’s just a theory. we know nothing about Susie’s family. for all we know Susie is being raised by a single mother who loves her very much but has to constantly work and move to different cities to support her

i guess my feelings are that don’t want to downplay Susie and Kris’s negative reactions, but also trying to play them up for maximum drama is also doing a disservice to the characters? if that makes sense

i’m sorry guys, i have media literacy, i am well aware that two opposing moods can and should coexist in a scene, i still don’t think you’re ever going to convince me that it isn’t super corny to draw fanart of Kris with tears dramatically rolling down their cheeks while Sans and Toriel do a goofy little dance in the background

[to-the-beginning--the-end-waits]

Only Me

Summary: You’re starting to notice your best friend Yunho’s increasingly protective behavior; the daily tea deliveries, constant walking you to class, and his habit of scaring away any guy who dares to talk to you. You confront him about his possessive guard dog tendencies.

Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, College AU, Romantic Comedy, Fluff

Warnings: Possessive behavior (mild), jealousy, college setting, best friends to lovers trope, intimidation tactics​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A/N: Short one before I kick-off the mafia series. I'm omw to my first literal holiday of the year so early update for today + I didn't check this one properly sorry for any mistakes.

====================================

You should have known something was up when Yunho started showing up to your morning classes with two cups of tea instead of his usual energy drink. You should have definitely known something was up when he began walking you to every single class, even the ones that were completely out of his way.

But the final straw? The final straw was when he scared away your study partner by looming behind you like a six foot tall guardian angel with a very intimidating scowl.

“Yunho,” you hiss, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him away from the poor guy who’d just wanted to review calculus notes with you. “What is wrong with you lately?”

His expression immediately shifts from intimidating to puppy like innocence. “Wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m perfectly normal.”

“Normal?” You gesture wildly at the space where your study partner had been sitting before he’d practically sprinted away. “You just death glared Kevin into another dimension!”

“His name is Kyle, actually,” Yunho corrects with a slight smirk.

“I don’t care if his name is Voldemort! You can’t keep doing this!”

Yunho’s face scrunches up adorably. “Doing what?”

You stare at him in disbelief. For someone so tall, he could be remarkably dense sometimes. “Following me everywhere! Bringing me tea every morning, which, by the way, is always exactly how I like it, which is suspicious, and glaring at any human being who dares to speak to me!”

“I don’t glare at everyone,” he protests, falling into step beside you as you start walking toward the library. “I didn’t glare at Mrs. Chen in the cafeteria yesterday.”

“Mrs. Chen is sixty five and married!”

“Exactly. Not a threat.”

You stop dead in your tracks. “Not a threat? Yunho, what are you talking about?”

His ears turn pink, and he suddenly becomes very interested in his shoelaces. “I just… I mean… you’re my best friend, right?”

“Right…”

“And best friends look out for each other, right?”

“Right…” You draw out the word, sensing there’s more to this.

“And you’re…” he gestures vaguely at you, his blush deepening, “you’re you, so obviously people are going to want to-”

“Want to what?”

“-steal you away from me!” he finishes in a rush, his voice cracking slightly on the last word.

You blink at him. Once. Twice. “Steal me away from you?”

“Yes! Like Kevin-”

“Kyle.”

“Kyle! He was definitely planning to ask you out after your study session. I could see it in his beady little eyes.”

“His eyes aren’t beady, Yunho. They’re actually quite nice.”

Yunho’s face goes through several complicated expressions before settling on something that looks suspiciously like a pout. “You noticed his eyes.”

“I notice everyone’s eyes. I noticed that Mrs. Chen has lovely hazel eyes too. Does that make her a threat now?”

“That’s different,” he grumbles.

You reach up and flick his forehead, making him yelp. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous! I’m being protective! There’s a difference!”

“Protective is making sure I get home safely after a night out. This is…” You wave your hands around, trying to find the right words. “This is like having a very tall, very attractive guard dog who thinks everyone is a burglar!”

Yunho’s pout deepens. “You think I’m attractive?”

“That’s what you got from that sentence?” But you feel your own cheeks warming. “The point is, you can’t keep scaring people away from me. What if I actually want to date someone someday?”

The look that crosses Yunho’s face is nothing short of tragic. “You want to date someone?”

“Hypothetically!”

“Who?” The word comes out sharper than you’ve ever heard him speak to you.

“No one! It was hypothetical, you giant possessive-” You stop, really looking at his face. At the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are a little too bright. “Yunho…”

“Forget it,” he says quickly, turning away. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous. I’ll stop bothering you-”

“Hey, no.” You grab his arm, surprised by how tense his muscles are. “You’re not bothering me. Well, okay, the scary guard dog thing is bothering me, but *you* don’t bother me. You could never bother me.”

He looks down at where your hand is wrapped around his forearm, and something in his expression shifts. “Really?”

“Really. You’re my best friend, Yu. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“And if someone asks you out?”

You study his face carefully. “Are we still talking hypothetically here?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Maybe not entirely.”

“Well,” you say slowly, “I guess that would depend on who’s asking.”

“And if it was someone you’ve known for years? Someone who brings you tea every morning and knows exactly what you like in your tea? Someone who walks you to class even when it makes him late for his own? Someone who maybe has been completely crazy about you for months but was too scared to say anything because he didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he’s ever had?”

Your heart does a little flip in your chest. “That’s… very specific.”

“I’m a specific kind of guy.”

You step closer to him, and his breath catches. “And if this hypothetical someone finally got the courage to actually ask me out instead of just scaring away the competition?”

“Then he would probably ask if you wanted to get dinner tonight. Somewhere nice. Like a date.”

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date. Because it would be a date.”

You pretend to consider this seriously. “And if I said yes?”

“Then he would probably be the happiest guy on campus. And also he might still glare at people who look at you too long, but he’d try to be more subtle about it.”

You laugh, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “You’re absolutely insane, you know that?”

“Insanely crazy about you,” he agrees, leaning into your touch.

“That was terrible.”

“But you’re smiling.”

“I’m always smiling when I’m with you, you possessive giant.”

His grin is so bright it could power the entire campus. “So is that a yes to dinner?”

“That’s a yes to dinner. But Yunho?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you want to ask me out, maybe just ask instead of becoming my self-appointed bodyguard?”

He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re impossible.”

He laughs and leans down to kiss you right there in front of the library, you can’t help but think that maybe having a possessive best friend isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Especially when he kisses like that.

THE END

====================================

[lover-of-mine]

Hi! Correct me if I'm wrong, but you've mentioned that Eddie's color is yellow, to Buck's blue. What do you think the lavender tank top means in that context?

Hi darling, I can't even begin to explain the frenzy this put me in sopkasokasask I was writing meta in my dreams last night lol

I hadn't considered this angle, because yes, purple is a complementary color to yellow, and this would be the first time we see Eddie in purple. And the show does use complementary colors, see the way Buck has a lot of red in his palette, and they use green to say something is wrong.

But that made me think about Buck and orange, since orange is the complementary color for blue, and I have been thinking about Buck and orange for a while, especially since it made a comeback during the fight in 817. I call orange Buck's therapy color, because it's a color he's wearing during his therapy session at the beginning of s4 but it's a color that's present when Buck is pushed to change, when he learns new stuff, and is forced to confront himself in ways he doesn't like to do a lot.

He starts and solves the lawsuit, he goes to therapy, he finds out about Daniel, he says the thing that makes Eddie tell him about the will and makes him confront who he is to Chris, and when he is forced to confront who he is as a partner to Eddie. And orange is a color about resilience and comfort, but it's also about headstrongness and being set in your ways, and I feel like it plays both with Buck's refusal to accept change and represents the thing that Buck graves, it's about Buck wanting stability but being stuck in his ways.

And looking at the lavender in this context is very interesting because lavender is about healing, renewal, self discovery. Which plays with the same concepts as the orange with Buck, but in the way Eddie needs them to be, mostly because most of what Eddie needs to change is about accepting things within himself, while with Buck it's about him coming to terms with the way the rest of the world affects him.

But when you look at lavender from "negative" point of view, lavender can be associated with a lack of urgency, taking your time with something you might not have time to waste on, and it plays with the overarching arc Eddie has of always being a little bit too late, assuming he will have more time. And that would make it play with the same stubbornness as the orange with Buck.

There's also the way lavender is also a color for the "hopelessly romantic" with the way it can be used for love and adoration to the point that lavender roses are about a sense of wonder or deep love and romance, some places even say it's about love at first sight, so it is historically tied to romance in a more naive way, bringing it back to the infinite possibilities of being in love with someone, finding magic in it and the vulnerability that comes with.

So it could play in the same space as Buck wanting stability with orange, and representing the thing Eddie craves, the magic of that acceptance.

I also think the shade plays with my ever-evolving theory that Eddie will play in light colors with his queer arc in the same way Buck plays in the darker one during his, to kinda mirror the whole situation, especially because Eddie has been in black A LOT since s7 began. Because Buck used to wear a lot of bright jewel tones, vibrant blues and reds, and his color palette was a lot more muted and darker since his bi arc.

And Eddie's palette is the earthy, darker, army tones, and I'm expecting to see that shift, and we have seen him in greys, and caramels, and sand tones during the episodes that have movement in his personal arc that add to that.

So yeah, looking at it this way, it could absolutely play with the blue and yellow of it all, but since we don't have any other moments where Eddie is in a shade of purple, it's hard to know for sure. But from a purely color theory point of view, this could be a very interesting choice for sure. I am very interested in the way the cooler undertone is gonna play out in the grand scheme of Eddie's color theory game.

[kakerutori]

The Airport Scene: What in the world is Mike going through?

Or, alternatively and gently with all the fondness in my heart, what the hell is up with Mike in the airport scene?

First and foremost, this is not a mockery of Mike. I just want to dissect the airport scene in season 4 because it’s been on my mind, lately, and Mike does such a good job at being unreadable that I’m still a little baffled, three years later. But I have some clues as to what is going on inside that head of his.

So we start with a dolly shot of Argyle, Jonathan, Will, and El. The four are placed in order of “familiarity” to Mike. I put “familiarity” in quotes because while it’s technically not true, narratively, that’s what we’re made to believe, here.

Look at the excitement on Will’s face!! It matches - if not exceeds - El’s excitement, which is adorable as much as it is absolutely painful.

El spots Mike first, and she waves him over.

Look at that grin on Mike’s face. Honestly, this reunion is cute, if not for the fact that Mike is wearing his glasses, for… some reason. 🧐 It’s almost like he doesn’t really want to look El in the eyes. Hm. 🧐 But beyond that, El is so sweet, here. She wraps both arms around Mike, and she’s now very clearly excited to see him.

But what does Mike do? “Careful, careful, you’re squishing your present!” he says, and then El sees that signature, and it’s not, “love, Mike.” Mike cares more about the integrity of his gift over El. Keep Mike’s special attention on gifts in mind.

El’s smile is instantly wiped away. (And side note, did you guys know that in this scene when Will approaches, he hops up to Mike? 😭 He’s literally bouncing on his toes. I will cry.)

And this is where things start to get a little weird. Once Mike removes his glasses, his eyes are revealed to hold this very vacant stare.

Not only that, but Mike continues to explain why his present is special to a very disinterested and fakely-smiling El. He doesn’t seem to take in El’s disapproving expression, at all. Also, when Mike remarks about there being “too much yellow,” that’s when the tag shows up, and the “from, Mike,” is apparent. He’s not understanding why this makes El upset, though, and he just moves on.

Is Mike tired? Jet lagged? Clueless? Or, perhaps, is he hyper aware that Will is right behind El? And another question that I still wonder to this day is, did Mike expect Will to meet him at the airport, too? I almost think that with all of his reactions, he was not mentally prepared to meet him there, perhaps.

And, so, the Byler “hug” happens:

Interestingly enough, in this moment, Mike is first to acknowledge Will, which blew my mind on rewatch. He gives that first, “oh, hey!” and clearly approaches Will, but then he seems to back out last minute, actively putting his arm around Will but then settling for some weak pats on his shoulder.

And thereafter, Mike doesn’t make eye contact. Will doesn’t either, but Will’s directionality makes sense. He’s disappointed that Mike didn’t return his enthusiasm, so he looks down. Mike, on the other hand, seems to purposefully look away from Will. He also doesn’t notice Will’s painting. My thought is that he noticed it and then avoided it for a split second to process it. The same guy who made sure his flowers weren’t being squished very likely saw that rolled-up painting in Will’s hand, too, right?

Oh, the pain. This scene is hard to watch, and I think for good reason! It’s meant to be uncomfortable, to show us that this is not how their reunion was supposed to be. The tension is sudden and unexpected, and the way that we linger on the both of their expressions shows that to the audience. And the fact is that it didn’t have to be this way, but Mike backed out of that embrace. It’s not Will who makes this awkward, but Mike.

Next is a really interesting sequence. Mike hasn’t acknowledged the painting, yet. And right after the awkward hug, Mike turns to Jonathan and greets him. No hug is initiated at all, they just kinda say hello. But then, without missing a beat…

“Uh, what’s that?”

Mike suddenly clocks the painting. This happens in a split second in the show. One second, he’s turned to Jonathan. The next, his focus is on Will, once more. Mike retains this blank expression, but his speech is pressured, here. The second that Will is done explaining, flustered and reconsidering giving it to Mike, Mike immediately says back, “cool,” like it’s nothing. Which, as we later see in the van scene, Mike does not think nothing of this painting! So why the blank face? What is this front that Mike is putting up?

Ultimately, I think that this scene was meant to show the difference between Mike’s intentional lack of a connection with Will compared to his genuine awkwardness and uncertainty with someone he truly doesn’t know, Argyle.

Look at these expressions that Mike has when he meets Argyle, and compare them to all of the ones he gives Will. With Argyle, ironically, to me, Mike looks a lot more relaxed. It looks like he’s trying to be and succeeding in being even-keeled. Mike doesn’t know Argyle, so he has no previous relationship with him that holds weight. He’s not tense because he’s nervous, he’s tense because it’s genuinely awkward, and Argyle brings him in for a “hug” without a clear indication of wanting to initiate one, unlike Will.

This tension is not because he and Argyle have a deeper relationship, it’s just Mike being a more true Mike without fear of losing something he has with the other person.

What hammers this in is the previous episode. Mike was just seen going around Hawkins High, trying to recruit dozens of strangers to Eddie’s campaign, many of which are obviously upper classmen, and Mike doesn’t seem to have an issue approaching them. He’s not nervous like he is with Will.

This brings up an answer to the question of why Mike seems on edge when Will explains the painting: Mike’s presuppositions and close, knowing relationship with Will. Because Will doesn’t immediately say that the painting is for Mike - which is probably what Mike expected - Will affirms Mike’s biased and false thought that Will equally is pushing him away, too. This helps to justify Mike’s cold behavior towards Will. But at the end of the day, Mike is the one putting up the barrier between himself and Will. He doesn’t let Will in. He treats Will just like he does Jonathan and Argyle: like a mere relative of his girlfriend and furthermore, a stranger.

This wedge is intentional and methodical. Mike never behaves like this for the rest of the show onward post apology scene in season 4 episode 4, 2 episodes after this airport scene.

It’s funny how Mike comes around once he recognizes that he and Will are better off as “best friends”, not strangers. What a leap in title-ship, and what a leap that again, Mike states, not Will.

So thus begs the question once more: what in the world is Mike going through?

Let’s look at the facts.

Mike starts to don a cold expression at the airport right before he meets Will.

Mike defuses Will’s excitement and does not match his energy (even though Mike clearly does still have regard and dare I say love for Will, see above), making Mike the cause of their awkwardness.

Mike recognizes the painting very suddenly, and he is quick to disregard it and evidently pretend to not care about it when he actually does care about it (see the entire van scene).

Mike is tense with Will, but not tense like how he is with Argyle, a stranger, but something much harsher and with much more effort to maintain.

A few days later, Mike proves to not truly be uncomfortable with Will but spontaneously returns to him and asks to be “best friends” again.

Notice how in all of the things that happen - and then become disproved - in the airport scene, Mike is the active proponent in every single equation. He puts up the front and breaks it down. He makes things awkward with Will and then continues to engage with him on his own. He pretends to feel nothing for the painting but then praises it in the van scene. He holds this extreme tension with Will and then dissolves it by once again approaching Will on his own accord. Mike is plainly hiding something in the airport scene. He’s dishonest about his lack of attention, and I think that Mike is actually more hyper-vigilant and aware of Will in the airport than we’ve ever seen Mike be aware of Will before.

Why? What is the reason? Something I didn’t bring up yet is, also, why would Mike suddenly be disinterested in Will’s art? In season 1, Mike lovingly caressed a binder of Will’s drawings when he went missing. Mike knows what Will is capable of, and he cherishes Will’s talent.

What changed?

That is the age old question, and I think that we’ve still yet to fully uncover it. I don’t know about you, but hidden romantic feelings seems to sum up his behavior pretty well. Maybe Mike assumed that Will got a girlfriend and they were going to go on a double date and he was going to shut Will out before he got too jealous. But that’s just a theory (a film theory)!

Byler is endgame. Mike is so intensely focused on Will all the time, it’s not even funny.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

i don't know if it's been asked before so forgive me but how poor do you think the weasleys are? are they more lower middle class? cause ron didn't get his broken wand replaced immediately in the second year but got a new broomstick in the fifth?

and on a related note do you think arthur weasley is selfish for not going for a higher paying job? " i assume it would depend on how well of they are and if the family's needs are met?"

looove all your posts btw keep up the good work.

First of all, thank you! 💕

The Weasleys and money are interesting for sure.

See, they have enough money to always have food and clothes (second-hand, but all kids are dressed, fed, and well cared for). They have a house with 6 bedrooms:

Master bedroom

Fred & George's room

Ginny's room

Ron's room

Bill's room (which Charlie uses too when he comes over)

Percy's room

And a very large yard:

The garden was large, and in Harry’s eyes, exactly what a garden should be. The Dursleys wouldn’t have liked it — there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting — but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.

(CoS, Ch3)

The Weasleys read like a family that used to have money. They have land, they have many cousins and aunts and uncles who seem to be living well. The parents don't act like they grew up lacking in anything. And even now that the money has dried up, they still don't live badly. They seem to be poor, not because Arthur's job doesn't pay enough, but because both Arthur and Molly have no idea how to budget or handle money. They both act like people who grew up with plenty of money they can throw around, and therefore, don't know how to save it.

The fact that they don't have money to replace Ron's wand is proof that they don't know how to handle money. The smart thing to do when you struggle economically is save up surplus money you don't immediately need when you have it, so you'll have emergency funds. You will put some money aside for future hard times, but the Weasleys don't do that:

I couldn’t believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it’s gone on this trip, but they’re going to buy me a new wand for next year.

(PoA, Ch1)

They win 700 galleons, spend 7 of them on a new wand for Ron and "most of it" on a long family trip to Egypt. Sure, I can understand wanting to visit Bill, but if they're strapped for cash, I'd expect they won't go all out on the trip, go for slightly cheaper lodging, or stay there for fewer days, maybe go to fewer restaurants — there are ways to go on a budget vacation. This economic decision makes no sense.

But what this shows us is that the Weasleys live paycheck to paycheck, not because Arthur isn't paid enough — they don't know how to save money.

Bill & Charlie don't live at home, and since CoS, all their other kids are at Hogwarts all year. The amount of money Arthur & Molly would need to pay for food during the year is much lower compared to when all their kids are there. So, I assume, they would have leftover money since they aren't feeding as many heads. Even since Bill & Charlie left home, they should have had more money to put aside, even just a few sickles a month, that, over time, can become a magnificent amount of money — and yet, they don't. Their vault is near empty when we see it.

They have land they can farm and sell products from (they have an orchard, they own):

“Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry,” said Ron. “Come on — three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play. . . . You can try out the Wronski Feint. . . .”

(GoF, Ch10)

He spent most of his days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys’ orchard

(HBP, Ch6)

They can rent out parts of their yard, and Arthur gets plenty of other perks from his job besides his salary (bribery):

“I like Ludo,” said Mr. Weasley mildly. “He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favor: His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble — a lawnmower with un- natural powers — I smoothed the whole thing over.”

(GoF, Ch5)

And seems to be well-connected within the Ministry. Enough that everyone important knows him by name, and he is in a position to write laws:

“Well, dear, I think you’ll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if — er — he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. . . . There’s a loophole in the law, you’ll find. . . . As long as he wasn’t intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn’t—” “Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren’t intending to fly!”

(CoS, Ch3)

Arthur's position in the ministry is clearly more influential than the books lead us to believe. (I have some headcanons about that, but that's maybe for a different post). They have avenues they can earn money from, and would reasonably be able to save at least a little every month, especially after Bill and Charlie left home. We see Fred and George can save up much more than the Weasleys seem to have over a few years without having a stable job like their dad:

“We’ll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts,” said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money [...] “Boys,” said Mr. Weasley under his breath, “I don’t want you betting. . . . That’s all your savings. . . . Your mother —”

(GoF, Ch7)

But the Weasleys have an empty bank vault:

Harry enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Weasleys’ vault, but felt dreadful, far worse than he had in Knockturn Alley, when it was opened. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon.

(CoS, Ch4)

This is a vault of people who don't know how to save money, but more than that, this, to me, looks like a vault of people who are used to operating in debt.

When they go shopping, Molly takes everything out of the vault:

Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag.

(CoS, Ch4)

And it's enough to buy everything 4 kids need for school for a whole year, btw. Sure, the robes are second-hand, but Harry always takes out a bunch of galleons. It's either everything is really cheap, way cheaper than it should be, and Harry carries around way too much money, or the Weasleys just always operate on debt.

As in, the single galleon is not have enough to actually buy everything, and Molly had to basically promise shops she'd pay them back later, basically paying with money she doesn't have. This could explain the Weasleys not having any emergency funds, since they're always running after various debts they owe.

And we know the Wizarding World allows people to make promises over debts, even the goblins:

A gang of them [goblins] cornered him [Bagman] in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn’t enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He’s lost everything gambling. Hasn’t got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?” “How?” said Harry. “He put a bet on you, mate,” said Fred. “Put a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins.”

(GoF, Ch37)

The goblins were willing to take Bagman's word he'd pay them back with his bet on Harry — it's very possible shops allow this too, especially if not everyone is carrying galleons everywhere. Say, even if you have money in your vault, but you only took out enough for X you wanted to buy, the shop could write your name down and what yoy owe for you to come by and pay them later (It makes sense for their society, that is very small and getting away with such a debt is hard and seems to be a very trusting of promises and other's words. The whole betting with Ludo thing was solely based on slips of paper and Bagman's word, so I can see something like this being common for them. After all, Wizarding Britain has the population of a very small town).

I still think they're bad with money, since, if debts are the problem, I'd use some of the 700 galleon prize money to get a headstart on that, but I think the Wealseys are comfortable living with a certain amount of debt. They're used to it.

As for the broom, that might've been on a day they got the salary/didn't have many debts to pay that month. The food at Grimmauld the summer before fifth year might not have been paid for by Arthur, which allowed them to have fewer debts and therefore the money for a broom.

At least, that's my headcanon/theory about it. They are poor not because of Arthur’s job, they could've made it work better — they are just bad at managing the funds and other resources at their disposal + got into a bunch of debts due to this tendency to not manage their funds properly.

[stfrancisofinfidelity]

mel wouldn’t consider herself an especially jealous person. she knew that sometimes her very ambitious attitude towards life mixed with her adherence to rules often rubbed people the wrong way, making them think she’s stuck-up and rude. mel just knew she’d had to fight for her place in this world and she was going to continue doing so. she was aspiring to better things. she planned for the best case scenario. she saw what others had and went for it too, because she strived for the best for herself.

it confused her, then, when a new nurse was hired at PTMC and mel felt like her body was going to ignite into flames from jealousy. she was very pretty, dark black hair that shone like obsidian, olive skin littered with freckles, round cheeks that dimpled when she smiled. claire, the nurse, also seemed to be very… interested in langdon. on the rare occasion that both of them are in a lull between patients, claire would sniff out langdon before mel even got the chance and start chatting with him. from what mel’s overheard (she just stands close by! she’s not eavesdropping!) they talk about sports a lot. both of them like the same hockey and baseball team. they were also both student athletes and the youngest sibling. basically, the two of them got along great.

when mel was little, she was used to sharing everything with becca. whether she liked it or not. it wasn’t until adulthood that mel really got anything of her own. frank, her mind screamed at her, was her’s. he belonged to mel. it was like she was a puppy and she hadn’t been trained out of resource guarding. so, mel did what she always did, and fought for her way back to frank’s side (to be transparent, mel had never lost her place as frank’s favorite. he still called on her for every trauma, hovered near the door of whatever patient room she was in, asked her if she was okay about 5 times a shift).

some would maybe call it stalking, the way mel tracked frank’s smoke breaks, when he typically took his lunch, what sort of instagram reels he watched on break, the gum he chewed, the redbull flavors he liked, but mel considered herself proactive. she didn’t care if she looked pushy when she walked out to the ambulance bay any time he went to smoke or sat right next to him in the break room to eat her lunch, mel was more focused on making sure everyone knew that frank liked her the best. claire would join them for lunch sometimes and mel guiltily reveled in how easily she could win back frank’s attention.

claire didn’t seem to deterred by mel, evident by how at the end of one of their shifts, claire pulled her aside to ask if frank was single. frank was single. he’d been divorced for about 6 months at that point and had confided in mel that he felt nervous about dating again, so much baggage attached to him that he didn’t want to load onto another person. mel could’ve easily said to claire, “yes, but hes not really interested in dating right now.” but instead, that angry green monster inside her decided to speak instead.

“he’s actually seeing someone right now. me. frank’s dating me.” a lie. a bold-faced lie. claire’s eyes widened and she flushed like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry! i had no idea. that makes so much sense, y’all are so cute.” mel waved her off, giggling like this was mistake that had been made before, like she was constantly fighting women off her boyfriend. claire left mel alone at the lockers to finish grabbing her things when mel heard a thump against the locker next to hers, the body responsible hidden from her view.

“so, we’re going out now?” of course it was frank. mel felt her body lock up in shock, a series of unintelligible noises squeezed out of her mouth. frank just closed the door to her locker, leaning down to look directly into her eyes.

“well, come on, sweetheart. what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t drive you home?” he had a disgustingly smug smirk on his face, light bouncing in his eyes at mel’s frazzled appearance.

“o-only if you stop to get becca and i ice cream. it’s sundae sunday.” he laughed at her, shaking his head.

“of course, we can even stop and eat inside.” mel nodded her head, already planning what kind of ice cream she’d get (her usual, one scoop of coffee, one scoop of cookie dough with whipped cream and dark chocolate flakes. frank would get two scoops of butter pecan with hot fudge and heath bar). frank slipped his hand in hers and practically dragged her to his car.

[goomyloid]

there's been a lot of anti kriselle sentiment going around lately (now that The Youtube Let's Players™️ are finishing chapter 3) so i just wanted to remind you - and whoever else needs to hear this - that cringe is dead and darkships/comships are made to be fascinating character studies, not a test of your irl morality

keep being you ❄️♥️

thanks! i think people should be able to explore what they want generally. although i dont really know what comships or darkships are and i think ive only ever seen them be used on tiktok (which i outright refuse to use most of the time) so im unfortunately inclined to believe theyre more made-up terms to put ships into even more weird categories out of some attempt to stay Morally Correct (in a performative way where it doesnt actually mean anything. i put it this way because i kind of got sucked into this ideal when i was like 16 but more in a Problematic Media sense than actual ships) (boring goomy lore no one asked for)

idk if it needs to be said but generally all my pages are pretty Proship DNI, mostly because if i have a say in it, i would rather not interact with people who like pedophilia/incest/etc. sure fiction ISNT reality but it certainly can have an effect on it and act as a reflection of it, at least imo. but like again, im just not interested in interacting with proshippers, im not gonna go around policing ships or something because 1. i dont have that kind of time or energy and 2. it clearly doesnt work (proof: all the people coming at me for drawing the Evil Toxic Kriselle and me only being reaffirmed in my desire to draw it). if i see something i dont like, 99% of the time i just ignore it and/or mald over it in private

said strategy of Ignoring and Moving On when you dont like something is very good and saves a lot of stress. i dont particularly like kralsei all that much, but i dont have a problem with anyone who does like it either, so whenever i see it im just like Neat and i keep scrolling. (i choose to believe that if toby wanted ralsei to be a legitimate stand-in for asriel somehow he would have made it super duper clear by now, and i also choose to believe that most kralsei enjoyers do not think that ralsei and asriel are very similar or meant to directly reflect each other) (i.e. i like to believe most people are normal. i enjoy giving the benefit of the doubt)

that was a massive tangent sorry, but i guess what im getting at is there’s a particular line between exploring a “darker” ship for the sake of analyzing the characters and story and exploring it to achieve self gratification (whether it be sexual or otherwise, but usually sexual). for example, with weird route kriselle, a lot of the appeal of it to me isn’t the romance within the abuse (although its interesting to dissect sometimes) but rather the romance despite the abuse if that makes sense. its the kind of thing only achievable with both parties being victims of the third party’s abuse, rather than just one partner abusing the other. its because kris and noelle are both victims that makes it so interesting, but a lot of people still tend to overlook kris’s victimization. even with their bathroom crashout in ch4, lots of people still view kris as a surface level abuser without taking a moment to really think about how they feel.

i feel like all of this is worth explaining because there are certainly people who “explore” the ship rather distastefully. lately that tends to involve turning the SA undertones into something to be fetishized and trying to make implied abuse/assault into something Sexy or pornographic. i feel like its unfortunately a common thing for artists’ intentions to be overlooked in favor of categorizing all portrayals of a particular idea under the same umbrella. there could be two drawings both depicting a sensitive scene/idea, where one might come from a place of sorrow, understanding, maybe even relating to the events taking place, while the other is clearly voyeuristic in nature and looks like it belongs on r34 instead of tumblr. the line isnt always that clear, and you cant always tell simply by how it’s drawn, sometimes the nature of the piece could be neither of these things or maybe it could somehow be both, who knows. It depends. It really fucking depends i think

ANYWAY im almost done sorry. i just wanted to add on that when we put these characters in Situations, obviously they’re not real and no one’s getting hurt (in theory), but what you choose to draw and create does reflect who you are as a person on some level. there’s pieces of yourself in everything you make, after all. thats a reason i myself feel like i need to be careful about what i make just in general, not because im Secretly Weird but just because i dont WANT to come off as weird by random passersby who wont take a minute to think about my work… which i guess returns to your original point. none of this is directed at you in particular anon, i just wanted to use your ask as an excuse to get some thoughts out, lol

[symphonyofsilence]

Okay so somethings about Asagiri's latest very interesting Q&A.

This makes Chuuya drinking after Dazai left and even him saying that he KNEW it was Dazai who blew up his car even sadder because he must have desperately clinged to the hope that it must have been Dazai who blew up his car so he must be alive somewhere while in the back of his mind he had already accepted that Dazai's dead. And seeing it from Chuuya's perspective, Oda was dead, so it made sense that Dazai would off himself. (It's even sadder if you take that Wan chapter about Chuuya always finding Dazai wherever he was into account. Because if Chuuya couldn't find him, then he was nowhere to be found.)

And really, fuck Dazai for not even texting Chuuya about his departure. That little shit. Chuuya is so forgiving I swear!

But also!

At the end of the Dark Era Light Novel Mori left Dazai's seat among the executives empty hoping that one day Dazai will come back to take it. Did Chuuya not know why Dazai's seat was left empty or did he assume that Mori's in denial and has gone off the rail with grief? Did Mori and Chuuya not talk about Dazai for four years (because it's very unlikely that Mori didn't know where Dazai was especially with Ango cleaning Dazai's criminal records)? Or did they have the worst case of miscommunication like Mori saying "Dazai's gone." And Chuuya thinking :"oh, no that bastard has really done it..." and then Chuuya talking about the seat Mori has left empty for Dazai saying :"boss, it's time for you to accept the truth." And Mori thinking that Chuuya is talking about Dazai never coming back to PM and being like :"oh, give it some time. He might still come back someday." And Chuuya thinking:"oh, no he's completely lost it."

Didn't he say in "Dazai, Chuuya, age 15" that Dazai wasn't an orphan?

Do you think that Mori and Yosano will have some kind of an arc down the line to resolve what went on between them? Not only Yosano, but Mori's also not over it. Judging by how he's characterized Elise after child Yosano to pamper Elise and soothe his conscience about how he treated Yosano. In Beast where he became the director of Atsushi's orphanage and finally had the chance to take care of real children to atone, Elise was a grown woman. As though Mori had got over his his baggages too. (And the character of Elise in Mori Ougai's "the dancing girl" is also a guilt and regret that the MC will always carry with him.)

[byeashhh]

please enjoy another soft moment with creature V ! let's pretend like this takes place after the last fic (you can read here ! - part 1 / alternate ending) ♡ i am perhaps very interested in creating a full length fic on perhaps here or ao3.. if anyone would be interested in that ?? idk.. leave your suggestions pls ♡ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ he doesn’t knock. he’s never learned how.

instead, he just appears — half-shrouded in your bedroom doorway, moonlight clinging to the torn edges of his robes and the curve of those long, clawed fingers. he hovers like he’s unsure. like he doesn’t intend to haunt your threshold, but doesn’t quite know how to cross it either.

“…may i?” he asks, voice crackling at the edges, like dry leaves underfoot. he always asks, even though you never say no.

he walks like a creature that used to fly — hunched slightly, moving with cautious grace, like he’s still learning the ground. his feet make no sound across your floor. just the soft, papery shuffle of his wings dragging faintly behind him — leathery, bruised velvet, curled in close so as not to knock over your lamp again like last time.

he perches at the edge of your bed like he’s not sure he belongs in it. claws curled into the blanket. hunched shoulders. glowing eyes casting soft reflections on the wall. his voice is low. “i… would like to stay. if you’ll let me.”

and of course you do. because how could you not?

his body is strange in the way all divine things are — too many seams, too many bones. you can feel the tension vibrating just under his skin, like he's holding back something instinctive. ancient. animal.

but he tries.

he tries so hard to fold himself small. to rest beside you without coiling protectively around your body like some hoarding thing. to speak softly. to breathe gently even when you’re this close — your scent all over his senses, heartbeat loud against his ribs.

“you smell…” he pauses, stiffens, brow furrowed with confusion. “warm. not just… skin-warm. but… safe.”

you blink. and then smile. and you think he might short-circuit from the way your hand gently brushes over the place where wing meets spine.

a puff of breath escapes him. something between a growl and a shudder. his fangs flash for half a second before he turns his head — ashamed of the reaction.

“…sorry,” he rasps. “it’s difficult. you… touch like someone i would like to keep as... my own.”

you freeze.

he doesn’t mean to say it. doesn’t know he said it aloud until he sees your face.

his wings twitch, feathers fluttering as he tries to backtrack. “i didn’t mean— no. i— that is—” his claws dig into the sheets. “i only meant— you’re… soft. and when you are near i—”

he hisses under his breath, jaw flexing tight.

“i want to keep you. fuck. i want to— to cover you with myself. fill my entire existence with your scent. leave marks. make it known. and i—”

he buries his face in his arm, wings cocooning around him in shame.

you reach for him gently.

and he trembles when you touch his cheek. claws flexing once — restraint — before he nuzzles slow into your palm.

“…i do not know how to be this and still be kind,” he whispers. “but i want to try. for you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[missedloveletter]

🩷•RenXreader•🩷

14 day with you

Summery: Ren with a Lover that likes dark alt fashion (this is written from the perspective of the darling not being dark Alt but does not dis include the possibility of the reader being of darker Alt fashion)

Character:Ren.....duh

Warnings: (This has no NSFW and is a soft post but it is still an 18+ game....so....be of age)/none

He would find out on a random Tuesday by you discussing just things you find attractive on a person. You probably wouldn't think anything of it, bring up your like for piercings didn't seem shocking to you but to Ren....it was revolutionary.

With your definite crush on Haruko he would have never thought that you would fancy anything that would lean into a more alternative appearance.

He would definitely be ecstatic but also very overwhelmed. He wouldn't know what to do with this new information and how he would bring up having piercings never mind the tattoos. Should he say that he just got them or should he fess up that he had them the whole time. With time he would at some point bringing up his snake bites and ear piercings by making up an excuse they somehow got in the way at work or had a dress code and just never thought to brought it up.

You of course would want to see him in them. at first he would be extremely self-conscious worried that you would find him less attractive with piercings and it would take a lot of convincing to get him to put them in.

But the moment he put them in.... You were flabbergasted.... You of course first flabbergasted by Ren.. the one that you knew having piercings but him looking so good in them... You were shocked.... And super into it.

Ren would be shocked by your new interest and attraction but would totally eat it up. He would slowly fall into his ordinary fashion.slowy wearing darker colors then making his way to the jewelry then finally falling into the actual alt aesthetic/style fully ,Along with at one point or another if you showed interest in tattoos would reveal his.

he would still very much stick to his persona...or well good boy act even with his darker sense of fashion because even though he's more confident in his physical appearance and your attraction to him and how he likes to a present himself doesn't mean he feels confident in his personality. For one you fell in love with the version of himself he portrayed to you, so he can't just change that and I would say he love being all loving a needy and sweet to you....(For you it isn't really a persona... It's when he has to show that to the whole world)

Also....

He was crazy and if you know you know.... And if you don't.... You might not want to.

In short he would still be his loving golden retriever self.

He would grow out his hair where he has his ruts show. He still likes his colored tips but growing out his roots make some fall more into the alternative appearance and it's just easier not worrying about re-doing his color.

...He would totally get a tattoo of your name or something that he believes represents you.

He just....loves you and knowing you like his as he is .....only feeds more into his OBSESSION ...love.💕

[anartificialsatellite]

I'm not extremely knowledgeable about horror tropes or the history of pop culture zombies and I'm sure smarter and more knowledgeable people have already written heaps about this in better ways than I could, but I'm tapping out these thoughts on my shitposting blog and so I hope you can forgive my lack of scholarship on the subject--

I know there's a oft-repeated argument that the cultural love for zombie movies and themes is linked to a societal fear of immigrants and immigration and you know, I admit I haven't done much research on the subject and so don't know where that comes from, but I'm sure there's probably some good research and arguments behind that. I'm not a sociologist or whoever would do that research, but it makes sense on a few levels when looking at what characterizes the genre of zombie horror.

There's something there within the popular modern concept of "zombies," that at the core of it is this fear of your friends and neighbors suddenly turning on you without warning and all you know and love no longer being safe. Of course we can see how this ties very well into the previously mentioned theory when looking at it from the perspective of the privileged in society, when considering it among the type of right-wing survivalist-prepper the queers and blacks and jews and immigrants are coming to destroy my way of life kinda shit that is so popular in certain spaces and becoming more and more pervasive in subtle and overt ways in our media, it makes sense how these concepts align.

But turning to look at it from a different perspective it becomes something else? The fear of your friends and neighbors turning on you without warning, the fear and terror of realizing that the threat is not from outside but within, that the threat is not something different and unrecognizable but rather something you do recognize, and in fact is everything you recognize and yet it is still going to destroy you and there is nowhere that is safe, is a very different thing from the perspective of people who do not share the same position or perspective in society as the type of like... right-wing white masculine power fantasy of defending one's home and family from the rampaging hordes shit that is commonly associated with zombie horror.

Like, when considering zombie horror from this perspective it becomes less about the dehumanization of the zombies and more about the dehumanization of the survivor character, the way in which they exist to the zombie horde as something only to be destroyed and devoured - pleading for one's life does nothing, having previously known and shared human experiences with them means nothing, there is no welcome in the places that were once safe, and the overwhelming numbers of the zombies means that the fight to survive is generally rewarded with more fighting and more fear.

I don't know where I was going with this? I guess I just wanted to say that this is a much more interesting story than zombie horror as a genre typically gets credit for and I've been thinking about it a lot lately.

[opiopal]

whenever I think about asmo and mc, my brain automatically thinks of them as the type of friends who kiss each other all the time, compliment each others butts, are always leaning against the others shoulders to look at their phones, and are always going to hot springs together and doing each others makeup.. But if ask if they’re a couple they both immediately look at you as if you just asked if denim on denim on denim looks good. (Which it DOESNT only people like Charlie swan could pull it off.)

but being more serious- dating or not, you’ve got an absolute bestie. And even better, instead of dragging mc off to go do something stupid or something that’ll get them in trouble, Asmo is instead pulling them aside to abuse passes to a spa he just bought! and the two just can’t help but talk endlessly, either it’s gossip, what’s going on around the HOL, complaining about school work, talking about where to go next. and once you think the two are FINALLY done, laying on their stomach as strong handed demons work the kinks out of their backs and shoulders, mc’s phone dings and they lazily bring it to their face before GASPING “SHE’S PREGNANT” asmo is suddenly shooting up with a gasp to copy mc’s “WAAAIT WHICH ONE??” something always just seems to pop up, no matter if it’s actually interesting or not. and even though mc tips very well and is extremely polite, most staff can’t help but be a twing annoyed by the two…. But of course they cant say much since that’s Lord Asmodeus and his human we’re talking about here. and you better believe mc is always dressed wonderfully. Even if it’s just their RAD uniform, Asmodeus makes sure that they have a cute bow or tie that matches with their hair and accessories perfectly…. along with that he also helps with picking out accessories lol. And whenever the two are about to go out somewhere he helps pick out an outfit for them! now you’d think he’d just dress them up like his own personal doll-(though a part of him DOES want to do that..) instead he carefully adds and removes whatever he can to perfectly capture mc’s sense of style! Mc wants something pink cute and with bows? He has an ADORABLE top they can borrow! Maybe they want to go with something more alt leaning- he’s shifting through every band t-shirt he can to see which would match the best with the shade of black that are those jeans.

And I just KNOW he’s got something akin to a Pinterest board for Mc,(Dinterest?? Pindevil??? Is there a devildom Pinterest????) which ofc Mc is also on the board and adds whatever they find that they are currently into. and honestly if mc’s fashion sense is bouncing around a lot- you better believe he just views that as an excuse to shop endlessly and to go into stores he never would usually!!! and after every single outfit is finally put together, and he helps style their hair and accessorize, you best believe he’s ending it off with a quick smooch to their nose as he carefully holds their face, gushing about how absolutely perfect they look💕

[stargirlygirl]

me sitting down to read this^

i think you did such a great job here. the grief was done with expert precision. you captured the pervasive yet all-consuming sadness of losing a loved one. and the irony of caleb and reader connecting over this shared loss when reader is the person he lost, was an interesting dynamic.

“We’re reporting for duty Mr. Xia, sir!” you salute, the image of Muffler doing the same in your head enough to make you snort.

building on that, the dynamic between reader and caleb is so fun. here, she's this bubbly, sunshine character, but we come to understand how volatile readers' emotions are. also, when they finish each other's sentences, that was really sweet.

Your back-and-forth external monologue is interrupted by the door opening in front of you and out walks the man who's been running circles in your mind ever since that enigmatic conversation last week.

KNEW he was listening in like... i just knew it and this made me giggle lol

He sees the offense mar your normally enthusiastic visage and quickly activates damage control.

beyond just this line, i think it's interesting (and very caleb-coded) how you've painted this reunion as a sort of psychological mission. i don't want to say caleb is outright manipulative, but there is something to be said about his planning and re-adjusting for the deviations in readers' personality. it genuinely makes a lot of sense given his characterisation and i think it's something you've nailed here.

onto the vampirism aspects, this allusion to war and caleb being used as a means to an end feels very matrix-esque. i think it was a nice touch that gideon was also a vampire. perhaps he fought alongside caleb in the past.

That admiration was buried the same day you were.

caleb being a vampire and reader being human the first time around was also really cool. it adds to the guilt he must feel (which you've detailed) around him being unable to save reader the first time around. thus, he feels this overwhelming need to turn her this time, which he does in a spur-of-the-moment decision. again, very caleb-coded.

"You're not afraid of me. You're afraid that you're not."

also thought this was a great line. just really hit hard given how frightening this situation must have been for reader.

at the end, when he's going to get muffler, my first thought was that that was the last thing i'd do in this situation. all i can think of is readers' sweet little cat (also loved that muffler had his own characterisation) crushed in readers' hands as she drains his blood, unable to stop but crying because of her love and attachment to him.

i thought incorporating zayne into this was such a nice touch! made me giggle and shit. my man, so good to see him at the end there.

overall, i think you did an amazing job. i really enjoyed reading this piece, and i know that you worked really hard on it!

Note: Longest fic I have ever written, my goodness. To my luvly @stargirlygirl who I'm doing this collab with and who has listened to all the ideas I've cooked up and tossed away—I LOVE YOU! Let me let you luvlys jump into this. ✨ Please, if you’d like, —Click Here— for the moodboard!

Warning/Contains: Vampire/Mechanic!Caleb, you’re a reincarnation of his past lover, ANGSTY, you’re grieving the loss of your mother, mentions of lacking the desire to go on without you, you get bitten by him without having a choice (i think that’s it, but if i missed one, please feel free to tell me!)

Word Count: 8.7K

Summary: When Caleb lost you, life held no meaning for him anymore. The only escape he had? He made a business out of it. But is it a trick of the mind when you're presented to him again, alive? The only con? You have no recollection of the history you've shared and now you're here for an interview at his auto shop. He won’t make the same mistake of letting you slip away from him again.

Once Bitten, Twice Repaired

“Hey,” an employee calls as he approaches the working man beneath a ‘95 Chevrolet Camero. “That interview I told you about. She’s here. Waiting out front.”

The intricate undercarriage that's currently in Caleb's face has him focusing with a tunnel vision level of concentration as he takes his time to inspect one more part of the suspension before responding. Only seconds pass until he's whistling with triumph just as he identifies what’s the issue with the dated vehicle.

He rolls out from beneath the automobile with a grin, then pulls himself off the mechanic creeper to stand at his full height.

“She’s eager,” Caleb smirks with a raised brow at the early bird who could potentially be a new employee in the next half hour.

“And excited,” Gideon chuckles. “You want me to bring her to your office or..?”

“Nah, I got it,” he assures, tapping on the trunk as he departs. “But do me a favor and get an order put in for some new shocks and struts for this one right here.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all!”

On a regular day, Caleb had someone else talk with and handle new hires and prospective candidates when the time came. But seeing as the girl that Gideon told to come in had arrived sooner than instructed, he actually wanted to greet the face behind the overachiever himself.

Being the owner of an auto shop, the 6'2 motor enthusiast preferred to be where his interests were. If you asked him, he wasn't too fond of the technicalities, but running his own business made keeping his identity hidden an infinitely easier task.

His love for cars is a bone deep infatuation that's lasted for as long as he can remember—which is funny to think about for someone with a significant number of years on his belt compared to the average life expectancy of anything “normal”.

The double-edged sword of living as long as he has to watch their creation and evolution into the machines they are today, has been a journey that's given him a meek light through the never-ending dark tunnel which harbors a past too painful to reminisce on.

It's exactly why he doesn't. Or at least tries really hard not to, anyways.

Pushing past one of the doors that separates the waiting area from the garage, he nods to the receptionist. As he looks around the room though, there's only one person present and it’s not who he’s looking for.

"Gideon said there’s a woman here for her interview?" he questions the older lady sitting in the office chair.

"Mhm," Gladys nods. "Should still be here since she only stepped outside a minute ago."

Caleb's lips pout in thought with a slight tilt of his head. Stepping into the early rising sun that's fairly tolerable compared to what it can be later on, he stands root in one spot in search of the lingering mortal.

It consumes only milliseconds of his time before he sees who he presumes to be her, sitting on the ground to the left with a baby kitten in her lap.

"Oh, you sweet little thing," you coo. "It's okay, I got ya."

He freezes. There’s no way. Not a chance.

"You're shivering bub, my goodness. I'll talk to boss man and see if I can keep you warm while we chat. It's not unprofessional, right? In fact, I think it's showing how resourceful I can be." Your titter that follows has the vampire beside you tripping the fuck out.

You sound exactly like her. Your laugh is eerily similar. And when you look at him...

"Oh!" you chirp, quickly standing with care to the animal that's as small as your palm when you realize his presence. “Sorry! This little guy was meowing like crazy while I was waiting and I couldn't leave him out here like that."

He can't move. He doesn't want to in fear that if he makes any sudden gesture, you'll fade into thin air like a mirage. That he'll blink and nothing will be there but the memory of the universe once again stabbing him with a knife curated of nothing but sick jokes.

"Um, Sir?" you step closer with worry. "Everything alright?"

The same nose, the same curve of your lips, the same light that twinkles behind your irises—you were a carbon copy of the woman he failed to protect over a century ago and had the unending life he lived to thank for the fact that he couldn't join you.

Vampires are incapable of taking their own lives. Not only a rule that's been set in stone for longer than he's been alive to protect the population of his kind, but the genetic makeup of one wouldn’t easily allow it.

And believe him when he says he’s tried.

No matter what one's mind may want, the vampiric influence held more dominion.

So, when he came home after hunting to see you dead on the kitchen floor of your small cottage years ago from your heart condition claiming you faster than he could comprehend, he was cursed to live on without you what he presumed would be for eternity.

But there must be something that now pities him or finds his everlasting grief comical to put you before him once more.

Bubbly, cheerful, and all the more beautiful. Seeing you again for the first time is enough to make him as sick as his last.

"Should I call someone?" you mumble, walking around him to run inside and ask for some back up for the statue, but a firm hand wrapped around your wrist stops your venture and startles you.

"Tomorrow. C-Can you start tomorrow?" he spoke lowly, his violet eyes unable to look in your direction as they stared at the concrete out of uncertainty of what he'd say or do.

You even felt like her. You are her. And he needed a small amount of separation to correct his behavior before he could determine what it took to keep you. He wouldn't lose you this time.

You gasp. "I got the job?!"

He nods sharply in an attempt to control his instincts. "Seven AM."

Realizing he's still touching your smooth skin, he drops your appendage like it's made of flames.

And when he regains the little sense he has left, Caleb storms back inside without another word and leaves you in the desolate parking lot.

Gladys knew better than to inquire about what happened when he passes her, seeing as she watched enough to create her own assumptions courtesy to the see-through glass door.

Gideon looks back and forth behind his buddy as if you'd be hidden by the brooding male when he steps into the working area.

"You look... I don't even have a word for it. Where is she?"

His thumping steps don't stop on his retreat into his office as he gruffly responds, "She's my responsibility."

Whatever was your side the day you secured the first job you applied for after making your big move, it was an accomplishment well deserved and would be the kind of luck you'd be holding onto going forward in all your endeavors.

Finally, things were looking up after your mother had passed away. It took you some few years to get back into the groove of life, but growth and grieving weren’t linear, and that was okay.

That’s the mentality you’ve been trying to instill to give yourself grace for being so stagnant and admittedly lost for all this time. But where you are now is what matters, not the rock bottom that you grew too comfortable in.

Securing a job that would temporarily keep you sane as you adjusted to your all new everything was important. Not only would your pockets and bank account see profit, but perhaps your heart would benefit all the same and not ache as much being surrounded by the things you and your mom used to spend countless hours gushing about.

Cars were her world and when you were made an addition, naturally the same would apply from being raised solely by the automotive expert. Not only were you thankful for the skills and the memories, but they let you keep a part of her anchored to this world that could never slip away as easily as she had.

Hitting the jackpot and finding a position online for the decently popular location was pretty cool. It was close to your new apartment, the pay was good, and the expectations matched your criteria.

This is what progress looked like.

The smile on your face couldn’t be shaken as you approached the doors that have brought you genuine joy to see for the last two weeks. In fact, this entire building, it's been a consistent reminder of what you were working to achieve in the long run.

Starting up your own establishment in a world of cars is a dream you and your mom were always meant to reach before something took her as if it needed her more than you did. Now that your head was back in the game, that vision would be coming into fruition if it was the last thing you did to honor her.

“Morning, Gladys,” you greeted in passing.

“Mornin’,” she replied as her French tip nails tapped along the keyboard.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you playfully shove Gideon’s as he fishes for something in his toolbox and he chuckles.

“You better not have that thing in there.”

“That ‘thing’ has a name, jackass!”

You opened and looked into the oversized tote, surging with love because of the gray fluff ball that you’ve been bringing into work with you ever since you found him. Keeping that luck held tight wasn’t an exaggeration and you were convinced this little dude was your charm.

“Isn’t that right, Muffler?” you coo, reaching a finger in to scratch his chin as he meows with what you hope is joy. He’s been as loud as a damaged part no matter what you did, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

Everyone you pass is greeted with waves and whispered hellos on your way to your “mentor”. He's deep in the engine bay of a pretty metallic army green pickup truck, his back muscles rippling beneath his white tank top as he leans into the complex area.

“We’re reporting for duty Mr. Xia, sir!” you salute, the image of Muffler doing the same in your head enough to make you snort.

After his freezing episode and you came into work the day after, he made it a point to apologize immediately, but didn't attach an explanation behind it.

And you didn’t really need one despite your curiosity.

Being given what you received without hesitation, even though you didn't understand why, was not a victory you'd question.

He's loosened up quite a bit in your brief time here, too; making a few corny jokes that you’d never admit was actually funny, testing your knowledge from time to time like a pop quiz, and sticking by you every step of the way in your adjustment to the new environment.

Though for some reason, he refused to look at you. If he did, it was never for long—almost as if letting the gaze that you couldn't help but be drawn to when you caught it, was forbidden. Too much.

There was something inside of you that wondered if his strange reaction the first time you met had a deeper reason you didn’t understand.

“Lookin’ at this—think you could you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't have to look to know you're there. Past all the drilling and heavy machinery, your arrival was made known to him five minutes before you even opened the door.

You believe that ability is a keen talent rather than a natural skill, as you’re unaware of the true nature of the blood drinking mechanic who’s gained such a power through his transformation. It’s why you grin with such impress at his never-faltering accuracy.

"Of course I can."

Caleb tries not to buckle under pressure when your sweet perfume and the intoxicating aroma of the delicacy pumping through your system consumes his heightened senses the moment you lean in close. The urge for his fangs to bare is most difficult to keep at bay when he briefly eyes the vein that trails into your navy blue jumper and past the top of your breasts.

If he could sweat, he’s sure he would’ve made a puddle by now.

Although your scent is nowhere near identical to what it once was, this is the most inebriating it's ever been. With a tensed jaw, he works to keep his control before he makes a mistake that would cost him everything he’s intending to do.

He's been training you since day one—if you wanted to call staring at you while you asked him questions and he'd respond with a head movement a little too late—training.

In truth, your knowledge and expertise impressed the vampire who couldn't understand where you came from, but the fact that you seemed to carry zero memory of him and your past? That perturbed him even more.

You talked with him like this is the first time you and he have ever spoken. Like he didn't know what you felt like from the inside, like he didn't know all your ticks and all your favorites.

But perhaps this was the first time, because not too many of those things seemed to apply anymore to the somebody that he used to know, and he was unsure about how to juggle that fact.

You liked coffee instead of tea, preferred the hot summers over frigid winters, you were boisterous and out there instead of quiet and reserved.

You were different. But was it betraying you to like this you all the same despite the changes?

"There's nothing wrong,” you answer after your once over.

He smirks. "You sure?"

"Positive.” You’re smug as all hell and he likes it.

You pull Muffler out and giggle as he licks his nose from eating the dry food you left in there for him to snack on until you got him settled in Caleb’s office.

"Isn't that right, Muff?"

He looks between you two, silently admiring the position it holds in your hands. After you came in the first time with the noisy feline and begged to be able to bring him in on the daily, he should’ve said no. Anyone else, he would’ve—not a second wasted in his swiftness to decline.

But with you? How could he?

"Yeah?” Caleb folds his arms and leans against the vehicle. “Enlighten me. What makes you say that?”

"Well." Petting Muffler, you continue. "My mom used to always say, 'The difference between a mechanic and an artist is that a mechanic’s work needs to be perfect every single time.'”

"Ayrton Senna," Caleb nods in appreciation for your quick wit quotes.

"Look at youuu. But yes, exactly. And that means we can't afford to make a mistake, not with things as important and as intricate as this. Liquids are full and in their designated compartments, belts and sensors are in tack. No rusting or misplaced parts in sight. Yeah, this is good to go."

The immortal grins cockily. "Interesting. Now,” he gestures to where you presume the keys to be. “turn it on."

Your eyes widen. "Wait! That isn't fair! You didn't say to check it while it's running!"

“A mechanic’s ingenuity comes from their willingness to look beyond the obvious—”

"—for solutions.’ Steve McQueen, yada yada," you groan, tossing your head back in defeat. "I hate when you're right. Mom is rolling in her grave right now."

"She was important to you." Not a question, but an unveiling that similarly hits too close to home.

"My world," you correct with no malice in your tone. "Everything I've been doing since I came here... It's so I can give us what we should've had the time to do."

"I'm listenin’," he nudges your arm after you grow silent, using playfulness to break your walls down so that he can make his way in and determine what he may or may not need to do.

"I shouldn't be trauma dumping on my boss."

He shrugs. "You call it trauma dumping. I call it talking to someone who... understands."

You whip your head in his direction, Muffler purring like a motor on his journey to the land of sleep just as you halt his head rubs.

“You’ve lost someone, too? I mean who hasn’t though, right..?”

“I’ve lost a lot.” He focuses on the dirtied floor while you move beside him to lean like he does.

You frown when you see the clear disturbance in his face. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

If he had a heart that gave him life, it would’ve been pulled from his chest and put in your hands so you could watch how fast you make it beat.

I’m sorry, Caleb.

To him, you're indirectly and unknowingly apologizing for leaving him when it was never your fault or intention. Hearing that brings him an odd sense of closure. And determination.

Because there’s no need for you to be sorry. You just have to stay this time and he aims to make sure that happens. He won’t allow for the same mistake of letting mortality be your weakness.

“Whoever they were, I’m sure they added so much to your life.”

He chuckles wryly. “You have no idea.”

“Do you miss them?”

“It’s all I do. At least, all I did. Now? I… I think I may have something, someone, so different and new to not replace what I had..”

Carefully you watch his sharp jaw tick, and his thick neck move as he turns to face you, giving you his eyes for longer than the milliseconds you’re used to.

“But to give me the chance to make sure I never lose it again.”

You stare into his orbs with so much familiarity and understanding as if there was a time where they were what you’d called safety. Refuge.

It should freak you out to think like that, but instead, this is the most grounded you’ve felt since Mom. That bizarre reality is what makes you break the connection with fluttering lashes and watery eyes.

“I’m gonna make this right. I promise,” he whispers, and before you can try and decrypt if that was something dedicated to you or a declaration meant for the universe, Gideon calls out from across the garage.

“I’m this close to throwing a wrench and you’re lucky if I miss! Enough slacking!”

Honestly, you don’t know who he’s talking to, but it still applies to you and Caleb, even if he is the boss.

Blushing, your focus is pulled away from the hankering vamp and placed upon your sleeping kitty.

“He’s right… Thanks for the talk. It was…” you shake away the initial words on the tip of your tongue.

It was needed. It made me feel. It’s something I need more of.

“I’ll get to work.”

He watches you briskly walk to his office to get Muffler set up before your shift.

While he doesn’t exactly know what just happened between you two, he’s giving the glory to chance, that the subtle exchange of shared experiences created a resonance that has broken an invisible layer.

What’s certain? He’s taking advantage of it.

“I have no business doing this,” you chastise yourself silently just outside Caleb’s office. “I need to be bringing Muffler home. It’s way past his bedtime. And it's kinda late. But it’s not… like it wouldn’t be weird if I asked, right? It’s a boss-employee thing. Something to—”

Your back-and-forth external monologue is interrupted by the door opening in front of you and out walks the man who's been running circles in your mind ever since that enigmatic conversation last week.

Caleb didn’t miss how you redirected the exchange you were sharing toward him after he asked you about your unspoken plans. Skillfully, you placed the attention onto him so that he'd speak on the things that have brought him his own anguish rather than opening up about yourself.

But little do you know, biding his time and relearning the woman you are now, has been a monumental asset that's gotten him further than he could've imagined.

It's how he's already earned your trust in the month of you being here and why he's gained a definitive understanding of how to dismantle those barriers so that he could be the one to replace them and protect you instead.

The more he became familiar, the more prevalent your need to have a sense of control over the arbitrary system of life, became. You needed to be the one to open up on your own time, not when it was asked of you.

Cut to you talking yourself up into inviting him over for dinner for the last fifteen minutes to prove that accurate assessment true.

Of course, you wouldn't know that he has been listening to every single word of your contemplative banter or that he was internally begging for you to not withhold the request he knew you were hesitating to ask.

Who you are made sense for someone who lost the only person who gave them love, stability, and comfort in this lifetime (so far). You were like an open book already. But for Caleb, being the ever-greedy man he has always been, he wanted access to your glossary, cliff notes, and all the things in between.

Whatever higher power above has returned you to him, he would make them proud and be the one to refurbish you from all you’ve lost.

So please, please ask him so he can tell you yes!

While he harbors all the information and memories that you don’t and was certain about your universally aligned connection, you on the other hand, were mystified.

Besides the fact that you had what could be labeled as a very unprofessional attraction to your boss, it wasn't just a physical thing. Oddly, he brought you a semblance of normality that stumped you no matter how you tried to come up with a logical explanation.

There was none. Not that you could think of in your hours of trying.

You couldn't understand why you seemed to be so tethered and drawn to him, but the reincarnation of your soul? That did.

You found yourself wanting him near, craving his opinion and the sound of his voice, even wanting to hear him ramble for hours about all the same automotive knowledge you already knew.

"You alright, pips?" he smiled.

Get your head in the game.

"You're really sticking with that nickname, aren't you?"

"What? You don't like it?"

"It feels like an insult."

"I'd never insult you."

"You insult Gideon all the time."

"You're not Gideon though, are you? Besides, he deserves it."

Their aggressive but humorous jesting throughout the day never failed to make you and everyone else hysterical. You always wondered how Gideon got away with talking to his employer the way he did, but the clear bond between them was more than enough of an answer.

"Sometimes," you agree.

"You've got somethin' on your mind." He shuts the door and locks it. "Care to share?"

"How do you do that?" You follow him around as he checks on everything once more.

"Do what?"

"Always know what's up with me. It's so trippy."

"I've had a... good amount of time, I guess." (Just a few years of being your other half as experience, no big deal.)

"I guess," you parrot, smiling like a doofus when he winks at the noticeable heated rush of pink to your cheeks.

Shaking off the reluctance, you blurt out what you wanted to propose before you can further convince yourself that you were a fool for even thinking about it.

"Do you—Would you want to come by my place… for dinner?"

Caleb stops where he is, and you regret it instantaneously.

"Shit. Okay, hold on, please don't fire me. I only wanted to thank you for making my time here so gratifying and—Alright, maybe I should've invited you to a restaurant or something so it's more appropriate and palatable, but we always get off late, Muffler needs to be brought home, and I didn't—"

"Pipsqueak," he interrupts your tangent. If only you knew he was all in the second you made it a consideration. "I'd love to."

"Come on in," you gesture, and the contement that washes over the man who already knows your layout, is otherworldly.

Being able to walk freely in your space without sneaking and keeping silent is way easier than waiting until you were showering or sleeping to climb in through a window to snoop around.

Yes, he has followed you home and invaded your privacy, as well as rummaged through your things without your permission.

And yes, he took one of your shirts and a pair of (dirty) panties with him for safe keeping to... hold, on the nights he missed you more than he could reason with.

It was fine, though. Look at how close you were! Already inviting him in with no qualms about it.

Muffler was the worst guard cat he's ever seen, though. He’d meow cheerfully at his feet in each room he followed the invasive man into on the nights of his trespassing, but Caleb chalked it up to still being so young and familiar with him from all the hours inadvertently spent together.

He had your kind heart to thank for such a companionship that works in his favor.

"I know you said you weren't hungry, but I'm still glad you came by. TMI, but I'm pretty much alone now and it's been difficult making friends since, well, you know. I’m really thankful, is what I’m trying to say.”

Obviously, he couldn't eat what you were going to prepare and worried telling you was going to make you change your mind. But that didn't deter you at all after he promised that he had a hearty lunch and didn’t mind stopping by if you were still open to it.

You were shocked because you swear you've never seen him or Gideon for that matter, eat anything. Come to think of it, you’ve never seen a lick of sweat fall from the two consistent hard workers, either.

Diet plans? Botox? You didn’t judge. Maybe you could ask about that another time.

Caleb made sure to drink some blood bags five because look at the size of him that he gets from his close friend Zayne who walks the same vampirism “lifestyle”. The preventive measures would guarantee that he wouldn't be ravenous and endanger you from being possessed by an insatiable hunger he couldn't trust himself to control around something so incredibly enticing.

"If there's no one else you think you can turn to, I'm always going to be there, you know?" he added.

You don't have anything proper to say to that, so you simply tip up the corner of your mouth in response and get Muffler settled before cooking yourself dinner.

Caleb sits at your cute kitchen island and has small conversation with you as you busily move around while simultaneously analyzing all the things he's already memorized about your home-in-progress.

All the while, your mind is flooded with the notion that this feels so… right? That you wouldn’t necessarily mind more nights like this.

Nip it in the bud, sista. This is your boss.

Once you're finished and have a simple plate of chicken breast with the starch and vegetable of your choosing, Caleb sits at the small table across from you.

"Good?"

"Mhmm," you nod and cover your mouth as you chew the piece you consumed. "It may look simple, but this was one of Mom's favorites. Chicken breast is so versatile, you know? And we'd always eat late after working on whatever project we were obsessed with at the time. Chicken tacos, quesadillas, or a salad—it was always so different even if it was the same cut of meat or meal."

"Mm..” he hums. “Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but your mother sounds like your sole drive for everything you do." He rests his chin in his palm, watching you eat and waiting for you to give him what he's looking to get answers to.

"She is. I mean, I'm working this hard and doing it all on my own to get the garage that's been on our radar since I was like five. I owe that to her.”

Bingo.

"You wanna go into business for yourself?"

"Our plan was to move up here together and buy the property she had her eye on for all these years... but the cancer had other plans."

His eyes narrow in thought. "And if that doesn't work?"

You stop mid chew, looking at him with a newfound carefulness.

"Why would you say that?"

He sees the offense mar your normally enthusiastic visage and quickly activates damage control.

"I don't mean it offensively, pips. Just a question I'm asking as someone who knows the difficulties that come from starting his own from the ground up."

"All I've done is have anxiety about the what ifs and the potential losses. I don't want to be controlled by that anymore. I can do this."

The memory of what your life together once was, the times in which you'd say something almost identical, rings in his mind like a raging alarm.

Through all his concerns that pertained to the fragile state of your heart before it showed you how necessary it was for you to worry; you always brushed him off. Always tried to act like you were stronger than something you would never have control over in a world of underdeveloped medicine and healthcare.

He'll never forget how you consistently rejected his urgent propositions to turn you, to make you like him and rid you of your condition to live with him pain and worry free for eternity.

But you refused to take what you deemed "the easy way out".

Your determination to conquer it on your own like your father had been doing at the time, made him admire you and your resilience.

That admiration was buried the same day you were.

He willingly let that be your demise when he should’ve taken matters into his own hands regardless of how many instances you assured him that you were doing everything right to give yourself the best chance.

Look where that decision left him. If one could have a play by play of the timeline of his pain and despair, you would've seen what it did.

What's to say this same negligence being shown towards your aspirations wouldn't do the same now?

The thought of you trying to leave because something didn't pan out how you anticipated. Or of you letting your pride be your downfall with the potential of being so overcome by another monumental loss directly connected to your last to the point that you try to leave him entirely—again...

No. He wasn't enabling another repeat of anything remotely similar.

"There’s no shame in asking for help, pipsqueak. I can be that for you. Why don't you let me—"

"I don't need your help, or your pity!" you cut off defensively.

I don't need your help. I don't need you.

I don't want you, Caleb.

He's blinded by irrationality. You do need him. You always have. You always would.

"If you don't, then who else but me do you think will be there? You said it yourself; I make things easier for you, don't I?"

Quickly you've completely lost your appetite and what was once a good idea has surprisingly turned sour.

"Me," you emphasize, index finger pointed to your chest. "I've always had my own back through all this. I did it on my own! Who do you think you are, Caleb?"

He wants to tell you. So badly has he thought about it putting it all on the table.

I'm the man whose soul you governed. I'm the vampire whose existence you welcomed and accepted. I'm the immortal who barely recognizes who you are now, but I don't want the old version—I want the one I've been regifted to love me just as you once did.

I’m the only person in the entire world that you once depended on for everything and I couldn’t even do that right.

Besides the likelihood of you believing him being lower than hell, comparing you to what only he recalls is a mistake he can't afford to continue making. Not when it begins to impact the building relationship he was fortunate to have now.

"I'm sorry—"

"You should be," you scoff. "Do you know how many times I’ve been “warned”, told about the negatives? The likely failures? Why can’t anyone be happy for me? Why can’t anyone just… celebrate or congratulate, or-or just encourage, without trying to make me feel like I’m inherently doomed!? I’m not some ticking time bomb of disaster!”

He doesn’t have anything to say, but his silence speaks volumes.

“And you know what? I-I think… I need you to leave. Before I say something I'll regret."

Listening to you now is the last thing he wants to do, but it's what he has to if he wishes to not further ruin what he's doing a damn good job of doing already.

With a heavy mind and an ache inducing blunder, his night with you steered in the complete opposite direction than he expected and is concluded by the loudest farewell of a slamming door to his back.

He already made you a promise and though you’re oblivious to the fact, your fate with him has long been sealed.

"Like I just got this car from my father a couple months ago for my birthday right, but my grandad has been freaking me out about some transmission thing! So, I'm worrying and thinking 'Maybe I do need to get this looked at, just in case' and that's when I looked up some good mechanics nearby and you guys popped up, your reviews were pretty fire, so I figured maybe—"

The frantic fast-talking customer abruptly stops her tumultuous rambling to catch her breath, grumbling to herself about how she needs to remember her breathing exercises with a woosah and a countdown from ten.

"I'm just really hoping you can help me understand what I need to be panicking for," she finishes, her cheeks patchy with red from the mix of the warmer temperature and hysteria.

You smile understandingly at the young teenager who's brought in her 2017 Volkswagen Jetta in a frenzy just as the shop was closing up for the day.

It's always nice to see people seek out knowledge about the things you're passionate about because you get to unleash that inner nerd, but not when it has them is such disarray.

"You have nothing to be panicking for," you assure with a hand to her arm in solace. "I'm almost certain that your grandad is concerned about manual transmission. See, Volkswagens are equipped with something called Tiptronic transmission and what that does is replace the manual one. Back then, if you shifted your gears incorrectly, your vehicle could suffer from that mistake and maybe even your pockets if the damage was bad enough. Now? Tiptronic is sort of fused with automatic, so in the event that you make such a mistake, your car will recognize and correct it for you to prevent any damage to the transmission."

The redhead nods in understanding and huffs out a breath of relief. "So I'm like, not going to screw it up right? I'm not driving in some death trap?"

"Not at all," you chuckle. "It's a hybrid system. What it does is offer you convenience, so you won't even notice. But it's still wise to learn and understand your gears by heart and the overall functionality of your car. Even if something may not be utilized, a good and conscious driver knows how to operate all of it effectively."

She closes her eyes like she's just found peace. "You actually just prevented an impending spiral, oh my gosh you don't even know. I thought I was going to have to miss out on my trip this weakened because my dad screwed up!"

"Next time, just give us a call about any questions that we may be able to answer over the phone so you can save yourself the trip! But yeah, we ran you a diagnostic for your peace of mind and everything is up to date and in the right order, so you're good to go."

The now tranquil teen offers you several thank yous before gleefully getting into her driver's seat and carefully peels out of the parking lot.

With another busy day coming to a resolute close, you look around the mostly empty garage besides a Gideon who throws you a thumbs up for your explanation as he gets ready for closing after the hustle and bustle, and an attentive Caleb wrapping up an oil change.

It's been four whole days since your bout that ended up with you kicking him out. And you were wrong about what you did and the things you said.

Dead wrong.

But you were positively livid to hear another voice questioning you like you weren't capable. Admittedly, that's where you made your first mistake.

Caleb wasn't just another voice, and he wasn't knocking your capability to achieve. He cared, and instead of letting him do that and listening to his logical concerns, you surrounded yourself with titanium and pushed him away because of your egotistical stance of self-sufficiency.

It wasn't your wish to sound so bitter and guarded. It was a defense mechanism from all the discouragement rained down upon you no matter who you once trusted to share your dreams with.

"You're already moving across the country. I know the house didn't sell for that much to afford living expenses and a business."

"Something like that is usually passed down from generations in terms of seeing substantial profit... You sure?"

"You're still grieving, friend. I think you're rushing this."

"If your mom hadn't been able to do it, what makes you think you're going to do different?"

Rather than checking all the naysayers, you'd freeze and feel your nose burn with sorrow.

All the anger and frustration that's been pent up was given to him instead of being properly dished out to the ones who really deserved it, and you were riddled with guilt because of that.

He's shown you kindness, given you care and liberties to do things no one else would. He made you feel like you again, yet you liquidated a moment you could've taken to experience sincere congeniality because of your unresolved issues.

The shame kept you out of work the day after, the matter only worsening as you ignored and steered clear of him for the last three including today. You've been so avoidant that you haven't even been bringing Muffler in, and that's what solidified your position with the troubled vampire.

It's a revelation you weren't too sure how to cope with, but you missed him.

You missed him so much that when you didn't get your good mornings and stupid pop-up questions, all you wanted to do was go home and wallow in your stupidity and useless pride.

But it's high time for you to swallow it and take charge like the adult you were.

You walk over to him with a twisted face full of irresolution. There was no script written out in your mind about what you'd say or how you were going to make amends, but you were hopeful that he'd understand in your attempt.

"Hey," you whisper, twiddling your fingers to keep yourself busy until he responded as you stood beside him.

"Pips... hey" Caleb answers, not taken aback at all by your sudden appearance. Identifying you without fail is a favorable advantage when he can't hear you mutter about all the things being pondered in that turning cogwheel of a brain.

He was unable to hear you make the eventual decision to speak with him because for the first time since you've met—even when you were alone in your home—you were hauntingly silent, keeping all your thoughts in the safe space behind your skull.

To say that he yearned for you was an understatement.

Your smile, your stories, your voice—they were irreplaceable just as much as they were unobtainable. And sitting on the floor of your bedroom at night while you slept as Muffler purred himself to sleep in his lap wasn't cutting it anymore.

"If you had the time, I was wondering if... if we could talk—"

"Yes," he cuts you off unintentionally. "Sorry... Yeah, I'd like that. Please."

Nodding at his eagerness that you struggle to refrain from giving a reaction to, you eye his sexy hands that he cleans with a nearby rag before calling out to Gideon to keep an eye on everything until he returns.

Crossing the threshold into his office, you roll up the sleeves of your flannel and try calming your jittery hands that don't have a clue what to do with themselves.

Once you turn to face him, he can't explain why he anticipated for you to be calm and orderly, but instead, you begin to spill your guts like there's a time limit that will come with consequence if you're not finished in time.

"First of all, I'm sorry. So sorry. My anger was misdirected, and you didn't do anything wrong. Instead of taking your advice with discernment, instead of understanding where you were coming from, I boxed you in with all the other people who never cared about me. A-And I don't know if I've ruined the dynamic we have outside of what we are as two people who work together, but I want to fix it if I have."

Your breath shudders as you prepare to reveal what you've been feeling but were too scared to say out loud because of the ramifications that may tag along.

"Caleb, I know you might think I'm crazy or some mourning mess with attachment issues when I say this, and maybe I am. I just... I don't have anyone else, a-and I can't do everything on my own like I thought. I feel like I need you... but I'm not your responsibility and neither is my trauma, but I can't..."

Your words begin to drone out and it's not because he wishes to disregard what you're laying out for him.

It humors him... because he knows all of this already.

I feel like I need you.

Once again has he become an extension of you, this time so much so that he can feel the restraint he's been wrapping himself up in, release him with every word you articulate.

Caleb is drawn to you like the stars that stick to the sky, done with the waiting and the cautiousness, and slams his lips onto yours as he cups your jaw hungrily in his hands. You're nearly knocked to the floor by the sheer force, but the desk you clatter against braces the fall.

His lips slowly massage yours like a starved man being free from the shackles of famine, a primal satisfaction taking hold of him when your hands slowly find purchase in his locks and you moan into his mouth.

You wanted him? He was already yours.

The smell of all the blood fueling your healthy palpitating heart makes him feel like he's growing dizzy and the headiness of the arousal that he senses gathering in your shorts begins to...

Hold it. Hold it!

But the vampiric dominance conquers his long forgotten humanoid instincts, overriding his attempt to repress his true identity.

This was happening now, then. There was no need to hold off anymore. He had all he needed with the perfect opportunity to take it.

Patience didn't exist anymore. You would have dozens of lifetimes in unity for that.

From the beginning, getting you in a position like this was the final play before he gave you an irreversible hardship that he would pledge an undying oath to guide you through.

Caleb vowed to stop you from abandoning him again and the desire to fulfill that is what draws his fangs out.

For the first time in a long one, all the control he had once mastered after decades of being a creature in hiding, is being revealed before you can realize.

The fact that you're pressed to him in a closed room like an unwary sheep left to the slaughter, precedes you as you lose yourself in the slip of his tongue past your puffy lips and the feel of his strong hands imprinting on your waist.

But don't mistake his devotion to you, what he's about to do, as punishment.

He'll teach you everything. He swears it, cross his useless heart and hope to die.

He'll kill for you when you're scared to do it, please you when you need him to. He'd go hungry if it meant making sure all your newfound needs were satisfied.

It's the least he could do for the only man who'll ever be allowed to love you and is about to strip you of all you've ever known to give you something that you will make better together.

Taking care of his eternal beloved was always his purpose. You came back to him for a reason.

And what an unknowing angel you were to give him the opportunity to succeed this time.

His kisses trail down your neck and a nip to your flesh offers an unusual blend of pleasure and a pain you can't quite say mixes, but overrides.

"I've waited for you for so long..." he whispers, licking up the length of your neck and grunting when you whine and press your breasts to his hard chest.

"You're so dramatic," you grin foolishly as you pull back. "It's only been like four days—"

Your eyes widen and your already elevated heart rate steadily reaches heights that only makes his thirst for you edacious.

"Caleb...?" Your tone pitches with concern and perplexity. "What—"

"I remember when you used to be mesmerized by me." He angles his head, observing you and the way your throat works to swallow your timidity. "Do I scare you now?

The sight of his pointy and sharp elongated canines makes you incapable of responding. You have to be dreaming. That's the only way for what you're witnessing to make any sense.

"How did you—I don't understand..."

"You will, pips. I promise you will. I won't make it hurt as much as it hurt me. I always protect you, you know that."

"Hurt?! This is not... What the fuck are you talking about?! I don't know...w-what is wrong... with you?"

"...If I told you that I've always been this way? The times you trusted me with our Muffler, the lunches you'd eat in here because I eased your rampant mind, every instance you laughed your pretty little head off because of the things I've said. Oh, honey... I was this, hiding—waiting."

His hand trails up to grasp your throat with zero pressure applied, taking a moment to inhale you deeply.

"Before you, before the materials that keep this building together, I have walked this Earth for a long, long time. But I haven't been able to live without you."

A devoted kiss to your jaw. "You remember... I've told you that I know what it means to lose."

Another. "I watched my biological family be murdered by the same beings that turned me into what they are. They used me, materialized me in their war against the humans. I was a killer, unstoppable. But when I had a deliverance, a liberation, come into my life to show me how much control I had over my own fortune with the power I possessed... I was accepted without an ulterior motive—loved. I was in love. Pips, I held onto that with both hands. Until I was stupid enough to let it slip."

Warm tears pour over your waterline and down your cheeks as he shushes you sweetly to calm your worries. "You're not afraid of me. You're afraid that you're not."

His mouth falls to the crook of your neck. "I don't want you to fear us. I just want you home."

A sharp and painful stab is impaled into the side of your neck as a forceful pressure is pushed deep the more your blood is being extracted from every vein and artery that will no longer need the crimson to function.

You cry out clamorously from the burning ache taking over your body and muscles when you cling to his biceps.

Were you pulling away or succumbing to this? You couldn't comprehend.

No sobs can escape the more the decadent fluid spills into his mouth and makes a mess down his chin while it stains his top that was once only dirtied by grease.

His venom rewires your system to welcome the change, to embrace who you will become as you fall slack. He continues to consume even when your brightened skin grows pale the longer you're drained until you're completely immobile and unconscious.

Caleb holds you up by the back of your head to savor every drop, growling with delight just as he finishes. With inhumane speed, Gideon shoots into the room, his fangs presented and posture ready for a fight.

He drops his guard as he watches his comrade from all these decades, claim you until you have nothing more to give him.

Pulling back, Caleb licks away the trickle trying to escape and kisses your forehead as if seeing you like this pains him.

"You'll forgive me when you wake up, pipsqueak."

He keeps his eyes trained on you at the same time he commands his addled friend, "Bring the car around back."

Gideon looks at your comatose form then does as he was asked with harboring questions to be asked later.

Careful of your fragile state, Caleb effortlessly carries and places you atop the plush armchair you liked to sit and eat your sandwiches on.

He's done exactly what he wanted to. You are where he has always envisioned. But when you wake up, is he prepared for what you may say or do?

Your maker will want you to know that you're not isolated, that everything isn't over.

You will get your mother's garage, you will cement her legacy into this planet, and you will do it with him. But he wasn't too certain that he'd be the proper voice of reason or the one you’d initially want to hear.

So, he decides on the best alternative solution.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket and with eyes flipping between you and his screen, it takes him two scrolls before he presses the contact and call button of the person he needs to reach.

One ring. Two. Three. Four… Damn.

"Yes?" the voice answers impassively, thankfully before he was forced to try again until he got a response.

"Zayne," Caleb starts, wiping his mouth from the messy consumption. "You got time to offer some friendly advice?”

“I have two minutes.”

Caleb offers a dry chuckle. “Tell me, what was the first thing you did after you... turned your wife?"

Silence. An uncomfortable one. Lengthy.

"What have you done?"

"Something I was supposed to do."

"If you've made an intentional decision that you're confident about, why do you call me with vexatious riddles? Whatever it is, is it not what you wanted?"

Pressing his lips together, he leans down to brush your untidy hair away to see you without any obstruction blocking a view so captivating.

"It is. But I'm not entirely sure if I can say the same for her. Not yet."

"Her?" Zayne questions in slight alarm. Caleb feels like he can already hear the thousands of questions he wants to ask and points he's dying to make all professional like.

He's thankful that he keeps it short.

"Bring her over before she wakes and does something mindless without properly understanding what she is."

"Done. Will your wife be there?"

"And that matters why?" But Zayne doesn't even give a moment long enough to answer.

"Do as I've instructed you and we will go from there. Do not waste any more time. She needs to be controlled and monitored for her first feed."

Hanging up, your soulmate hurries to sweep you into his arms and fixates on your lifeless face in silence on his way outside. Caleb haphazardly explains to Gideon that he needs to hold down the fort for some time before either of you return and while he wants to inquire more, he knows that now is not the time.

You're placed in the backseat as he maneuvers you until you seem comfortable enough for the long ride and throws one of his sweaters over your body out of habit from all the nights he would do the same in your bedroom with your blankets.

He kisses your chilling lips when he's done and grins faintly.

"I'm gonna get Muffler for you. Our family sticks together. Always.”

Climbing over you, he presses your foreheads together before he gets ready to get behind the wheel to make the way toward your new future.

"I told you, pips. I promised I would make it right."

A/N: I’m nervous as all hell to see what anyone is going to say LOLLLL!!! Writing this was admittedly a challenge. It forced me to really lock in over the last week and I think I really needed that in an effort to improve my writing. Hours upon hoursssss I spent, so I can only hope with fingers crossed🤞🏽. I luv you. MWAH!

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*Photos do not belong to me!

[freedelusionshere]

Syd and Carmy both want intimacy with each other and are afraid of it. They’re both extremely intense when it comes to the other person and jumped into everything fast.

Carmy thinks he has made a forever connection to Syd by handing her the family restaurant. We’ll see, because Syd is just as stubborn as he is.

Claire wants this too, and admits that it’s “scary”, and Carmy is at least trying to open up to her, but she’s a brick wall as well and connected to his past and wants performative gestures constantly (“Go get my sweater.”)

I think the difference here is that Syd and Carmy don’t really want to burden the other person with their past (Syd the most) but Claire seems (based on S4) to want a safe space to trauma dump about her past. She watches and looks at things and doesn’t figure them out, but tries to find catharsis in other people’s pain and trauma to make sense of things.

Carmy and Syd both don’t bring parts of themselves that they need to the table to be able to fully collaborate yet. It’s not just about making a dish together, either.

Carmy let his “stuff” get in the way and built up a teflon ego to protect himself. And now that’s been torn down and he’s acknowledged that he has to figure out who he is without that (in order to be with Syd).

Syd is only just beginning to really open up about her stuff to others, and she chooses Uncle Jimmy of all people (not even Richie) and TJ (not even Chantel). Syd is incredibly avoidant, so there’s something fairly big there around her mom, I think, and why she has so many walls. She literally runs away from center stage in her dream. She runs away from a solo spotlight, and maybe that will be her breakthrough and Carmy is literally letting her have center stage and not getting in her way anymore and it scares her but he believes in her.

So, it’s pretty interesting that Carmy appears to be still pushing her? Is he aware? I think possibly he is now. Does someone need to have a solo spotlight to grow? Is that what Syd really wants? That’s another question entirely.

Syd tells him he’s her partner because she knows that is actually what he wants from her, but outside the restaurant. I do think if Carmy had tried to ask her out before this she maybe would’ve tried it but would’ve bolted when it got hard for her. Syd knows Carmy wants to be close to her and she wanted to have him right there beside her in the restaurant and also keep him at arm’s length. So, now he’s going to try to be her friend instead of thinking he’s capable of giving her what she wants and needs as a chef.

I’m very interested to see what happens with them in S5!