#Also I'm mostly feeling light hearted about this ramble

[ghostiebloo]

Okay so can I just say that I hate that when people make a painting they have to do so much explaining of the meaning behind every brush stroke and color choices. Like fr I made a painting for an art gallery for alumni at my college and I know for a fact people are gonna ask me for some deep reasoning.

Sleep deprivation and rice is the only answer I always can think of when I consider what questions will come my way.

[pepperonidk]

i'd rather be blind || c.sc

pairing: sungcheol x reader, mingyu x reader warnings: angst, not accurate at all to korean high school culture but uh... it's fanfic word count: 1425 summary: Seungcheol would rather go blind than see you with someone else. inspired by the song I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James.

a/n: this is crossposted on my marvel account (@pepperonijem) bc i'm reading some of my old marvel fics and damn... they were kinda insane

main masterlist || taglist

“Whiskey neat. And make it a double,” Seungcheol sighed as he leaned his elbows on the wooden counter of the open bar.

The sound of Etta James’s voice flooded the background, but the only sounds he could bring himself to focus on was the blood pounding in his ears, and his heart keeping in time with it. The drink slid its way down towards him, and he snapped out of his trance only long enough to catch the drink before it spilled on the suit he rented for the evening. Seungcheol let out another deep sigh before downing the drink in one sip; the familiar burn of the alcohol settled over him and he welcomed the warmth that rose in his throat. 

He asked for another glass, ignoring the bartender’s concerned glance. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling, and let the music and chatter behind him drown the memories he no longer wanted to remember.

The grass was dewy. The sky was blue. The air was crisp. And your laugh was music. 

It was easy to spend hours outside with you. Whether you were playing tag or looking for honeysuckle flowers to snack on, it never really mattered. Not as long as you were there. Today, Seungcheol had implored you to lay on the grass beside him to find shapes among the rolling clouds.

You had indulged him for a while, and he was thankful. While you were rambling on about how clouds were actually extremely heavy, he turned to look at you. You were more radiant than the sun and he couldn’t help but stare. Somewhere among dancing elephants, ballerinas, and coffee pots, Seungcheol could also see an infinite number of days spent in your light. You turned to look at him with a gentle smile and Seungcheol felt himself blush. You chuckled softly before sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest. 

“Cheollie,” you began. “My mom said we’ve gotta stop getting stains on our clothes. She said she won’t let us be friends anymore if she has to replace another pair of grass-stained jeans.” You stood up and offered your hand out to help him up. Although he definitely didn’t need you to help him up, he took the opportunity to imagine what it would be like to have your fingers entwined in his. So he slipped his hand in yours and the two of you stood from where you were seated on the grassy hill that sat behind both of your houses. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully. He knew as well as you did that your mother’s threats were empty. She adored him, and made it evident every time he came over. As soon as you would walk through the door with him in tow, the sweet and almost sickly scent of apple pie wafted through the house to greet the two of you, which he would grin at in response. You swore Seungcheol was your mom’s favorite child, even though he was only your neighbor. But his charm never failed to get him on everyone’s good side. “I gotta go home anyway, I invited the new kid over to my house. He seemed like he needed a friend,” Seungcheol added.

Your face lit up in response. “Mingyu, right?” you questioned as the two of you walked down the hill back to Seungcheol’s house. Mingyu had transferred to your school recently and was in your advanced calculus class and although he sat behind you, you had yet to strike up a conversation with him. He mostly kept to himself, and spent most of the class with his face buried in his work, drawing small doodles in the margins to while away the minutes, and you had no desire to interrupt. “He sits behind me in calculus, which you would know if you would actually show up to class, dork.” you playfully shoved Seungcheol as the two of you reached his front porch.

Seungcheol laughed in response as he twisted the key to unlock the door. “Okay, to be fair, I don’t think I need to know how to factor derivatives to get through life,” he argued. “But anyway, do you wanna stay for a bit? Mingyu should be here soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Seungcheol was quick to open the door to reveal a nervous looking Mingyu. “Hey dude, come on in,” Seungcheol greeted, offering a comforting smile to Mingyu and gesturing into the house. “My friend is here, I hope you don’t mind.” You waved politely at the sound of your name and glanced at Mingyu long enough to notice him smiling sweetly at you, causing a blush to seep into your cheeks. This was the first time you really got to notice the twinkle in Mingyu’s  eyes, without the fluorescent lights of the classroom washing them out.

“Yeah, we have literature together, right?” Mingyu asked, walking over to shake your hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Your hair smells nice,” he blurted out before adding quickly, “at least I’ve noticed from sitting behind you, sorry that’s weird isn’t it?” His eyebrows scrunched together as he smiled apologetically, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckled shyly. “Thanks.” You and Mingyu stood in front of each other for a few seconds, lost in each other’s presence, until your bubble was popped by a cough from Seungcheol. You jumped at the sound, and Mingyu smiled at you in amusement, but Seungcheol had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Uh, I’ll go get us some snacks,” Seuncheol cleared his throat, offering a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. He stopped and stared at the fridge, looking at all of the photos of the two of you that were hung up by the souvenir magnets you’d gotten him on your trip to Japan. Polaroids of the two of you making silly faces on Seungcheol’s 13th birthday, photobooth strips of him kissing your cheek from the mall two weeks ago, and pictures of you both at the homecoming dance last year. All of those were times he wished he told you how he felt, but let the fear of rejection push him down, and he kept them up as a reminder of his feelings. Seungcheol stared at the pictures long enough to see himself be replaced by the new kid making you laugh right then.

Seungcheol’s trip down memory lane was interrupted by the painful screech of microphone feedback and he turned his head to the stage in time to see the happy couple waving right at him. He waved back and the couple shared a loving look and a quick kiss before you cleared your throat. “We just wanted to say some quick “thank you”s and then we’ll get back to the dancing, sound good?” The crowd cheered in response and she chuckled before continuing. “Well first, thank you mom, for being there for me for all of this. It was definitely stressful, but you are my rock, and you keep me sane. Thank you for showing me what love is and how to share it with others, because without it, I wouldn’t be up here now. And last, but certainly not least, thank you for the apple pie. It was delicious.” 

The crowd laughed in agreement, and Seungcheol took another sip of his whiskey. He looked over to the dessert table to see a few small tins of apple pie still left uneaten and was immediately hit with the sharp pang of wistful nostalgia, not in the least bit dulled by the alcohol. The couple continued to list off names, but he tuned their voices out. Until he heard his name.

“And finally, thank you, Seungcheol. You are really the root of all of this, and I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for being my best friend, and introducing me to my soulmate. I wouldn’t have ever gathered the courage to speak to the love of my life without you, and for that you deserve the biggest thanks.” Seungcheol plastered a sympathetic smile on his face as he met Mingyu’s eyes. “I love you, man.”

Seungcheol raised his glass in a toast while his dark eyes flickered between the two of you. He saw you look up at your now-husband with adoration in your eyes. He saw the sincerity and gratitude in Mingyu’s. He saw the solitude in your interlocked fingers. Then he decided he’d rather go blind.

taglist: @yksthings @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

[disruptivevoib]

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.

[just-null]

your yan!noritoshi is so wisnwonwpwjw RAAAHHHH going absolutely feral ... i want him . ive had so many thoughts abt him as like a yandere n then i saw your art n absolutely lost it /pos

IM ALL EARS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD FUCK OKAY, HOLD ON, I ALSO HAVE SOME RAMBLES AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YANDERE NORITOSHI BUT IM GOING TO PUT THEM UNDER THE CUT.

I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR UNLEASHING MY TJOUGHTS OFFICER. IT WAS MY GLORIOUS CULT MEMBER RIGHT HERE.

MERRY OCTOBER YALL

[disclaimer: im not a writer, but I want to get better. think of this as my practice. it ended up being so fucking long, but i swear it's just rambles, not a fic]

[warning for blood under the cut? keep that in mind for future posts]

OKAY LETS GO.

Bro ok so. if I'm not too delusional (yet) and don’t see him as a yandere, then this guy (Noritoshi) is still a strict fuck. he'd put you on the same level of importance as his clan if not a bit higher. but only by a bit. Your relationship would gradually bloom into something meaningful to him that he’d cherish you wholeheartedly. Only then would you grow in importance to Noritoshi significantly. He'd keep his resolve and all those healthy green flags. Because honestly? Noritoshi is just a green flag, he's so sweet..

But let's twist that into a yandere setting. I don't even need to twist too much, Noritoshi as a yandere is way too fitting.

Noritoshi was abandoned by his mother as a child, thereby fueling his lifelong goals to do as she said and bring her back. He didn't even think on his own accord, nor did he try to find a different way, or even follow her! He accepted his fate and made it his mission to accomplish the goal he was given. Despite the intense pressure of his worth being determined by an ability he was born with and the high expectations from the Kamo clan, he perseveres. That is until [spoilers] Noritoshi is exiled by his clan because of some Kenajku shit. All his hard work and future goals were ripped away from him without a second thought in an instant. Noritoshi was always the second thought time and time again, and now left as a man with nothing but the failure of his desired future.

That wasn't even the yandere part, that was all canon, what the fuck.

Yandere Noritoshi is the type to cling to scraps... He reminds me of an obsessive and protective yandere. obsessive about you because you become his everything.. his goal, his will to keep going, the light at the end of the tunnel. he wants all of you, from the best parts of you to your worst. He's also protective, because he cant handle losing yet another person so important to him. He'd rather tear himself apart than lose you.

He also seems mostly self-aware but can overthink to the point of delusion. For example, you pat him on the back and tell him he did a great job on something. He knows it's nothing to dwell on, but why does he feel like there's more to your words? Should he read in between the lines? but there's only one line! From then on, his mind would reel until he landed on a favorable conclusion. You meant that he was the only one who did great. The others paled in comparison in your eyes therefore you must favor Noritoshi in some way.. right?

Since Noritoshi was pretty deprived of any emotional support, you won't even have to try too hard to get his heart thumping. If you were to give him even just a bit more attention and care than the average person, like making sure he's eating alright or remarking that he's paler than usual after restocking his blood bags, he's hooked. He's self-aware enough to realize his blooming fondness for you is one-sided, so he simply admires you. that is, at the start. Note that Noritoshi is still new to these feelings so he's.. awkward. It's really cute.

Though these moments were cute to you, they slowly became horribly blissful to Noritoshi. Poor you, completely unaware of how you're slowly corrupting him in, what he thinks, is the best way possible just by giving him your attention. He thinks you're the last and only person still believing in him, so much so that everything and everyone else slowly becomes minuscule in the grand seam of things. He feels happy around you, like he matters, like he has someone to trust, like he has someone who won't abandon him. Because of this, he sees you as a new goal. A new hope. Failing you is not an option. Disappointing you is not an option. Hell, even a frown from you is unacceptable in his eyes.

Noritoshi tries to cling to you at this point in his own way... He enjoys it when you speak to him, or even sit next to him, so much so that he seeks you out when you're not there. You'd feel eyes boring holes into the back of your head, a sense of being followed, sometimes seeing your shadow accompanied by another, every time you turn around to be surprised by a familiar face. His footsteps are so quiet that you barely notice Noritoshi walking around.

Unfortunately, due to Noritoshi’s inexperience, the only way he knows how to impress people is by being “perfect” a.k.a. his strict, pain in the ass, annoying heir shtick. He would be the type to get on your case, scold, coddle, nitpick, correct you, and practically look like he's trying to bully you when in reality he's trying to hear praise from you for "helping" you. He’s waiting for you to see the affection and adoration behind his nagging, is he not being obvious enough? oh well, at least your eyes are on him for now. When most people in Noritoshi's life have either put him second or flat-out abandoned him, he's satisfied with anything he can get from you. Though he'd prefer praise, the thought of your attention being given to another even for a second makes his stomach feel like it's tying in knots, so he settles for your annoyed tuts and glares.

Of course, after a while, you'd get tired of this and tell him to knock it off. Or some variation of what a decent human being would do like, “Do whatever you want, but don't meddle in people's business.”

You KNOW he's going to be picking that apart in the middle of the night while looking up at the ceiling. What did you mean by that? Do you mean ANYTHING he wants? As long as he doesn’t bother anyone? Were you talking about yourself and everyone in general? Were you talking about someone specific? Did you leave it up for him to decide? Thoughts and questions circle in his head until he twists your words enough into something that he favors again. Ah, you allow him to do whatever he wants so long as he doesn't get in your way. But he wants to be alongside you... Did you mean in your way to the point of annoyance? Noted. From then on, Noritoshi's strictness softened into light nagging and bearable hovering. He'd knock it off completely through gritted teeth and furrowed brows if you threatened him with the silent treatment. He'll slowly start it up again until you begin ignoring him, only then will he get the hint and relax a bit. only until next time, of course.

The intensity of Noritoshi's coddling can fluctuate depending on your actions. (recklessness, obedience, shyness, etc.) it's his love language.

It's a completely different story if someone else decides to nag you as Noritoshi does... If someone scolds you, Noritoshi's on the offense. He's known for his occasional bluntness and sassy remarks, but this time... He's contradicting himself all in an attempt to get the other person to back away. If the one scolding you brings up points Noritoshi used in the past, he firmly denies them all and stands by your side. He'd rather sound hypocritical than let someone else care for you the way he does. Noritoshi stands in front of you, almost guarding you with his body and begins his barrage of deflective comments through his clenched jaw such as “That's not your place to say” “Shut it, they did no wrong.” “You don't know the reason why they did so, leave them alone.” and other things similar to that. Jeez, take your advice Noritoshi.. He’d argue and become antagonistic towards someone scolding you, even if it's exactly what he was about to do.

The same goes for someone who tries to be gentle with you to a lesser degree. It's nice that people see how wonderful you are, but having your smiles and kind words directed at anyone else other than Noritoshi is... Upsetting. The resentment gradually pools in the pit of his stomach and suddenly finds himself impulsively moving towards you and this "friend." He stands in between you and the kind person, trying his best to conceal his sneers. He wants nothing more than to have the third party get swallowed up by the ground or hit by a car, but he keeps his composure. Noritoshi sternly states how he’ll handle everything from then on and gives the third party a glare that's much more hateful than usual… Finally! Noritoshi has you to himself again! All is right in the world once more...

Noritoshi has always been on a very tight rope... Any wrong step and it’s going to snap. The more Noritoshi gets attached to you, the easier it is to convince himself that it's okay to cross certain lines to make sure you're safe with him. Even if that line he’s crossing, includes murder. It'd happen quicker if he caught feelings after the whole incident with the Kamo clan. You'd be the only thing he has left, the only thing he'd cling onto with every fiber of his being, emotionally and sometimes physically.

And like every fairy tale, a problem unconventionally shows itself much to Noritoshi's dismay... Noritoshi is shown to be prideful at times. Because of this, he'd try to conceal his more embarrassing emotions and reactions towards you. He wants to be seen as someone strong you can rely on, a steady pillar to your stability, someone who will do anything you wish at the drop of a hat, but it’s almost impossible to execute when he feels like he's nothing but putty in your hands at the slightest sign of positive reciprocation.

If Noritoshi felt his face heating up because your laugh caught him off guard, he'd turn his head to hide how that simple action made him nearly melt into mush. If your hand brushed against his, he'd quickly swipe it away. Not because he doesn't want to touch you, but because you'd feel how shaky and sweaty his palms got with just a graze. Noritoshi's gaze always lingers on his bow if you ever touch it causing his aim to decline in accuracy significantly.

He mentally curses himself out every time he pulls away from you because he knows he's sending mixed signals. Noritoshi loves you endlessly, but please spare his fragile heart. Your presence overwhelms him like no other, and he's utterly conflicted on how to act. He can handle being by your side like he wants, but the second your 100% focus is on him and only him, he’ll start to squirm under your gaze. Noritoshi wants to impress you! Stop being so mesmerizing for just a second so he can gather his thoughts and not embarrass himself! A-ah, but don't look away!!!

Tl;dr Noritoshi as a yandere is needy and petty as hell, but will explode if he gets an ounce of affection! He’s also! A creepy hopeless romantic who sends you mixed signals!

[sunnynwanda]

How about a villain who fell inlove with a sidekick hero?

Villain & Sidekick

"Well, well, well." Sidekick can feel Villain's voice hitting their back and penetrating their spine. It ricochets off the walls, prickling their skin and stilling them in place in the middle of the dark corridor. "If it isn't my favourite wannabe hero!"

They should be used to the taunting intonations and mocking words by now, but somehow they are not. Hero would laugh in their face for such weakness of emotion. Or maybe they would get an educational beating instead. Sidekick did not understand how that was supposed to harden them.

"Where's your boss, darling?" Villain inquires, slowly strutting towards them. Sidekick refuses to turn around, determined to keep up appearances in case they decide to leave now. Villain would never know why they came in the first place. "You don't actually think you can defy me alone, do you?"

Not that they would fight Sidekick, ever. Mostly for the purpose of maintaining their reputation, but also because they couldn't bring themselves to hurt them. In fact, they were certain to maim anyone who did. Like that time Hero backhand slapped Sidekick amidst the battle for something they had no control over. Villain never forgot the way the poor creature stumbled back and landed on the floor, their hand pressed to their cheek. Needless to say, Villain made sure to wipe said floor with Hero's pathetic face that day, just to make them feel the same pain and humiliation.

Villain shakes their head, trying to focus on the situation at hand. They hum to themselves, noticing the tension in their favourite enemy's shoulders. Something's wrong. They round Sidekick and stop a few steps away, allowing their eyes to roam all over their body. Something's very wrong.

"Sidekick?" When they don't meet their gaze, Villain takes a step closer. "What's wrong?"

"I couldn't go home." The words are barely above a whisper. Villain moves closer, reaching for the switch to turn the lights on. "Hero wouldn't understand."

When the light illuminates their face all of a sudden, Sidekick squints and attempts to look away to hide their face. Villain catches their wrist, drawing them closer and hooking a finger under their chin to get a proper look. That's when their heart drops down to their feet. Or Sidekick's feet. They don't even know anymore.

"Who did this to you?" Villain's voice is now laced with worry that they cannot explain to the person in front of them. Not that it matters when said person is beaten and buttered, with cuts and bruises littering their beautiful face. Villain wants to kiss each and every one of those wounds until nothing hurts anymore. "Hero?"

Sidekick shakes their head, biting into their split lip. They cannot fathom why they even decided to come here. Why was it Villain and not their boss who made them feel safe and comforted? Villain exhales loudly, willing the storm within themselves to calm. It does not, but they manage to lift a shaking hand and wipe a drop of blood off Sidekick's cheekbone before speaking again.

"My henchmen?" When Sidekick looks up at them with watery eyes, Villain can no longer suppress the angered growl rambling in their chest. They have made it blatantly clear that no one was allowed to lay a finger on Sidekick, let alone beat them to such a state.

"I'm gonna rip them to shreds." They say, wrath flaring behind their eyes. Sidekick attempts to say something, but Villain cuts them off with a finger pressed to their lips. "And then I'm gonna destroy your boss."

It's not a threat. Sidekick can see that much. It's a promise. One that they know Villain can keep. They shake their head no, leaning into Villain's embrace and resting their head against their chest.

"I'm going to punish them whether you like it or not," Villain sighs, picking them up and heading towards their bathroom. "But we'll talk about it in the morning."

Thank you for the request, lovely anon! I had a blast writing this :)

Masterlist

[peachesandcreames]

What Are We?

A/N: a fluffy fic with Jake and Y/N. Some parental angst. Mentions of death. Alcohol consumption. Jake being cocky but also boyfriend material. That man is a warning, mmkay. Enter at your own risk. You and only you are responsible for your reading material. Likes, hearts, comments and reblogs are definitely appreciated ❤ happy reading everyone!!!

Requested? No. This idea has been kicking around in my head for a while and it'll probably flop and I'm ok with that but at least I got it out of my head and down onto paper so to speak. Maybe a part two depending on how well this does and if I'm feeling creative 🤔

You moved to San Diego to be closer to your older sister who was stationed at North Island Naval Air Station. It was under less than ideal circumstances, your parents passing away unexpectedly and your sister Nat came back home to help you with the funerals and selling your parents house and packing everything up. She found the both of you a cute little two bedroom bungalow right on the beach. So while your sister got to hang out with hot pilots all day you got to stay at home and unpack and get the house set up. You decided to just get your room in working order and then try to find a restaurant for lunch and drinks.

You're standing in your room, looking at yourself in the full length mirror. You decided on a cute pair of cut off shorts and a tank top paired with a cute pair of beachy flip flops. The salty ocean air is coming through your second floor bedroom window and you put up light purple breezy curtains. You definitely lucked out and got the best bedroom, all by yourself on the second floor and facing the ocean. You loved waking up with the sound of the ocean waves crashing on the beach and the sun filtering through the gauzy curtains.

You put your still wet hair in a loose braid, grabbed your purse and bounced down the stairs. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror you grabbed your keys and locked the door. You decided to go to The Hard Deck for two simple reasons: your sister said that it was the go to place to see and be seen and it was in walking distance if you decided to have a drink with lunch today. You stepped outside and slid your oversized glasses off your head and onto your nose and took off in the direction of the bar. You made it in about 15 minutes and let yourself into the cool, dark interior of the mostly empty bar.

Penny was behind the bar washing some glasses and Amelia was sitting on the opposite side, notebooks and textbooks spread all over the top of the bar. They both looked up at you as the bell above the door signaled your arrival. They smiled at you and Amelia jumped up and ran to give you a hug. "Y/N! I missed you so much!! I want to come over and help you set up the new place."

You look over at Penny and she shrugs and nods. "I had an idea but you might want to run it past Phoenix first." You slung your arm around Amelia and steered her back towards the bar and sat next to her. "What's your idea, Pen?" She finished what she was doing and made her way towards you. "I thought that we could get the squadron to pitch in and help you out, if you want. "

You mulled it over and at your look of uncertainty Amelia interjected. "Maverick would totally want to pitch in and the others will fall in." At your questioning look Penny filled in the blanks. "Rooster, Hangman, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, Coyote and obviously Phoenix. We'll make it a whole day! It'll be so much fun!!" Amelia clapped with excitement and you couldn't help but smile because of their enthusiasm.

You placed an order for southwestern grilled chicken wrap and a strawberry mojito and sat back down next to Amelia and you two started talking about what you wanted to do while you're here. You didn't consider this place to be home but maybe it could be. You liked the idea of putting roots down and staying in one place for the foreseeable future. Amelia was rambling on about all of the fun things that you could do this summer and you were honestly only half listening to her when the bell above the door signaled the arrival of your sister leading the way with a bunch of ridiculously tall, hot and insanely in shape men. Maverick made his way to the bar and dropped a kiss on Amelia's forehead.

"Hey Pete," you stood up and made your way to where he was standing and he pulled you into a hug. "Hey kiddo, how are you holding up?" You mumbled into his shoulder "I'm ok." You could feel him nod his head and he let you end the hug and watched him greet Penny with a kiss. Amelia rolled her eyes and started making gagging noises but you thought that it was really sweet. You got lost in thought about your last relationship and how long it's been when you heard your sister say "let me introduce you."

You looked up in time to see your sister making her way through the growing crowd and you stood up to meet her half way with a hug. You'd be lost without her and she knows it. Looking over her shoulder you see a group of guys hovering on the outside of the bar. Phoenix follows your gaze and says "this is my backseater Bob," you smile politely and shake the shy man's hand. He's adorable in his glasses and you tell him as much.

A shy smile creeps over his features and you thank him for always having Nat's back. "Always," he said just loud enough for you and Nat to hear him. "I like him," you whispered to Nat. "He's definitely a keeper," she said to you as she bumped shoulders with Bob. She introduced you to the rest of the squadron: Rooster was rocking the deadly combo of 80s pornstache and hawaiian shirt but oddly enough it worked for him and you let him know that.

"Hey Hawaii 5-0, you wanna buy me a drink?" You shouted at Rooster across the bar and he gave you an incredulous look and ambled over to you. "I got you, what you want sweetheart?" You looked up at him and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He gave you a cheeky grin and told Penny what you wanted. Penny looked at you and arched her eyebrow and gave you a knowing look. Nat introduced you to the rest of the squad: Fanboy and Payback were too cute for words and Coyote was flying solo.

Phoenix was chatting with Bob and some civilians while you're talking with Rooster and the guys Penny calls out " one screaming orgasm cocktail for Y/N!" You can feel all the eyes on you as a blush crawled up your neck and you heard a texas drawl behind you "someone called my name?" You turned around and almost bumped into the most gorgeous man that you ever saw. Over six feet tall, sandy blond hair and the greenest eyes that you just wanted to get lost in. "Cat got your tongue?" The blond man asked as he winked at you and handed you your drink.

Your fingers briefly touched and the alcohol was giving you liquid courage you took the drink and downed it a few gulps. You glanced over at your sister who was preoccupied with the hottie who was laying it on thick and you suddenly felt flustered and needed some fresh air. He must have sensed that you needed to get out of here because you watched him pay for your drink and let Phoenix know that you'd be with him. You watched as he walked towards you and said " let's get out of here, yeah?" You placed your hand on his chest "whoa cowboy, I don't even know your name. " He grinned down at you and you noticed his dimples for the first time.

"Name's Jake, Sweetheart. What's your name?" You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself. "Y/N Trace." Jake gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips. "It's nice to meet you, " you said. "The pleasure is all mine, Y/N." You took a page from Jake's book and winked at him. "Not yet but it will be. "

Penny must have noticed the smoldering stare between the two of you. "Get a room you two!!" Your face started to feel warm and Jake pointed to the sign above the bar. Penny looked over her shoulder at the sign and back to you and Jake. "Rules are rules, Pen." With all eyes on Penny, Jake placed his hand on your lower back and led you to the patio where the sun was just starting to set.

You couldn't help but be mesmerized by the different beautiful colors in the sky. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" You asked Jake and you turned to look at him to see if he was watching the sunset but he was watching you. "Definitely stunning. " He noticed you visibly gulp because his eyes were glued to you. "Are we talking about the same thing?"

Jake gave you a shy smile and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. "I think that what's in front of me is pretty damn beautiful." You felt yourself shiver in the growing darkness but you honestly didn't know if it was because of the cold weather seeping in from the ocean or from Jake's flirty words. Jake noticed you shiver and slipped his black bomber jacket around your shoulders. "You're a charmer, Jake Seresin. "

"Can I take you home, please?" He offered you his arm and you slipped into his jacket and caught the smell of his cologne mixed in with the salty ocean air. You stepped closer to him and linked arms as you took off in the direction of your house. You walked in comfortable silence for a bit, you just wanted to remember this moment. As you turned onto your block and your house came into view you started fumbling with your purse trying to get your keys out. "Here, let me."

Jake whispered quietly as he gently took your purse from you and found your keys and the one labeled home. "Thank you, " you mumbled into his shoulder and he guided you up the stairs and you winced at the motion actived light as Jake unlocked your front door and helped you inside, he held you steady as you slipped off your sandals. He closed the door and locked it behind you. He watched you on unsteady feet as you tried to get upstairs. He was worried that you were going to fall or hurt yourself so he came up behind you and picked you up like you weighed next to nothing.

Your head lolled against his chest and he walked down to the last door on the right and toed it open. He sat you down gently at the foot of your bed and pulled down the covers for you. You smiled up at him lazily and he looked around your room. He walked over to your dresser and opened the top drawer and got a quick glimpse into your panty drawer and slammed it shut. You laughed at the expression on his face and said that your pajamas were in the third drawer, he pulled it open and handed you a pair of booty shorts and a tank top.

You took the clothing from him and went into your closet to change. Jake walked down the hall to the bathroom that he passed on the way and got you a glass of water and some headache medicine. He came back to find you snuggled up under your comforter. You smiled at each other and you made grabby motions for him and he sat down next to you and interlocked your fingers. "Do you want to stay?" Jake leaned over and kissed your forehead.

"As tempting as your offer is I really don't want to deal with your pissed off sister. " You chuckled into your blanket and he stood up and you whined as he let go of your hand. "I don't want this day to end, " you muttered as you fell asleep to Jake whispering "we'll make another one just like it tomorrow. " He quietly made his way out of your room, leaving your door slighty ajar. He was letting himself out of your house as Phoenix was coming up the walkway with her shoes in hand.

The silence was extremely awkward as they passed each other with a nod of acknowledgement. Phoenix turned around to see Jake's back as he walked back towards The Hard Deck where he left his car. "Hurt her and I'll end you, Seresin. Y/N took the passing of our parents really hard and she's vulnerable right now." Jake turned to look at Phoenix and gave her a salute as he turned back around and continued on his way.

The night breeze carried back his words "wouldn't dream of it, boss." Phoenix barely heard his words and it brought a smile to her face. It's all that she wanted for you, for you to be happy and if being with Jake made you happy that's all that matters. Phoenix shut and locked the door and quietly crept into your room. She saw that Jake had helped you change into pajamas and left out water and pain relivers for you.

It helped to put Phoenix at ease about Jake's intentions towards you. She looked down lovingly at you and brushed the hair off of your forehead. She kissed your forehead and pulled the blankets up and around your shoulders. She hoped that you would fall in love with San Diego and stay with her and if Jake helped her out then she was definitely okay with him sticking around.

~fin~ for now😉

@so-she-reads

[sweetvamp03]

All I Want is You

Word Count: 1795

Sam Winchester x Female Reader - No Y/N - Mostly fluff - Implied Smut - Talk of death

Summary: With all that's been going on in your and Sam's lives as hunters, you have to confess your worries to him; hoping he shares your concerns.

As you lay beneath the cream comforter, you can feel an arm coming from behind, wrapping around your bare waist. You didn't have to open your eyes to know who it was. "Mm, morning Sam" you grinned as you became aware of his toned chest pressed to your back. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Goodmorning beautiful", he planted a kiss on your jaw and returned to his previous position, head on your pillow rather than his own; he always seemed to make it over to your side of the bed by the morning, you didn't mind sharing though.

Every morning felt better than the last, you were excited to wake up each day and see Sam Winchester laying next to you. It didn't matter how long you two had been together, there would always be butterflies in your stomach when your sleepy eyes met his. You moved your hand up to intertwine with his, he reciprocated with a tight squeeze. Even though you were happier than you had ever been before, there was still something that constantly popped into your mind, making the butterflies turn into crows, pecking at your flesh, trying to gnaw their way out. You hadn't brought it up to Sam, it seemed a shame to ruin perfect moments, but every moment with him was perfect. Letting out a small sigh, you started, "Hey Sam-".

"What's wrong baby?" he sat up, hands still joined, and leaned over to see your face. "Nothing" You replied, not wanting to worry him. "It's just- have you ever thought about the future? I mean our future, what it will look like." you began to probe him, to see if you shared any of the same worries.

"Yeah, well I mean I think about it all the time. Do you?" he curiously asked, his brows furrowing.

"I do, I just wanted to know what you see when you think about it."

"Oh, well, hm..." he trailed off trying to think of the words. "I see us here in Kansas, in a nice house with a big backyard. A cat and maybe a dog-" You intererupted his sentance with a light chuckle. He knew you weren't really a dog person, but he had been trying to convert you. He continued, "Or no dog, just a cat" a tiny smirk emerged unto his face. "We're married and maybe have a kid or two. I work a boring mundane job in town, and our house has a huge office that you can use to write in. And theres a porch-swing out front, and every night we sit out, you wrapped in my arms, as I read to you while we drink tea."

You rolled over to face the man who had just spilled his heart out to you. Gazing in his eyes, you wanted nothing more than that life he had imagined for the both of you. But you were scared that you may never get it. He could see the sadness overcome your features. "Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Did I say something? We don't need a dog, or kids for that matter." he rambled.

"No, no it's not that. It's just-" you trailed off, not wanting to ruin this beautiful moment. Sam cupped your face with his large hands, giving you the puppy dog eyes that would coax anyone out of their deepest darkest secret. You began to explain, "Sometimes I just get worried. Worried that we're never gonna have that. That- that- I'm not gonna have that." He cocked his head to the side giving you a puzzled look. "I just mean- I love you baby, you know how much I love you. But the people that you love don't tend to make it out of this unscathed. I'm not afraid of dying, really I'm not. I'm afraid of leaving you."

His confused expression changed to sadness as he started to reply, "Sweetheart, I swear I will never let anything happen to you. I promise. I would die for you, you know that."

"I know Sam, but I don't want you to. I don't want either of us to die. That's the problem. I don't want to leave you but I also don't want to lose you. But with everything Chuck has done, it feels like it's inevitable. And it's selfish- I want you with me, I don't want to die and have you go fall in love with another girl. That's our house and our dog- that we can get, because I know how much you want one baby- but it's awful, I should want the best for you, right? I just want to make it through this so badly Sam, but I'm scared." you blurted out your speech that you had been holding in for months.

Sam grabbed you up into his arms and buried your face in his chest, holding the back of your head so you were as close as could be. He clung onto you like he never wanted to let go, and part of you was hoping that he wouldn't. "I'm scared too. I know I don't show it but I am. All I want is you, and I'll do whatever I have to to make it happen."

You were trying so hard to keep it together, but his words made you unravel, a few tears escaping. He pet your hair to try and calm you. He held you like that for a few minutes before you decided to pull away, wanting to read his face. He looked sad but resigned. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and as he pulled away you could see a lightbulb go off over his head. Sitting up, he reached over to his nightstand drawer, "Now, I was planning a more romantic evening to do this, but I think now is good too." he picked out a little black velvet box and turned back to face you. Sitting up, you felt like this was all a dream and maybe you had never woken up at all. "Sam- What is that?" You were not sure if you were imagining things. "Baby, I know that it's been tough and that things haven't really gone our way lately, but I know for certain that this is one thing that we can do right. So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?" he couldn't help but smile as the words escaped his mouth.

"Yes!" you yelled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, squeezing him tighter than he had been before. Holding him in the hug, you felt nothing but the good butterflies fluttering around. "Uh do you want to see the ring first?" He laughed out. Pulling back, you rolled your eyes at him, "It could be a ring pop for all I care."

Grinning ear to ear, he took the ring out of the box and placed it on your finger. You looked at it admiringly, it was beautiful, you never wanted to take it off. "It antique, from the late 1800's, it belonged to one of the first few women doctors here in America. She actually became a doctor after she was married, and her husband supported her decision and was proud of her."

"It's gorgeous, and the story is beautiful. It's perfect Sam, you're perfect." You planted a kiss on his lips before returning your gaze to the ring. It was a stunning gold band, with a perfectly cut ruby surrounded by little shiny diamonds. Sam knew you so well, he knew you didn't like most of the jewelry they make nowadays, and prefered something with a history. You couldn't believe it. You were engaged to Sam Winchester. Looking back at him, a devious look painted your face. You moved around in the bed to straddle his lap. Hands pressed to his chiseled chest, you left kisses up and down his neck. His hands were running all throughout your hair, then down your back. Your lips moved up to meet his as you joined in slow passionate movements. Fidgeting with your bra clasp, he managed to remove it quicker than usual, while your hands were making their way down to slide his boxers off.

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Laying curled up around Sam, your head tucked under his chin, you took a peek at the alarm clock on his side of the room, realizing it was nearly 11am. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you in bed past 9!"

Sam scoffed. "Well I didn't sleep until 11, I still woke up early, I just- got distracted." he smiled at you, and you realized you had never seen him that happy before. "How's about we make some breakfast- or I guess brunch at this point?" you suggested.

"I'll go make us something, you can stay here." he offered. But you weren't having it, "Nuh-uh, I'm coming to help." you lept out of the bed and grabbed one of Sam's t-shirts out of the dresser, throwing it on and prancing out the door.

"Wait for me" you heard him call as you left the room. He caught up to you after he was dressed, grabbing your hand as you pulled him along to the main entry room of the bunker. There you were met with Dean, Cas, and Jack, sitting around the table. Dean and Cas were reading books, while Jack was fixated on Sam's Ipad, playing some game he found yesterday. You stopped in your tracks, making Sam nearly trample you. The three men looked up from their respective activities. "Hey guys" You couldn't help but grin like an idiot. "Someone looks happy" Dean pointed out.

"We have some news to tell you guys- we're engaged!" Sam blurted out, unable to contain his excitement. You threw your hand out to show the ring as proof of the event. All three boys jumped up and ran to give you both hugs and congratulations. Dean took a step back and formed another thought, "So that's what those happy noises were about, I just thought Sammy had learned to-" You cut Dean off with a playfull push on the shoulder and an eyeroll. "Enough Dean! And just so you know, Sammy does know how to-" This time Sam was cutting you off, "Whoah, Whoah, Whoah." He pulled you tight beside him, trying not to turn red.

"Wait- what does Sam know how to do?" Jack piped up. And all four of you adults suddenly remembered his real age. You tried to change the subject, "Oh nothing, we were just about to make some brunch, any takers?".

They all agreed enthusiastically, so you and Sam started towards the kitchen. "Come on, Fiance" you linger on the word, thinking of your future together that has already started.

[wolfythewitch]

Wolfy, you have not only dragged me into the EPICS, but also now into the prince of Egypt (I'm on my first watch) I did not expect it to be this good, although I'm a little confused on what's going on This is infact an invitation so you can ramble if you please yes yes

HI YES PRINCE OF EGYPT INCREDIBLE MOVIE

It details the story of Moses, specifically found in the book of Exodus (aka, a departure or emigration), and also the story of Passover, a Jewish tradition. If any of my Jewish followers want to talk about that, feel free! My knowledge is very surface level and mostly from what I've read from the bible.

But so yeah at that time, the Hebrew people were slaves under the Egyptian rule, but they were multiplying too much and the pharaoh got nervous. So he ordered that any infant child be taken and thrown into the river. Moses was a baby at that time, and so he would've met the criteria of baby throwing. His mother did not vibe with that order and took Moses, placed him in a waterproof basket, and sent him down the river to hopefully find a better future than drowning. He ends up floating by the royal palace and gets found by the princess, daughter of the pharaoh(tho in the movie they changed her to be the wife instead) who takes a liking to him and decides to adopt him. In the bible, Miriam (his sister who the mother sends to follow him) asks the princess if she'd like a nursemaid, claiming to know someone (that someone being Moses' mother), and the princess agrees, so Moses gets to be with his family for a few years before going back to the palace. In the movie they don't have that and he's taken in directly with Miriam just praying he be safe and come back to them one day. So it's not very explicit in the bible but love the relationship between him and Rameses (I don't think he was actually named in the bible, but historians figured it was him based on contextual evidence) godbless and then he accidentally kills a guy and runs away. He meets tzipporah and his family and gets welcomed in and married and stuff. So the burning bush. Moses' destiny, if you will, is to save his people, and God tells him as much. Go back to Egypt and free his people. Moses doesn't think himself up to it but God says he'll be with him. So he goes back and does. Rameses refuses because that's his entire workforce, and in retaliation God sends down the 10 plagues. With each plague, Rameses hardens his heart and he refused to let Moses' people go. Until the tenth and final plague, the death of the firstborn. Any household with lamb's blood painted on their doorpost, the angel of death will pass over (AYEEE Passover). The Hebrews knew this but the Egyptians did not. Finally, at the death of his own son, Rameses tells Moses that his people are free.

They take their stuff and go. Thing is, to be actually free, they'd have to cross the wilderness. But there's a pesky sea blocking their way, which isn't very great for the whole crossing the wilderness thing. Also, the Egyptians had a change of heart and are going to get them back. So they're trapped between the sea and the enemy. God sends down a pillar of fire to stall them (though iirc in the bible it's like a cloud of darkness and a pillar of light depending on who you were) and while that's happening, Moses goes over and strikes his staff into the water. And the red sea parts before him, giving them a straight path across. You know the rest, with the people crossing and the waters coming down to drown the army and stuff. So now they're officially free from the Egyptians! But they're not done yet, because the main goal is to reach the Promised Land, and Moses is designated to lead them. They do skip ahead a few chapters and have Moses already grab the two stone tablets with the ten commandments, that doesn't happen until later and involves a golden calf haha

[givemea-dam-break]

okay so, consider this: jealous George

hasn't been done much, and jealousy is one of my favourite tropes. I'm thinking friends to lovers (obv) and you're free to make it as angsty as possible, as long as we get a happy ending :))) and you know what would probably hurt him most? When he's jealous of Lockwood bc he gets along so well with reader, maybe they just have a borderline-flirty dynamic (all platonic ofc) and George just has to watch and know he's never gonna be able to be like this (angst angst angst)

AND to make it MORE angsty maybe reader is really reserved around george but only bc she is so nervous (he doesn't know that ofc!!)

AND how about George confides in Lucy at some point that he thinks lockwood and reader might be into each other and she's like "uh yeah no, lockwood and I are dating"

Just throw in whatever cliché trope you can think of in there, i love them all

a/n: I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OMFG YES THANK YOU!!!!!! jealousy is also one of my favourite tropes it’s great but i haven't actually written it all that much so i hope you enjoy! this isn't very angsty because i actually struggled with the plot for this, but hopefully you still like it lol

warnings: mild language words: 3.9K female reader taglist: @flashbackwhenyoumetme @irisesforyoureyes @aayeroace @waitingforthesunrise @ettadear @mirrorballdickinson @ella23116 (let me know if you want added to my taglist!)

Touch - George Karim

George had a habit of staying up late on nights where it was unnecessary.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t sleep, but rather the fact that he didn’t want to until he was sure that everything was all right. When the agents of Lockwood and Co. returned to 35 Portland Row, safe and – mostly – unharmed, he could relax.

Well, he frankly could care less what ego-fulfilling stories Lockwood had to tell upon his returns or the colourful and new swear words Lucy had learned from Skull. It was (name) he waited up for.

Out of the three of his friends, (name) was the one who understood him most. She never pushed for him to speak when he didn’t feel comfortable. She always listened to him ramble on, whether it be for a case or purely out of interest in something, with her full attention, letting him speak for as long as he wanted, smiling and nodding as he did so. He felt most like himself with her around.

So, there he sat in the living room, glancing between the book in his lap and the front door, waiting for the familiar rattle of the doorhandle. It was cast in shadow, with only a thin streak of light cutting across it from the flickering crystal skull lamp in the hallway. Lockwood really needed to swap out the bulb.

When the tell-tale jingle of keys and the quiet clatter of the handle sounded, he sat up slightly and watched as she crept in as silently as she could. That was another thing George liked and appreciated about (name) – the fact that she was considerate for the other people in the house late at night. After a case, Lockwood would come in noisily, shutting the door behind him a little too loudly, and Lucy would be stomping around on too-creaky floorboards in her clunky boots. But (name) was always quiet.

It felt like George’s heart skipped a beat when she flashed him one of her enchanting smiles, paired with a little wave. Although the smiles were always reserved, edging on shy and nothing more than a curve of the lips and a sparkle in her eyes, it made his insides feel all warm and fluttery. The sensation had been new to him in the beginning, those first few times she’d smiled at him after she had been hired, but now it was something he yearned for. His days didn’t feel complete without it.

He opened his mouth to speak, but footsteps shook the stairs and, all of a sudden, Lockwood was there, arm draped over (name)’s shoulders.

“How was the case?” he asked, grinning.

(name) leaned against him as she tugged off her ectoplasm-spotted boots. “Couldn’t even call it that. Mrs Tilden, as sweet as she is, forgets that she can’t actually hear ghosts, and that the neighbour’s cat yowls whenever it gets too cold. I would’ve been back sooner, but all the night cabs were taken, and I didn’t feel like riding back with Kipps and his lot.”

“Well, you’re here now. Fancy some tea? Boiled the kettle not long ago.”

“That’d be great,” she said. When her eyes, sparkling in the dim light, turned on George, he found himself stuck to the spot. “Do you want some, George? I got some of that tea you really like this morning.”

And, as much as George wanted to agree, he couldn’t help but look at Lockwood and the way he so easily stood with her, holding her close and grinning. It should be George there. It should be him she leaned on after a case, him that made her tea and asked her how it went.

No, no. His feelings didn’t entitle him to her or her time. Besides, she and Lockwood had been friends since childhood, separated for a few years for educational reasons, so it was a given that they’d be close. He just wished it didn’t make his throat ache every time he saw them like they were now, standing close and laughing. Something he so longed to do, but didn’t know if he could.

So, he simply said, “No, thanks, I’m about to head up to bed.”

She smiled at him once more, the shadow of a grin hiding in the corners, and nodded before following Lockwood down to the kitchen, joking about the infamous Cat of Mead Place. Her voice seemed to reverberate through the walls and into George’s very being as he stared down at the book in his lap, the page long since lost in his distraction.

Heaving a sigh, he gently closed it and set it upon the coffee table, then trudged up the stairs to his room.

--

“So, you think that our ghost is the killer? That’s interesting. From the description, I would’ve figured it’d be the victim. Makes sense, though.”

George nodded, trying not to focus on the soft scent of lavender and something flowery as (name) leaned closer to him, studying his notes and findings. He really hoped she couldn’t hear the furious pounding of his heart.

“Well, it was the murderer’s house,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose a little. “It’s very likely that, even if it’s the old remains of the victim, it’s the killer’s source. Remember that bit in Hackney? Old teeth in a jar, but it was the source for that murderer.”

(name) shivered. “Don’t remind me. Still have nightmares about that guy.” She shuffled her chair slightly closer, casting George a short glance, before pulling one of the newspaper copies over. “Natalie Greymouth tried and imprisoned for the murder of her six children, later to – Wait, six children? So, in between all these other murders she committed, she was also popping out babies and killing them?”

Huffing a laugh, George said, “Suppose the kids distracted people from the fact that she was a cold-blooded killer.”

At that, (name) snickered, and a spark travelled down George’s spine as he watched her. The way she grinned as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, how her cheeks flushed for only a moment. It wasn’t until she turned her head to look at him, much closer than she had been before, that George felt stuck for breath.

Her smile slowly softened into something shyer, more private, as she became aware of the small space between them, but as quick as thought she turned away again, focusing back on the documents in front of them.

Hope had begun to form in that short moment, and it had tasted sweet, but it became bitter as Lockwood and Lucy burst through the kitchen door with bags of goods from Satchell’s. Lucy slid behind George’s seat, dumping an additional shopping bag filled with food on the kitchen counter.

“Hard at work I see,” Lockwood said with a grin. He leaned down over (name)’s shoulder, scanning the notes sprawled everywhere. “Makes no sense to me. I trust you guys have a lead on what we’re walking into later?”

George could feel his throat burn at the sight of them, but he swallowed the feeling down and looked away. “Yeah. We’ll give you the run down on the way.”

He tried his best not to look when Lockwood squeezed (name)’s arm. He tried even harder to ignore the grin she sent his way, so unlike anything she’d ever shown George, but it was impossible. It felt like trying to pretend that Skull wasn’t on the countertop making the most horrid faces ever. The action only ever drew his eye.

Her smile lit up any room she was in, and he hated that it wasn’t directed at him but instead Lockwood. Lockwood, who everyone attached themselves to – (name), Lucy, Flo Bones, the public. Everyone. Well, except for Quill Kipps and his Fittes lot, but George didn’t want them. He only wanted her.

--

“We’re splitting up.”

“Worst idea ever. I don’t like the look of this place.”

Lockwood snorted. “You never like the look of any of the places we’re hired out to.”

“Lie,” (name) said. She looked up at the towering house before them. “There was that one bit in Camden, remember? With the really nice, frosted glass windows in the door.”

“Before Lucy crashed into it and smashed the glass.”

Lucy went bright pink. “I don’t think that’s our focus for today.”

George watched as Lockwood nudged (name) with his elbow, eliciting a laugh from her, and tightly said, “Lucy’s right. We need to get this case over with. And pairs sound good – too much room to cover as one group. (name), I’ll go with you.”

For a moment, the rush of blood in his ears was all he could hear. What if she said no; that she wanted to pair up with Lockwood instead? George didn’t have anything against Lucy, but it got  unnerving hearing her one-sided conversations with Skull. He was never sure if she was insulting him or the glowing ghost in the jar. And they’d probably end up bickering as they often did which wouldn’t help this case run smoothly at all.

But (name) nodded and offered him that delicate smile. “Sounds good. Think I’ve got some ideas of where we might find our source.”

“Care to share?” Lockwood asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“No.”

“I’m your boss. You’ve got to tell me.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Yes, you –“

“Let’s go,” George interrupted. His fingers were beginning to twitch. “Before it gets dark.”

And so, they did. While Lucy and Lockwood trudged inside and up the looming staircase in the centre of the house, George and (name) crept through the ground floor, taking temperatures and using their Talents. He did try, really he did, to not linger on thoughts of her and Lockwood, of their lingering laughs and smiles, but it became increasingly harder the quieter they stayed.

“So, what are your ideas for finding the source?” he asked, trying to break the silence that had grown between them.

Usually, George would’ve preferred the quiet, but this was choking. Every moment his mind strayed from the task at hand, it drifted over to the horrible ache in his chest and the twitching of his fingers caused by what could only be described as jealousy. Jealousy! God, even thinking it made him mad.

Why was he jealous? Because someone he had never explicitly admitted to liking was showing an interest in someone else? Because someone else would squeeze her arm or nudge her, when even tapping her shoulder to get her attention felt like it would make George implode?

(name)’s fingers brushed over an old vase, and she lifted it up, turning it in her hands. “Going to use my Touch on very specific things. This lady died, what, five years ago? And her nephew took this house, so he likely would’ve thrown out most, if not all, of the things belonging to her. So, we need to find the obscure things.”

“Like that restaurant with the porcelain egg cup as a source?”

“Exactly like that. The stuff no one would expect a ghost to connect to.” Her grin then was unlike the ones she shared with Lockwood, and though it was rather self-approving, George found himself drawn to it. It was something he experienced that Lockwood might not have. “Georgie, you’re going to find the strangest things in this room, and I’ll have a feel. This was one of our theories for the primary haunting, right?”

The words clogged in his throat. Georgie. It repeated over and over and over in his head as he swallowed the feelings that were building up. “Yeah.”

He glanced around the office they had ended up in and took the temperature, finding it as the lowest on the ground floor. It was a moderately sized room with a massive desk cutting through the centre with chairs either side. The desk itself was neatly organised with folders and pens all gathered in holders. An expensive-looking computer had gathered dust since the owner’s rushed departure a few days ago. Rather unassuming, on the whole, but that was exactly what she wanted.

“We’ve got an hour until sundown,” he said, peeking out of the large window. “I’ll watch your back.”

Together, they picked out a selection of seemingly strange things from around the office. An envelope rack; a rather rusty metal pen; a little glass horse ornament plucked from a display case, among many other things. But (name)’s hands lingered over a photo frame. It was a simple thing made from light-coloured wood, and the picture inside showed the owner of the house and his partner, so it was the last thing George would’ve suspected. This was what she was for, though, he remembered. Her gut instinct was much better than the rest of Lockwood and Co.’s.

“Be careful,” George murmured. “We don’t want another repeat of Lucy and Annabelle Ward.”

There was that delicate smile again, and his heart skipped a beat.

With a firm grip, (name) took the frame in her hands and shut her eyes. George could only watch in silence as she used her Talent, unused to having nothing to do in the meantime, and found himself staring. She was wearing the jumper Lockwood had gotten her for her birthday a few months ago, which had George chewing the inside of his cheek, but it was hardly his main focus. Not when the sunlight peeking through the curtains was highlighting her skin just so, emphasising little details he had only ever seen when they would research together, and he’d get distracted and stare. The implication of another smile in the corners of her lips, the curl of her lashes against slightly rosy cheeks.

After a few moments of frowning in such a way that left George with a smile tugging on his lips, her eyes fluttered open, and a proud grin split her mouth. George’s knees felt a little weak.

“Bingo. This used to have a photo of our ghost Natalie with her six kids before she killed them inside. Who’d have thought?”

It took George a minute to reply. His brain felt muddled, what with the brightness of her smile and the feeling in his chest. “I’ll go get the silver net. Our bags are still in the hall.”

“Lockwood will be well chuffed we found the source so quick.”

A moment of hesitation. One George hoped she hadn’t caught, but as he stepped towards the door, (name)’s smile melted into something more concerned.

“Are you all right?”

“Hmm? I’m fine.”

“George, what’s wrong? You were fine literally ten seconds ago and now you, well, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

George shook his head. “(name), honestly, I’m fine.”

“Did I say something? God, what have I said in the last, what, two minutes? Um…”

She muttered under her breath as she tried to think, and George really did try to push the burning feeling in his throat down. The embarrassment that, even though it was the two of them working down there on the case, she immediately thought of Lockwood. What more did he expect? He was nothing more than the second choice to most people – no, third. Fourth even. Hell, he was the last choice, and he should’ve realised that (name) would see him that way, too.

“It’s you and Lockwood,” he blurted.

And he regretted it immediately.

(name) looked over at him then, eyes slightly widened, and mouth parted. “What?”

He could only shrug as he looked away from her. “I just – I don’t know. Lockwood is the one everyone finds the most interesting, and I’d hoped that for once that someone might choose me.”

“You thought I would…”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant. George didn’t know how to explain the feeling that encompassed his very soul at that moment. It felt like drowning, in a way. Like these feelings he’d fought so hard to keep at bay were filling his lungs rapidly and stopping him from breathing. His head was submerged, and he couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t do anything but feel these horrible emotions so acutely that it was painful.

“I’m sorry. I get that you and Lockwood are close. Well, you’re probably together and I’ve just never realised!”

He didn’t realise how much saying the words out loud could hurt. But he was right, wasn’t he? With all of their shared smiles and jokes and how they always stood close, there was no way they weren’t… a thing. George had just been too blind to see it.

“George.”

“Don’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“George! Shut. Up,” she hissed.

Words caught in his throat, shocked by the harsh tone and the expression on her face. Brows furrowed; eyes narrowed – she was angry at him!

“Look, I am sorry, but I don’t get why you’re mad at –“

She stormed over and slapped her hand over his mouth. The touch made him jump, and the close proximity of their faces had his treacherous heart pounding in his chest. Why? Why did it have to do that?

“Listen,” she whispered, and she gestured to the side with her head.

George slowly turned his gaze to the large table where he could now hear a faint click, click, click. When he looked, his heart lurched for a moment, and he saw one of the pens in the holder move slightly. The button at the end, the one that would bring the nib out, clicked open, then shut, then open. A few papers in one of the many folders fluttered despite the absence of a draft.

“Poltergeist,” he uttered beneath her hand. He tried not to focus on how soft it was, or how the soap she’d used smelled very different from the one Lockwood had bought for him.

She nodded soundlessly, and her hand lingered for a moment before moving back to her side. “Move quietly to the door.”

It was a good plan. If they moved silently and slowly, they’d be able to make it out to their kitbags and secure the source seeing as poltergeists were essentially blind. But George could feel its invisible presence hovering over them like a horribly cold and scratchy blanket, and the house was an old one. As soon as he took a step back, a floorboard creaked.

He and (name) froze and, for a minute nothing happened. Then the clicking stopped and the pen rattled in the holder. The temperature of the room felt like it had dropped five degrees within a mere second and, although George’s Listening was nowhere near the standard of Lucy’s, he swore he could hear a faint voice calling out some names.

Another step back, and the mistake was made. The door to the office slammed shut, rattling the bones of the house. Lockwood’s voice echoed from somewhere above, calling their names.

Shit.

He should’ve paid attention to the room growing colder or the sun setting outside instead of watching (name) when she’d used her Talent. Maybe then they wouldn’t be stuck in this position, facing off with a ghost that they couldn’t see nor could they harm without securing the source. And, well, they had no way of doing that now with their bags stashed outside.

(name) was the first to move. Light-footed on the floorboards, she tugged on the door handle, but it didn’t budge. George could feel her panic as strongly as he felt his own, and he realised with dread that they were only feeding into the ghost.

The clicking resumed, and (name) shuffled over to George again, hand on her rapier. It would prove useless in this situation.

“For your information,” she whispered. “Me and Lockwood aren’t a thing. He and Lucy are.”

George’s gaze snapped over to her, and she offered a soft albeit nervous smile. “I don’t think now is the time for that conversation.”

“Oh, come on, admit you’re relieved. Also, you didn’t happen to stash a silver net in your pocket did you?”

Yes, he was relieved. He didn’t think he’d ever been more relieved in his life than he was in that moment, knowing that she wasn’t with Lockwood. He was confused for a moment, wondering how he hadn’t ever seen the connection between Lockwood and Lucy, but it was overtaken by the sheer happiness that (name) wasn’t in a relationship with their best friend. And, no, he hadn’t thought to stuff a net in his pocket.

The jealousy that had reared its ugly head in his chest dissipated entirely when her hand slipped into his, warm in the horrid freezing temperature in the office.

“How are we getting out of here?”

George wasn’t sure. He wasn’t Lockwood. He didn’t come up with reckless plans that saved their lives while inadvertently endangering them at the same time. He didn’t destroy houses in the process.

Well…

“You any good at throwing chairs?”

--

Hours later, George was still shaking glass out of his hair over the kitchen bin at 35 Portland Row.

Lockwood was standing over the kettle as water boiled, waiting to make cups of tea for everyone as Lucy slapped a plaster on a cut on his forehead. Apparently, after hearing the office door slam, the two of them had rushed down the stairs, only for the carpet the ran down the centre of them – for whatever posh, middle-class Londoner reason – slipped out of place, presumably because of the Poltergeist, sending Lockwood toppling. He whacked his head off the corner of the wall, earning a pretty nasty cut and a possible concussion. Lucy had come off scott-free, but Skull’s silverglass jar had a dent in the top.

(name) and George on the other hand were covered in little shards of glass that nicked them every now and then after sending a chair through the office window and leaping out into the flower bushes right outside. Thank god they’d been on the first floor.

Ever since that moment in the office, that one where (name) had told him about Lockwood and Lucy, the one where she held his hand, it had become blatantly obvious how wrong George had been about everything. Even now, he could tell that the energy that she and Lockwood shared was nothing like the one Lockwood had with Lucy. How hadn’t he noticed sooner?

Frankly, he didn’t really care about that now. He was too caught up on the phantom touch of her hand in his and the smiles she kept sending his way.

She’d held his hand in the taxi on the way home, claiming it was just because the poltergeist had freaked her out, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the entire truth. (name) was one of the bravest people he had ever met, so a poltergeist wasn’t going to be the thing to shake her out of the norm. But George didn’t mind.

He hadn’t ever been big on being touched, disliking the way it made his skin feel, but he found himself staying close to her, aching to hold her hand again. And, judging from the twitch of her fingers, the way they inched closer to his when he sat next to her, he figured she felt much the same.

And, with a smile, he wrapped his hand around hers, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his.

[duchesskatriel]

I came up with this AU a couple of months ago, and since a moot encouraged me to share with the class I might as well (plus I also wanna draw this AU lol)

I'll call this au Be Born as a placeholder rn lol

SO this au starts right after HMS managed to find a way to end the loop, and they harmonise permanently. Whole basically gains the courage to confess to his crush (still don't have a name for her) and she also confesses her mutual feelings, Blah Blah Blah, they date, yada yada yada, they get married and have a pair of twins.

I also have to say that Whole, whom I will call CJ from this point forward (Does NOT mean Chonny Jash, its a diff name, same acronym) is aware and remembers HMS quite a bit. Most of his memories/knowledge of them has faded since the harmonising was over 6 years ago, but he still remembers a few key details like their roles, some of their names and a blurry image of what they look like.

Soo like the VERY FUNCTIONAL human being CJ is, decides to name his twin sons after two of the voices in his head. Wow, clap for the man everyone whoooo-. The names he uses are Artemis and Apollo. A year later, they have another child whom he names, say it with me! ATLAS WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED AHH. Atlas was born on the same day as Artemis and Apollo so you'd argue their triplets lol.

OHHH this is a normal au there couldn't possibl- SIKE THIS SHET HAS ✨️MAGIC✨️ BECAUSE PLAIN HIGH SCHOOL AUS ARE OVERRATED /J /SILLY /LH

And this is where I ruin the au🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

OK SO during the time the twins still weren't born, Heart began to wonder what it must be like to live life as your own person, to have a childhood, go school- etc etc (HMS split up into existence when CJ was 18 not too long before he dropped out of college) he starts rambling to Mind and Soul about this, Mind tries to shrug it off as a plain "What if" sanario or daydream but also ends up thinking the same.

This is also fueled by the fact that they spent majority of their existence fighting each other never living an even remotely normal day in their life.

Soul wants both of them to be happy, plus he also starts to get infected with this desire and curiosity. SO he somehow finds out he can cut off a prong of the trident and make it a dagger which he can link Heart or Mind to making them particularly function as a soul.

Soul also wants to be with his halves so he asks for Heart's blindfold and Mind's crown to create a puppet that can serve thr roles of all three of them. Which he names Harmonia (AYO OMORIHMS AU FORSHADOWING?!?!?!)

Harmonia is basically a perfect copy of CJ lol. Soul leaves Harmonia alone to look after CJ with his trident(now pretty much a spear) a crown of a ruler who has stepped down from his throne and a blindfold used to protect its previous wearer from the blinding lights of the Sun.

You can kinda just ignore that part if you want (still on the fence with it but I'll most likely go with it) cus it doesn't really effect the story if you were to erase it. All that happens mostly is Deju Vu

I don't really need to explain which HMS is which kid hah.

I'm now gonna explain the three kids.

First is Artemis, who is TECHNICALLY the older twin (he came out first). Artemis is based on the right brain being not only the emotional side but also the creative and artistic side. So yes... he is an artist. Quite extroverted, still likes his peace and quiet, yeahhhh

Second is Apollo, the "younger" twin (funny because he's the tallest out of the three). Ehh, you know the drill, straight A's student... hot nerd even (JOKE. DONT KILL ME. NO. NUH UH. I WAS JOKING EH) the classic "grades over mental health because" guy. Monotone and deep voice but is surprisingly approachable (unless he put you on his "No likey" list based on first impressions lol).

Last but not least, Atlas, the poor younger sibling who keeps getting caught in the crossfire between his two older siblings. He's more on the athletic side, being hockey team (suggested by randa). The most energetic of the three, as a kid, he often asked his brothers to play with him, which is why the trio grew up to be really close.

Uhhhh some trivia/fun facts to maybe explain their characters a bit more:

• Apollo and Artemis "fight" from time to time but its mostly "YOU FATASS, YOU ATE ALL MY KITKATS" then dramatic pause then "Dad made waffles."

• Apollo's favourite book is No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai.

• Artemis is the shortest of the three and gets flamed by Apollo about it

• CJ doesn't have a favourite child

• Apollo is the one that sits on the front passenger seat of the car, and will die fighting for it.

• Apollo is a cat person while Artemis is a dog person.

• Sexualities

Apollo: Bi

Artemis: Gay

Atlas: AroAce

• Ages:

Apollo and Artemis: 16

Atlas: 15

• Aollo's fashion taste is dark academia

• Atlas and Apollo did karate for 8 years

• Despite this, Artemis poses the most threat to the average bypasser

• CJ's wife works abroad on a cruise. She only sees her family atleast once a year

• Atlas used to have a childhood dog named....wait for it..... DARREL

• Atlas has more then one occasion, forced Apollo to dance Rasputin on just dance.

•Apollo's sleep schedule is so bad he's immune system is absolute trash

• Artemis once forgot to lock his room during a family gathering and came back to one of his younger cousins scribbling on one of his paintings.

• Artemis dislikes the idea of having kids for that reason

• Artemis was struggling on a question so hard his tutor had to ask Apollo for help because neither could they figure it out.

Yeah that's all for now, CYA

[akai-anna]

Rambling post about The Art TM

Firstly, a special thank you to @livmadart who fuelled my motivation with her lovely tags on my art to finish making this post as soon as I could (life just likes to get in my way). You are such an amazing person and artist (by the way, everyone should totally check out Liv's BDay piece for our favourite little menace BECAUSE IT'S GORGEOUS), and your words always mean a lot to me (even if I'm not the best at communication, for which I apologize, still love and adore you, despite the awkwardness and sporadic talks).

The Idea

My art was inspired by the amazing @detshin's piece. Ever since I've seen it, I felt the urge to make a companion piece for it; I adore the composition and the symbolism in it to bits.

The Concept

I also wanted to take my own spin on the piece. From the start I wanted:

Conan's eyes not being covered (because he can see)

Conan looking at the viewer like he is looking straight into your soul. No thoughts, head empty why, it just felt right.

His mouth to be the one that is covered in some way. The sheer symbolism of his mouth being obstructed (but cannot speak) just made my heart ache so badly.

Changing the outfit based on this musing of mine.

As for the rest, it came about when sketching around, and waiting for that CLICK in my brain. And the forget-me-nots covering his mouth was that CLICK: SYMBOLISM IS MY LIFEBLOOD.

The Materials

I had 2 techniques in mind: watercolours and soft pastels. Ultimately I decided on soft pastels because

I haven't worked with pastels in YEARS, yet I adore the technique

I haven't used these pastels since I got them from an attic cleaning that we did for an old lady last year-ish (they would have been thrown away, after YEARS OF DISUSE and my heart couldn't take it, SUCH BEAUTIFUL MATERIALS TO WASTE AWAY)

I felt that what the material has to offer suited this particular piece: the vibrant colours offering a certain contrast to the original piece, and a certain feel (especially on the right paper) to the texture.

After some testing, I decided that going with a dark background works better: it made the colours more vibrant, and the slight texture of the paper did its magic. + Dark VS Light background colour was another nice contrast between the two pieces.

The Making

At first I didn't know what to use to sketch with, so I tested a couple things, and ultimately went with a white pencil: easy enough to erase if needed but also visible enough to see on this particular paper I had.

Looking up and studying tons of reference pictures for various things (sometimes with more, sometimes with less luck): the pose, facial features, the flowers... I have a whole folder of 'em LMAO

Actually drawing that sketch LOL

Then came the colours, which I tested on a separate piece of paper, to see which ones I want to use... After that I added the main blocks of colours.

And when I liked it, proceeding with the actual colouring: mixing all the different colours and layering them. In some places I used 4-6 colours (or more, depending how you look at it), while I used only 2, but mostly 3 in others.

Lastly: I used hairspray as a fixative, which slightly changed the quality and texture of the pastels and colours. (See below.)

The Feelings

As mentioned above, it has been years (I think around a decade actually, what the fck) since I used soft pastels, so it was a bit of a challenge to get back into using the material (and I'm not as experimental and confident I want to be yet, and likely fried my brain a little in the process). Also tons of fun, though! I forgot how much fun is there in the process of creation, and this piece brought that back into my life.

[maxislvt]

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa

Summary: You'd do anything to give your boys a good Christmas

Warning: None

A/N: my awful humor plagues the narrative another day

Event Masterlist

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

For many people, two kids during Christmas was a financial death sentence. For the Maximoff family, it was usually just a hospital bill if you were lucky. Christmas was like a whimsical curse on you and your family. Fun times and at least one scrapbook-worthy injury in the family.

When you and Wanda first started dating, they were small things. Pietro ran face-first into the world's sharpest wreath and needed stitches. Then, Wanda had broken her wrist after getting locked in her family shed. Finally, the Christmas before you two got married, you got a nosebleed from being hit in the face with a vodka bottle.

When the twins were born, it seemed the curse had disappeared. Maybe someone would get the flu or a small cold, but you were blessed with peaceful Christmases for quite some time. Unfortunately, that beautiful streak was about to break. You could just feel it. As your children grew older, they became more reckless. Well, it was mostly Tommy and his hectic super speed, but even Billy started to have random bursts of magical powers.

"Wanda, I'm worried about the curse," You said, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep was the last thing on your mind as you were plagued with visions of every accident that happened. All the tiny bruises you, your wife, and her brother had collected over the years. The mark on Pietro's forehead is barely hidden by the fluff of his bangs, the slash on your eyebrow, and the lighting strike across your girlfriend's lips. "I mean, I know the boys think ours are cool, but I would like for my kids to not look like a gently tossed sack of partially peeled potatoes.

Wanda snickered and rolled over to face you. "And what makes you say that?" Her hand cupped your face and gently ran her thumb over your eyebrow. "Also, they're not gonna look like potatoes. Even if they do, they're kids, they get all kinds of crazy scars and misadventures." Despite being a witch, your wife wasn't nearly as superstitious as you were. Not that she didn't believe in bloodline curses, just didn't believe you or she had one.

You sighed and wiggled closer to your wife. "I know, but I just don't want them to get hurt. The hospital staff knows us by our first name now, and that's not a good look for any of us." Wanda normally supported your ramblings and crazy idea, but you could never get her to take your side on that argument. "I mean with Billy's magic and Tommy running around at the speed of everything, something is bound to go wrong!"

Wanda pulled you in for a kiss. "Baby, the people at the hospital know you by your first name because you're an Avenger and the boys will learn to control their powers soon enough. Just relax, okay?"

You sighed and pulled Wanda into your chest. "Fine, but if someone ends up in the hospital, it's on you."

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

"Pietro, this is the worst idea I have ever heard in my entire life."

The Santa suit, fake beard, and big red bag laid out a recipe for disaster. Pietro's plan was exactly what your anxiety-ridden heart didn't need. One of you was to dress up as the big red man and jump down the chimney to give the kids the best Christmas memory ever.

"Isn't this exactly how Tony broke his leg trying to make Morgan happy? I love the boys, but I'm not exactly looking forward to another medical bill." You used your foot to gently kick at the huge bag one of you was supposed to bring down a chimney. "Also, there's no way this thing is gonna fit down my chimney. You could barely drag this thing into the room."

Pietro shrugged. "Yes, it is how he broke his leg, but he isn't as cool as either of us. This plan is foolproof!" Many people struggled to comprehend how twins could be so different. Wanda was tense and forever cautious. Pietro was nothing short of impulsive and thoughtless. "Think of the kids! They'll be so happy."

Eventually, you conceded. "Fine, but if I have to go down that chimney, you're dressing up like an elf!" You begrudgingly snatched the suit and beard from your brother-in-law and made your way to the bathroom. "Also, you forced me into this if Wanda gets mad!" Though you were an adult with your autonomy, your wife had the final say in most things. If she wanted a winter break with no powers, you'd follow that command to a T. Unless Pietro had hyped you up into doing otherwise. "I look…ridiculous."

Pietro opened the bathroom door to reveal his half of the costume. Pointed ears, green and white striped hat, and the dumb elf outfit you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. "We look great, now grab the bag and let's toss you up on that roof!" Before you could argue, he picked you up and sped straight up the side of the house. "Okay, I'm gonna go wake up Billy and Tommy, you just wait here, and in about a minute just jump down and be all jolly! Got it? Good!"

You nodded, but Pietro had already left. For the sake of a happy wife, excited children, and safe Christmas, you decided not to think about how scary it was to be alone on top of a snowy roof. Refusing to believe it'd take a minute to get both of your beloved sons out of bed, you simply jumped down the chimney without much thought. Unfortunately, the sack was much too big and you had to let go. That had only gotten you about an extra three inches down the opening before being officially stuck. "Fuck!" Was all you could shout before desperately kicking your feet back and forth.

Pietro sped back up the roof and pulled the sack out of the chimney. He peered down the shaft and his jaw nearly dropped. "Dude, are you stuck?"

"No, I decided to get comfy in the chimney just to try it out. Yes, I'm fucking stuck! Go call my wife!"

After an interesting game of magical Twister and one broken chimney, you were freed from the confines of your brick prison and taken to the hospital. There was no time for you to change so you were sent in an ambulance, big beard and all. Fortunately, your wife was more so endeared by your commitment than horrified by the situation.

"So, is there a Mrs.Claus?" Wanda asked smoothly as she snuggled up in your hospital bed. She laughed as you groaned out in embarrassment. "Come on, I thought that was really cute!"

"You're only saying that because you're not hopped up on six different pain meds and don't have stitches." You grumbled but leaned against your wife to get some comfort. Her warm body eased the blistering cold that mercilessly attacked your wounds. "I told you we were cursed, but nooo!"

Wanda giggled and peppered kisses all over your face. "I think it's less of us being cursed and more of my brother having bad ideas." She wrapped you up in her arms and smiled. "Now rest up. The faster we get out of here, the faster we can get home to the boys. "

[chairteeth]

Touka, Nemu, and self-perception

Yet another TouNemu rant! Self-perception this time! Surely this CANNOT GO WRONG! Spoilers exclusively for TouNemu-related stuff in Arc 2. You will most likely be fine given that the only faction I even mention here is the Union and it’s mostly to bash them over the head with a metal chair for the crime of kicking rescue puppies. Insane ramblings beneath!

This may not seem related, but I want to start by talking about what Touka and Nemu are like as parents and why, because it's very interesting (by parents I mean with Sakurako). Touka learned the dos from her dad, and Nemu learned the don'ts from both of her parents. If you compare the parenting styles of the Satomis vs the Hiiragis, a few patterns emerge. Touka's mom we are disqualifying as per my own made up lore explanation for her absence (heart condition depression guilt spiral), but before I say anything about Nemu's mom, I'm gonna compare the two dads, because when you think about it they're a little similar! 

Nemu's dad is literally a ghost. We have NEVER ONCE seen that man but we have had him mentioned multiple times. Unlike Touka who avoids mentioning her mom ever (other than the one time in her MGS’ Episode 3 and also the time Nayuta mentioned her in her quotes), Nemu does mention her dad a bunch, usually in the same context as her mom, which implies a few things that I may get into later, however the excuse/explanation given is that he's busy with work. Which if we put him next to Touka's dad is an interesting (read: terrible) excuse. Touka's dad is very busy. He's busy with politics stuff apparently, with the multiple businesses he owns (as far as I’m aware), with the hospital he's a director of. Things were probably easier when Touka was still hospitalized, yet in Arc 2 he makes time for his child, even when it's not "necessary". So what's your excuse exactly, Mr. Hiiragi?

That interesting comparison aside, Nemu's mom has entirely shaped her parenting style, perfectly on display with Sakurako. You will notice that Nemu always asks Sakurako questions. About her day, about her emotions, etc. You know. Just like she wished her mom had done for her, which Mrs. Hiiragi of course never did. What with her habit of visiting her hospitalized terminally ill child only to infodump her and leave. Nemu also cooks with Sakurako like her mom cooks with her (on occasion, when she remembers she has a daughter). Essentially, Nemu is acting with Sakurako like she wishes her mom would act with her. I need to stress the psychological impact this tier of emotional neglect has had on Nemu; once again, this is a hospitalized, terminally ill child, who has been isolated and away from home for years (presumably). But the isolation and pain of being an inpatient, likely most often in pain, not knowing if you’ll see the light of morning each time you go to sleep, and complete lack of emotional support from adults was not enough! Of course not. Instead, Nemu was parentified.

Hear me out. You may not have thought about it before, but Nemu, the people pleaser that she is, has been made to cater to and take care of the emotions of fully grown adults (her parents), and like most victims of abuse/neglect, she defends them. The poor girl desperately wants her family to love her. She assume-gaslit herself into thinking her mom handmade the socks she got for Christmas while hospitalized AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT. Nemu, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but literally nothing I've seen from your family tells me that your mother would do that. When a child forcefully matures faster than they should, it very much scars them mentally, like the physical stretch marks some of us get when we’re younger from growing too much too fast. Being forced to take care of oneself, feeling misunderstood, closing off from your peers, being parentified by the adults around you, just generally growing up before you're prepared for it… In an isolated hospital environment, Nemu and to a slightly lesser extent Touka (and to an even lesser extent Ui), had to, in some aspects, mature much faster, but were left with a complete void in terms of experience.

Children learn mainly from the experiences they have, and on that, Touka is right. They were robbed of those experiences. All three of them thus show signs of resentment issues, self-blaming issues, and "I'm a burden" issues (Touka may not have that last one, but she has other issues to make up for it). There's also just the inherently traumatizing experience of waking up in pain. Being helpless. Finding scarce enjoyment in being alive because you're so in pain all the time. The extremely scary idea that you will not know if the pain/discomfort you feel is Just Another Tuesday of living in your body or if you’re in urgent need of medical attention and should perhaps inform the doctors/nurses that something is wrong. Not knowing if something is actually wrong or not, and the habit of keeping it to yourself because you either don’t want to bother others/be a burden or you don’t want to be seen as the Boy Who Cried Wolf of the ER, can lead to absolutely terrifying situations. For example you could have a horrible kidney infection that’s almost septic and not realize it because well, you’re always in pain/uncomfortable around that area. Surely this is nothing. When you’re used to being in pain, you stop noticing it as much. Desensitization. It’s confusing and distressing to live every day in a body that is deeply and terribly sick like that, ESPECIALLY for a child.

Anyway. Back to Nemu specifically. She mentions in her quotes that although people say she doesn’t show her feelings much (or that she “lacks emotion” as NA my beloathed put it), she feels plenty in her heart. Hey… Hey wanna know why that is? Sure it’s part of the way she is by nature, but a big part of why she’s like this is—take a wild guess—her parents! Again! From her perspective as we saw in her MGS, she sees her emotions as a burden on others, particularly her family. The reason she seems emotionally distant is actually one very fun (read: sad) flavor of the people pleaser. Actually, I think I’m going to quote this post:

"Think about it. In real life, the person that's bottling up all their emotions is not the one that's brooding in the corner and snaps at you for trying to befriend them. More often than not, it's that friendly person in your circle who makes easy conversation with you, laughs with you, and listens and gives advice whenever you're upset. But you never see them upset, in fact they seem to have endless patience for you and everything around them—and so you call them their friend, you trust them. And only after months of telling them all your secrets do you realize… they've never actually told you anything about themselves."

Guess who fits the “emotionally repressed character who is mellow” type! That’s right! Our resident sad author! That’s, also why in some of my AUs I give her severe repressed anger issues but that’s beside the point. That whole post is very much just… Nemu. She separates herself so that she won’t be hurt—or at least, not as hurt as she would be if she was feeling everything in full. It's really really sad because she seeks out and buys gifts for her family, specifically learning everything they like down to their tastes (she even mentions her mom's taste in food). Just a quiiick consideration: does it seem to you like they're putting in even an ounce of the effort she's making? Because I have a feeling even Nemu must’ve realized what a lost cause it was, eventually. I can’t stop stressing how badly she wants to fit in and be a part of her family. Not to mention how badly the Arc 1 finale must have crushed her internally. In a family of athletes, with how excited she was during Arc 1 to get to Do Things in a healthy body? To lose one's legs?

Everyone leaves her behind… Well, everyone except Touka. Speaking of Nemu’s relationship with Touka! Back at the very start of things, in the hospital, I assure you that Nemu held Touka in this sort of hateful pedestal that she wanted nothing more than to rip her from, out of envy. Because Touka's dad evidently loves her, spends time with her, pays attention to her, gives her affection and Oh You Know. Everything Nemu has ever wanted. So I believe that if that relationship hadn't improved, Nemu would've grown to hate Touka, viscerally and intensely. Because simply put, she has everything Nemu wants and can never get. And when you're so isolated you have no one to talk to, especially if you're like Nemu or Touka (introverted and doesn't like talking to strangers especially about Emotions and Big Thoughts)… Coping mechanisms like writing will not get you that far if you don't have the support you need. Which leads me to MY NEXT POINT:

“If I can't be useful, I am worthless.”

Ha. Hahaha. So. I've gone on and on about just how bad an inpatient hospital environment is for a child, especially a child genius with little to no emotional support who is also terribly socialized. But I really need to talk more about the prodigy trauma. I am pretty sure more than one person reading this will be familiar with being considered "gifted" either period or only as a kid due to neurodivergence or whatever. Society is NOT nice to gifted children/geniuses. And, adults tend to praise children who show a lot of academic prowess and encourage those interests. The problem is that they often do it so much that it's everything the child ties their identity and self worth to. They also do not praise other things, as in only the highlight is ever praised, which causes even more severe tunnel vision and a more deeply rooted sense of This Is My Special Thing That I Am Good At And I Must Always Excel At It (this often leads into pretty bad perfectionism). For example, Touka's dad tells her on multiple occasions that she has to use her prodigious intellect to help others. He does this with good intentions. HOWEVER let's just say that may not have processed quite like he expected.

Let me try to go layer by layer with this. I'll use Touka because she's the more "traditional" type of genius (the STEM kind). I know that in private circles I have joked about her having a budding praise kink because of how she reacts to being called smart BUT it's actually at least mildly concerning that she completely changes her tune on something when praised, and she's only ever praised on her intelligence. That is what makes her her. It's what makes her special and unique. Touka has a superiority complex and an inferiority complex simultaneously which I will elaborate on at some point, but her dad has also sooort of tried to drill noblesse oblige into her. By the way she speaks (the astronomy class presentation in her MGS Episode 3, her line about Nemu's writing in Nemu's MGS Episode 3, that one damn scene in Arc 2 Chapter 5)… she sees the world entirely in terms of giving and taking and stealing. And that's, not hugely healthy, for starters, but then! Arc 1 happens. And I already talked about what Arc 1 did to both Touka "Maskwearer" Satomi and Nemu "People Pleaser" Hiiragi (their mental health is so good! /s), I have one essay for each of those. But I don't think I've ever discussed what happened in their heads after Arc 1. Because arguably, that was worse. I have another essay about the development of their characters in the works but I’m trying to actually make that one a bit more well-organized so it may take a little longer.

Touka had a job to do. Nemu had a job to do. They had a goal and a purpose, a promise to deliver on. They failed. What then? What do they do after the dust clears? They panic. As soon as they've had some time to actually process the extremely traumatic shit they went through and how badly they have fucked up, they internalize all of their guilt and it destroys them from the inside out. And what can they do? Nothing, really. Everyone hates them. They're failures. They have no purpose. No use. Who are they? They don't know. They're lost. And no one is there to guide them. So they try to do what they think is right: taking themselves out of the equation. They serve no purpose and are of no use anymore. Worthless. All they've done is harm. Mind you, this is never at any point mended. These wounds are left to fester. If you pay attention throughout Arc 2, the Union relies on them for several things, but they're never quite part of the group. They never quite rise above their status that they gained after all that happened in Arc 1. Which is why they kept trying to throw their lives away, among other things. When you’re doing your best and your pretty significant efforts are never acknowledged, it’s extremely discouraging, and for them, works with a fun concept we call confirmation bias. And that leads me to the names I gave the two atonement suberas. Sinner and purpose. The sinner subera is the one where they are self-flagellating harder than worshippers of Loviatar in D&D, and the purpose subera is the one where they finally, finally find themselves a worthy goal to pursue. A challenge, a purpose. Something only they can do, this time with a bit of extra help.

The way they see everything is literally just "everything we do is wrong and hurts people" and "we can never do anything right." Every single time Touka perks up after an adult calls her smart and bends over backwards to prove that the adult is right I want to break something. Dr. Satomi had good intentions but my man has NO IDEA the damage he did with those teachings. Noblesse oblige aside, Touka just ties her identity ENTIRELY to being smart. That's all she is. If you pay attention to the way she speaks, she weaves this into her personality all the time, and the amount of time she explicitly brings up being a genius is both concerning and a badly disguised cry for help under a layer of arrogance that’s easy to peel back if you simply cared enough to look closer. When she's given a role like say, Magius, then she has a job, a responsibility, and *points violently at my Magius Touka essay* A PURPOSE. It’s not particularly good for her, but it’s something. She desperately needed direction, to be taught how to be, well, herself, and nobody gave her that. No one gave her or Nemu what they needed. You know what their elders did? Yell at them.

If you think about it. Do the others ever sit down with TouNemu and talk to them? Do they really? Or do they basically only pay actual attention when TouNemu inevitably make a mistake or do something they don't like, to berate them for it like they're misbehaving dogs? No wonder they isolate themselves and can only open up to/rely on each other. They have no one else. Even Iroha and Ui are comparatively distant now. Not to mention, these two probably believe they're everything from hard to love to incorrigible to perpetually evil, cannot be good or do good, etc. Do the others ever praise them when they do something good? Is there ANY positive reinforcement at all? I have not even touched f4's funny child abuse joke about how Kanagi dishes out corporal punishment to these two. The instance of it in Paradise Shift boils my blood personally because EVEN WHEN THEY DO A GOOD THING THEY GET PUNISHED. And guess what their reaction is? Nothing. Just a complaint on Touka’s part when they’re in private about how it still hurts. That’s literally the reaction of a child who’s been hit by their parents all their life and doesn’t know anything else, or alternatively the reaction of someone whose belief about deserving that punishment is deeply rooted in them and so they have no reaction to it. In my humble opinion, these two are literally saints, I would have snapped a while ago if I were them. Especially because literally no one has noticed or acknowledged their growth at all (other than each other). Ui and Iroha, supposedly the people closest to them other than each other, still thought they would fight until they came to blows as late as Mokyu's MGS.

And that brings me to something that a person I’ve talked to about this has brought up. Touka and Nemu do still occasionally behave in abrasive ways (mainly Touka), look down on others, etc. But I mean, can you blame them? They’re not really getting the right feedback. How are they supposed to know better? If you take a closer look, they are almost disgustingly soft and sweet with each other. And although arguably during Arc 2 they are very cordial towards people (Kagome and Sana come to mind as easy examples, with them even helping Sana publish her picture book online), when they do act in ways that push people away… It’s probably on purpose. Subconsciously or consciously. It proves them right about being unlovable and irredeemable. It’s the confirmation bias all over again.

Christmas String is once again an excellent example of both their bond (although sadly they spend most of the event in Work Mode) and their growth over the years—which they acknowledge themselves in the event, MGS, and quotes. In that event, they were kind to two children they didn't even know and even went out of their way to help them, despite claiming many times that they’re not kind people and “aren’t that type of person” to help others. They specifically cite that as a thing Ui is capable of, something Iroha does, but not them of course. In light of what I just said about their own perception of themselves, however, they would literally never recognize that they are actually kind people. They did so many unnecessary nice things for others even without the diary's influence in that event alone, and if you look at them you could tell they were pleased and happy every time they saw that they'd helped someone. They just genuinely believe that to be kind, you need to be Ui/Iroha. They were most often around people like Ui and Iroha, who basically emanate an aura of light and kindness and empathy, and it seems to come so naturally to them, so surely if it doesn’t come as naturally to Touka and Nemu, it means they’re bad. And they can quite literally never be Iroha/Ui. They say that themselves.

It's also because of introversion vs extroversion. A lot of the time extroverted people give off more… Kind, warm vibes, friendly vibes, even if they’re shy and anxious like Iroha started out as, because they're more open and talkative and they Thrive With People. Introverts like Touka and Nemu however often seem “cold,” “aloof,” “rude,” or “uncaring,” and this is especially the case when the introvert in question doesn’t display enough shyness and anxiety for their attitude to be deemed “valid” or “understandable” when in reality they would still help you just as the extroverts would. Granted, Touka and Nemu very often just, don’t wanna have anything to do with People. Them plain not talking to people or telling anyone that they *could* after Arc 2 until it became necessary is a good example of that. But, that doesn’t necessarily mean they won’t help or that they would turn a blind eye. Unlike Iroha, however, Touka and Nemu generally do the opposite of seeking people out except when the person they seek is the other; I do not think they count each other as “people” in the same sense as everyone else. In many ways. As that same person I talked to put it… “I want to be alone with you by my side.” Because they are each other’s only safe space, where they can be truly 100% themselves without fear of judgment and without expectations to meet. I could start yelling about their bond now but I shall Refrain for the sake of not making this even longer.

All of this to say that The Babies are very sad and very traumatized and they deserve the marriage they got. I will elaborate A LOT on the whole… Uwasa Queens thing, when I get to that part in the development essay. Thanks for reading today’s ramble! Do ask if you have any follow-up questions or want to know my thoughts on something else about them.

[shiraishi--kanade]

✦ New pinned post ✦

The old one got quite outdated, so it's about time I made a new one.

♪ I'm Jay! I also go by Ollie and Lu.

♪ any pronouns!

♪ My main is @jeiseny! I follow and like from there, but I prefer to interact on this blog.

♪ My back-up blog is @shiraishi-kanade. It was originally my only side-blog before being accidentally terminated by Tumbrl. Now it's just staying there, mostly inactive; however, I still intend to use it for long-form character analysis.

♪ I'm physically disabled. I'm also open to talk about it and my experience with it, specifically rheumatic heart disease and juvenile arthritis, but I am not obligated to prove my diagnosis to anyone.

♪ I'm dyslexic! If I suddenly don't make sense, that's why.

♪ This is a project sekai fan blog, on which I mostly write character analysis, especially focusing on Vivid Bad Squad in general and An Shiraishi specifically.

♪ I am also an occasional fanfic writer. My AO3 username is also Jeiseny!

♪ I'm currently working on two unit shuffle aus (on an indefinite hiatus, but by no means abandoned) and my mini-series Count To Five that is An Shiraishi-centric and takes place after Light Up the Fire. Feel free to check it out!

♪ I also have a side-blog for my pjsk fan unit Kawaakari Orchestra! They're a long standing passion project of mine. You can find them at @kawaakari-orchestra.

♪ I will sometimes post about other media I'm a fan of.

Additional info:

♪ Any interactions (e.g replies, reblogs, asks, dms) are fine and encouraged regardless of mutual status.

♪ I'm fine with tags and tag games (except picrew chains! I don't do those); however, please refrain from publically asking me to reblog anything pertaining to fan-content and especially character analysis. It makes me really uncomfortable (never thought I'd have to set a boundary like this but here we are).

♪ I visit the tags often and will usually reblog the takes I agree with naturally; being pushy about it because of me being a relatively big character analysis blog will only get you blocked.

♪ I love receiving asks about my opinion on pjsk characters and storylines! By all means, please send them to me. I take a while to answer sometimes because I take my sweet time to think about it.

♪ I am an VBS oshi & main, and I'm caught up with their stories at the moment of writing this. I also follow N25 closely and keep an eye out on WxS. All the favourites & fandom information from the old pinned post is still relevant!

♪ I'm open to discussion and correction on my posts, especially if it's about the characters I don't know well!

♪ On another hand, I'm not open to unsolicited criticism on my fanfiction. I do it for fun only.

♪ I'm touch-averse and neurodivergent. Please keep that in mind.

♪ I complain and vent a lot, especially about my disability and chronic pain. Block #jay rambles about life.txt tag if you're uncomfortable with that.

Tags:

#jay rambles.txt - general tag. Mostly about pjsk though

#jay rambles about life.txt - general tag for everything that is not about my interests. Doubles as a vent tag (because there's nothing to smile about in my life /ref)

#jay rambles about ocs.txt - me rambling about pjsk ocs, both my own and other's

#jay's archive.txt - old-ish character analysis posts or otherwise important things from a previously terminated blog; can also be found by similar tags on @shiraishi-kanade.

#jay gets asks - ask answered tag!

#jay's character analysis - self-explanatory

#jay's memes.png - I like to make funny images sometimes!

#jay's ocs & #jay's headcanons - self-explanatory

#rb - general rb tag.

#self rb - adding onto my own posts, mostly for my own self-organisation.

#other's character analysis - pjsk takes I love and agree with

#orher's art <3 - art rbs!

That is all! Nice to meet you!

[dividers by saradika-graphics]

[mysticalsoot]

This is it, this is what joy feels like, doesn't it?

A/N: this was meant as my gift to my valentine for Grey's Valentine's Exchange but since it has been cancelled I decided to quickly finish it up and dedicate it to not only grey because they need it with how rough the exchange ended up being but also my new found friend on here! I'm really proud of this and Im very surprised at how much I wrote in such little time (5k is a lot okay lol) I hope you all enjoy it and happy early Valentine's! (I'm still gonna post a special Valentine's blurb!)

Pronouns: they/them, uses of y/n

Pairings: Cc!Wilbur x Reader

Summary: Wilbur and Reader have known each other since their early teens, and despite having painfully obvious feelings for the other, they ignore them in the sake of saving their friendship. James concocts an outing for the two and maybe it goes according to plan?

Warnings: swearing, angst but with a ton of fluff at the end! also there is a kiss but not detailed bc I in fact have never been kissed so I'm going off gut feeling lmao. also mentions of alcohol and drinking (I've also never drunk alcohol so I don't know much about that either so another guessing game there too).

Words: 5.3k

Dedicated to: @grey-rambles @loverboy-soot

masterlist

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James had invited Wilbur, Ash, Tommy, Rue, and you over to his place to hang out. It was mostly Mario Kart and James fucking screaming the Wario sound, but it was fun. There was food and a few rounds of uno with Ash, Tommy, and Rue, but despite all the festivities, Wilbur hadn't joined in any of them. He sat in the farthest corner from you and the rest of the group, the corner of James' loveseat didn't seem very comfortable anyhow. But there he sat, hands folded and rested between his thighs, his eyes darted from the group to the wall, to the TV, and back to his lap. He seemed so dazed like he wasn't fully there in the moment like he was somewhere else.

The absence of his laugh and his smile...and his voice, concerned you. It wasn't like him to isolate himself like this, it was one thing to stop answering messages and hiding in his flat but straight out isolating himself at a social gathering was nothing like him. You wanted to find him in his corner, bring him away from the others and ask him what was wrong, what you did every time he found himself anxious and shutting down. But every time you tried someone would pull you away, ask questions or bring you into banter. Staring at him, contemplating doing something wasn't helpful so maybe engulfing yourself in the festivities around you would help. It was selfish, yes, but there wasn't much you could do. The chances of him brushing it off and saying he was fine and completely ignoring the subject at hand were much more probable than him stepping aside and delving into his anxieties with you. So you pushed it aside and focused on whatever shit James and Tommy were debating about at this point.

“James,” Tommy pauses for emphasis, his hands folded in front of his face and eyes closed, “You are one deaf fucking bastard.”

“I’m hearing you! I’m just saying your point is invalid and ill-informed!” James counters, despite the possible hostility of their bickering, it's known by everyone that it's just light-hearted poking and prodding at each other, nothing substantial to be worried about.

Something you could slip away from easily…

“Says the man who is convinced that the creeper is the elite hostile mob in Minecraft?? It blows shit up and is extremely difficult to kill at the start of the game! The true elite mob is the zombie, they are slow and easy to hit.” Tommy then stands up and his face plastered with a smug smile. He knows he's right even if the topic at hand is trivial and childish at best.

"You're an asshole, Thomas Simons. I'm right, you're wrong." James is quick to poke at him, and you catch a small, soft smile forming on Wilbur's features. He's gazing at the chaos in front of you, no longer on his jeans or the spots on the wall. It's on the people now. His friends.

The thought brings a glimpse of hope to you, maybe it's just a fluke and he's okay. Nothing to worry about, he's not being self-destructive right now. It's okay.

It wouldn't hurt to get him to join the conversation, would it? "What do you think, Wil? Who's the most elite hostile mob?" You pose the question with a smile on your face, eyes locked on his, gauging how he was feeling by the way his eyes went wide and his mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. Anxious, noted, not anything new and revolutionary but something to note when speaking to him.

"Um, Skeletons I guess?" His answer is unsure and it's probably because he wasn't really listening in the first place, just observing his friends having fun and bickering, doing anything he can to keep his mind off the anxiety dwelling in his head.

“Skeletons? That is the most basic bitch answer! Also, it’s invalid because they can shoot you from sixteen blocks away!” Tommy counters his answer and he gets riled up again, rushing to pull up some sort of resource list as if this was a school assignment.

Wilbur’s face drops again, but his eyes are still trained on the group as they begin bickering again. Rur and Ash decided to chime in this time, both with their own very opinionated thoughts on the matter. It began to get tenser, despite the laughs and smiles, the abrupt yells were enough to push anyone already on edge even further.

It was best to get him out of there, even if it was for a moment. So you stood from your spot at the sofa to walk over to where Wilbur placed himself. Pushed into the corner of the loveseat farthest from the group. Now that you're closer, you notice how straight he's sat, his whole body is tense and his face is flushed.

You put your hand out to him, an offering, “Come on, Wil,” It’s muttered as a mere whisper, but he hears it. His head tilts up to look at you, eyes still wide and overflowing with unease.

“Okay,” He whispers, taking your hand in his and standing up from his own spot. His shoulders slouch, making him seem slightly shorter --- he still towers over you, but it makes him seem vulnerable and small.

You tighten your grip on his hand, in a comforting way and lead him out of the living room, through the hall, and into the dark kitchen. No one seems to notice the absence of either of you, they're too busy arguing over a block game to think about much else. He lets your hand go after the door is closed and he goes to sit on the floor in the corner of the room against the kitchen cabinets. Wil pulls his knees up to meet his chin and he wraps his arms around his legs.

“Are you okay?” You slide down the cabinet to sit next to him, your hand resting on his knee drawing circles with your thumb.

“Mmm, ‘m fine.” He mumbles, his head between his knees and his face hidden.

“As your best friend, I do not believe that.” You try to lighten the mood, be playful in hopes he’ll at least crack a smile.

“I’m fine.” He lifts his head and looks to you, despite how hard he tries it's not convincing.

“Yeah, yeah, and the queen’s alive. Come on, Wil.” You laugh, moving to card through the curls atop his head.

"I'm okay." He tries to fake a smile to rid your concerns but it's not that easy anymore.

"You don't have to tell me, but you can admit when you're not okay, love." The pet name was merely a slip for you and when you noticed you used it, you wanted to crawl into yourself. Hideaway and forget everything you said. Surely to others, it's not a big deal but it's not like you can give any hint at your feelings for him, feelings you know aren't reciprocated.

He simply hums in response with his head back between his knees, and you take your hand away from his hair and drop it on your lap. You want to help him, make him feel better but this is making you feel so hopeless. You can't let him wallow but he's stubborn, it's not easy to get through his shell.

"Wanna tell me about the French Revolution?" The question was merely a suggestion, a bribe to get him to speak in more than two words per sentence.

And it worked, his head lifted up almost immediately and his eyes were wide with excitement, "Really? Are you sure?" His voice is soft but you can practically hear the joy in the way he spoke.

"Of course, tell me all about it." As you mutter the last bit, you lean your head against the cabinet and gaze up at him. His smile is wide and he's now let his knees fall to where his legs are stretched out in front of him. Stupid lanky bastard.

"Okay so, the revolution of 1789 had maaany different causes, primarily economical and political," And so he went on for what felt like hours, but you enjoyed the chatter. You liked seeing him so giddy and happy over something he loved like this. He's an absolute history buff and most people don't care to sit still long enough to listen, except for his brother, you, and sometimes Ash. So you let him talk your ear off, you asked questions, and let him tell you all the little details and factoids he's learned over the years.

After a while, your eyes began to droop and feel heavy, and you kept having to pull your head back up to keep yourself awake. So you settled with resting your head on Wilbur's shoulder as he continued telling you about one of the many corrupt French kings. You wrapped your left arm around his middle and your right hand rested on the shoulder you laid on. You were comfortable and he didn't seem to mind the contact.

"Sleepy?" He breaks his info dump and runs his hands through your hair. You were far too drowsy to think twice about the action or to get nervous about it as usual, so you just hummed and nuzzled further into him.

"Keep talking." Your words were muffled by his sweater but he understood, and so he did just that. He continued on about the revolution and everything that came after before he himself began to doze off. His head leaned against yours and before he knew it, he was passed out too.

----

"Hey, has anyone seen Wilbur?" James chimed in, the Lion King plays on the TV, and everyone groans, and Tommy pauses the movie.

"Dude, it was the best part!" Tommy exclaims and dramatically throws his head onto the back of the couch.

"Sorry! Wil just disappeared, so I was just wondering if anyone saw him." James reiterates, hands in the air in surrender before dropping them to the floor on either side of himself.

"I'm sure the guy's fine, he's probably somewhere with his best friend anyways," Rue reassures James, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Those two are inseparable," Ash adds.

"And they are so obvious too! It's annoying." Tommy grunts in that typical little sibling way.

James frowns, clearly not satisfied with how calm and not worried his friends are. Ash notices and pats his friend on the back, and James' shoulders slump.

"Dude if you're so worried about them, go find them." Rue leans against the back of the couch, crossing her ankles and resting them on the coffee table. James growls and shoves her feet off the table, Rue then rolls her eyes. "So mean.."

“Fine, I will.” James groans and lifts himself off the floor where he sat and he as well makes his way out of the living room. He heads through the hall, peaking into the dining room; nothing. He checks the guest bed next, also nothing; and then his office, still nothing. He checks every room before he settles on checking the kitchen- the last spot he expected to look. The moment he peaks his head through the door he catches a glimpse of both you and Wilbur cuddled against each other, sound asleep.

“Aww, cute,” Rue whispers behind James and he jumps, yelling a slew of curses at his friend. She simply laughs in response. James looks back to be sure the interaction didn't wake the two of you, and surely it didn't. He would have never been so thankful for how heavy of sleepers you two were.

James backs away from the door, being sure to close it as slowly and quietly as possible, and then he ushers Rue down the hall and back to the sitting room where the rest of their friends were. He then happily plops down onto his sofa, right next to Tommy.

“So, are they okay?” Ash’s expression is one of concern, but calm still.

“Oh they're fine,” James takes a swig of the drink he left on the coffee table, “But we have some matchmaking to do.”

----

“We’re meeting at the pub around the corner, that's right, James?” The entire situation is confusing and getting a confirmation out of James is the worst hell that you desperately want to crawl out of.

"Yes, yes, that pub. I told you like ten times already." James sighs in a loud obnoxious way and if it weren't for the fact you loved him, he would be dead on sight. Or on sight when you both got to the damn pub.

"It's not my fault you give shitty instructions and clarification!" You do your best to whisper yell through the phone, he may annoy the fuck out of you but you don't hate him, and if he lost his hearing because of you—you couldn't mess with him.

"Oh my god, stop whining and get your ass over here." You're about to snap back at him and then he hangs up just as quickly as the words roll off his tongue.

You groan and drag your feet on the sidewalk, desperate to make your trek longer so you can postpone seeing James a little more. I mean, you love him but fuck can he be an annoying little shit sometimes. He's really good at it too and you don't know how he manages it.

Unfortunately, you're in front of the pub way quicker than you thought you would be. You're quick to open the door, and rush in before you push through the crowd to find any inkling of where your friends have situated themselves. James didn't mention which table the rest of their friends sat at, so you assumed he didn't know either seeing as he was on his way here as well.

You're about to give up when you spot a familiar Pinterest hipster across the pub. Wilbur is sat alone at a booth, holding what seems to be a simple water as he himself eyes the tables and bar as well as the sea of people standing around the place.

You smile and wave your hand at him, signaling that you're there. He smiles too, waving back and then gesturing for you to sit with him. You're quick to shuffle through the people surrounding you, muttering excuse me and I'm sorry's whenever you bump into someone or get just a hair too close to them. By the time you reach the booth, you're out of breath from swimming through the crowd. You plop down on the spot next to Wil and you rest your head face first on the table.

"Why is James so annoying?" You pose the question, all muffled and not really meant to be answered, simply spoken into the void.

"Hell if I know, he told me the rest of the group was here but I couldn't find them." Wilbur speaks in such a nonchalant way that you would think he did this often, wait for his friends to be there and either be late or not come at all. But you know he doesn't do this often, I mean it was more common in middle school and high school, but now he's an adult and you know his current friends wouldn't do that. I mean you're his best friend after all, you notice way more about him than you would care to notice.

"So you think they've ditched us?" You move your head to face him, eyes looking up to him and his own looking down at you. You swear you could see a smile forming on his lips.

"Hah, maybe." He laughs and then switches to gaze at his hands resting in his lap.

You lift your head up, and lean against the back of the booth. You rest a hand on his shoulder and he looks to you, "You're my favorite anyway." You pat his shoulder before removing your hand only for it to find great interest in the sleeves of the jacket you wore out today. One of Wilbur's old jackets his arms were too long for. It's oversized but it's comfortable and a hundred percent smells like him, so it's comforting.

"Ash isn't even your favorite?" He's smirking now and you can tell he's almost completely forgotten about James and the clan.

"He's a close second." You throw a soft smile to him and you can feel your cheeks warm and turn red.

———

"Wow, France is fucking shitty." You let out a soft laugh, taking a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage was the special—you didn't care, it tasted good and didn't burn horribly so it did just fine for you.

"I know!" Wilbur slurs and then laughs, throwing his head back to lean against the back of the booth. He turns to face you, smile wide and face pink from being a bit too tipsy.

"You're smart, Wil. You know that?" You rest your chin in your hand and look in his eyes. You never really noticed how rich and…deep they were. It was endearing to look at.

"Not really, I just know a lot." He shrugs, gaze dropping and face draining from positivity.

"Isn't that the definition of smart?" You reach your hand out to rest against his arm. He doesn't move or flinch. It's like your touch is second nature.

There's a silence, he doesn't say anything, you don't say anything. Your friends still aren't here and it's been an hour and a few drinks in—you're beginning to wonder what James' intentions were.

"They ditched us didn't they?" You lean your own head against the backboard.

"Oh they sure as hell did." Wilbur lets out a soft chuckle and the sight makes your heart flutter.

"Wanna go back to mine?" The question is simple and you play with the idea of looking away from him, to dull the sting if he says no—or rejects you without even admitting anything to him—but you decide to turn your head and gaze upwards at him.

A soft smile, a breathy laugh, he turns his head to face you, "Of course,"

It takes a good twenty minutes to get back to your flat, which is only a ten minute walk from the pub James tricked the two of you to go into, but with both of your slighter drunken states, it was safe to say it took a lot longer. Stumbling, giggling, slurred speech, a hand on the small of your back, your arm around his torso. There was no such thing as a ten minute walk on your minds.

The walk down the cobble path to the door of your flat is a tricky one. Wilbur only had a few shots but he hadn't been drinking in a while so his ability to handle much alcohol was severely lacking at the moment—so he was stumbling a lot. He nearly fell in the bush a few times but you were able to keep your grip on him, keeping him steady. You yourself weren't in the best of shape either, but you managed. Surprisingly neither of you had felt the least bit nauseous yet, which was a tremendous thing.

You struggled a few moments with your keys before Wilbur got off the wall where he leaned and said, "Here, lemme try." He was quick to find the right key and turn it in the keyhole. The door clicked and Wilbur turned the door knob and pushed it open. He stepped aside and bowed, his right arm over his stomach and his left out stretched in a gentlemanly manner. "Royalty first, as always." You smile and are sure your laugh is heard by the man.

"Why, thank you kind sir!" You exclaim, folding your hands like a queen in a ball gown and dramatically walk in the door. He laughs and follows you in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You lead him to the living room just to the left in the corridor and curl up on the couch and shove your shoes off your feet. Wilbur follows and does the same, his head next to yours and his legs curled up next to him.

"Hi," He whispers to you, smiling softly and gaze set up on you.

"Hi," you pause, readjusting your legs to be held against your chest. "I'll take the couch, you take the bed, that cool?" Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and so you rest them, unable to spot the reaction Wilbur gave you.

"No, not cool." He states plainly, your eyes shoot open. Did you upset him? What did you say wrong? Your mind runs wild and he seems to notice your anxiety bubbling. Your slightly tipsy self, not doing a great job at hiding it. "I take the couch, you take the bed."

"No, you take the bed, I take the couch."

"Darling," He warns and the pet name shocks you both, and it seems as though the alcohol has an effect on both of your filters, his and yours.

"I said what I said and I stand by it!" You cross your arms over your chest and playfully move to look away from him.

He groans in an artificial annoyance and you smile to yourself.

"How about this," He begins and you turn back to face him, he's sat up now, legs pulled up to his chest still. "We both take the bed? That way we both win."

"Mmm, as long as you're okay with it, I am."

Wilbur smiles and nods, "It was my brilliant idea, now wasn't it?" A smirk forms.

"Goddamn, you and your stupid ego." You roll your eyes and Wilbur huffs.

"Oh shut it." He snaps back, going to stand and walk out the door and across the hall to the bedroom. You follow him and quickly go to the cupboard on the left beside the door. Your bed is prepared to warm one person, not two, so you need extra blankets and maybe another pillow or two.

"Dude, when's the last time we shared a bed?" You break the silence, chuckling to yourself as you hear Wilbur shuffle around the bathroom—presumably to find his old toothbrush he left at your place that one time he stayed for a week six months ago.

"Like the last time I stumbled to your door drunk as fuck?" He sighs before exclaiming an Aha presumably because he found the toothbrush he was looking for.

"You really need to stop drinking that much, especially alone. I'm not always gonna be here to be a pick me up for your sorry ass." You throw the blankets you pulled out onto the bed and jumped in face first. "So comfy." It's meant as a whisper, but Wilbur manages to pick it up.

"Save some blankets for me, meanie." He turns on the faucet and he's then silent for a moment before the sound of brushing sounds from the bathroom.

"No, they're mine. I bought them with my money, dickwad." You grunt and turn over, wrapping yourself in a little blanket cacoon.

Wilbur lets out a laugh, and the faucet sounds again before the tapping of the toothbrush on the side of the sink. Before you know it, the other side of the bed dips and you feel a blanket being snatched from you. You don't have the energy to fight it, so you let it go.

"Wow, my best friend being generous to me? What world do we live in.." He mutters, laughing more to himself than anything.

"Too tired to care."

"Not because you love me? Oh my heart!" He dramatically clutches his heart and lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Only because tired." Your words become more slurred and they're muffled by the pillow you have your face in.

"Yeah, yeah." He sighs, and then tosses around a few times, getting comfortable. The bed creaks with his every move and you can hear him groan in annoyance at the sound.

The creaking stops, and Wilbur stops moving. He's situated now, but he's on his back staring at the ceiling.

Many thoughts run through his mind but one in particular stands out; Should I tell them?

The concept is foreign, expressing undiscussed emotion that could be detrimental information if provided at the wrong time—it's scary. What is he meant to do? Lye around and pretend he didn't get nervous at your touch, or your pet names or the way you willingly am letting him sleep next to you—and while the latter wasn't unusual in the past, it was now, given the two of you being in your early 20s and having been avoiding sleepovers since you turned 18. Although there was only so much you could do when Wilbur came stumbling to your door pissed out of his mind.

He bit the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? A Lot actually.

But he figured he should give context first, background.

"Do you know why I was sulking that day at James'?" He breaks the comforting silence that fell between you two. He doesn't mind it but he figured he must act now before he chickens out.

"I figured you were just having a bad day, and once I offered a France info dump you seemed pretty okay. Was there something I missed?" You turn your head back to face him, eyebrows knitted in genuine—sober—concern.

"I was upset," He pauses, beginning to place the pieces in his mind of what to say next and then after that and then after that and so on. "It's kind of stupid, I guess-"

You cut him off, "Nothing, and I mean nothing you say is stupid, Wil. I promise." You're sitting up now, crisscrossing applesauce on the bed, your body facing him but your eyes trained on his own eyes. "What was wrong?"

He closes his eyes, "I guess, I was getting sort of fed up with myself. See, I really really like this person—" He pauses to sit up himself, he gazes down at you as he leans his back against the wall. He reaches for your hand and draws circles on your palm with his thumb, his eyes painfully focused on the lines drawn in your skin. "They're wonderful, and one of my closest friends. I've liked them for a long while, love them even but a part of me knows they don't reciprocate my feelings—so I was feeling sorry for myself. It had been years and no moves had been made and so I felt hopeless. That person was so happy that day, and I was pissed I wasn't the reason for their smile." He sighs, letting go over your hand and leaning against the headboard, eyes closed shut.

Your voice is but a whisper, "Who is this mystery person?"

He hesitates for a moment, but he's this far already, there isn't any going back.

"You." The answer is simple, straightforward and blunt but it hits you hard nonetheless. Handfuls of emotion are thrown at you like confetti and you can't even begin to sift through and identify them all. You're in shock, that's for sure, but everything else? There's no telling.

You smack his shoulder, "William! You should have said sooner, you asshole!" Your tone is playful but your words would say otherwise. Elated.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He rubs the side of his arm, wincing for a split second before meeting your eyes.

"Not telling me." Frustration.

Silence, no more words slip from either of your tongues. It's simply quiet, the humming of the fan you set up hours ago, sirens sounding outside in the city —your breathing, his breathing. Fear.

"I like you too, you know." You look down, despite him already confessing to you, admitting this is still terrifying, and odd to you.

"Oh, I know." He smiles, and you mentally smack yourself for saying something you know would get some stupid snarky comment.

"You and your damn ego, Soot." You shake your head, smiling fondly at him.

"Oh but don't you love my ego, my dear?" The man is still tipsy.

"Hey, why don't you shut up?" He smirks, and you immediately regret your words, well, partially — he reaches his hand up to rest on your cheek, and he brings your face closer to his, lips millimeters apart and breath fanning on each other's faces.

"Can I?" It's a simple request but you nod, smiling whilst your heart warms. He leans in closer, your own lips meeting his in a soft loving exchange.

You smile into the kiss, giggling a few times throughout. You rest your hands on the back of his neck and his own hands fall to rest on your sides.

It's not as dramatic as you imagined, figuring if he felt the same he would have some grand confession —but you like this, you really do. It's calm, private—it's tremendously better than a heated confession in the rain, at least in your opinion.

You both break apart, smiles wide as ever and you're out of breath. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and your head hitting his chest, settling into him. It takes him a moment to reciprocate but when he does, his own arms snake around you, pulling you closer to him.

Wilbur's head dips down to rest on top of yours and you hum happily. This is it, this is what joy feels like, doesn't it? Warm arms around you, the sound of his beating heart—he starts to hum, what sounds like one of his songs.

The night goes on like this, the two of you wrapped around each other, Wilbur humming songs he knows or wrote and the occasional comment on how long it took you two, followed by laughter.

This was joy, he was joy.

The next day, you awoke to your phone buzzing like no tomorrow. You were groggy and really didn't want to even bother looking, but the sound managed to send you into a slight panic. Your legs were still wrapped with Wilbur's, and his head was resting on your chest and his stupidly long arms were pulling you into him. You looked over at the end table on your left and snuck your phone into your grip.

You groaned as you pressed answer on the incoming call that created your woken state. It was James.

"What do you want, James? It's 2am." Your tone is that of a very annoyed person, and James winces over the call.

"I hadn't heard from you and Wilbur's not answering his phone or his door, so I figured you two ran off and died." His words all jumbled together and you laugh much to his distaste, "Be serious here!"

"We should've run off, honestly. Maybe we would have gotten some peace and quiet then." You set your gaze down at the man with his arms around you, and you smiles sweetly.

"You're a dick—are you two okay? Do I need to send like a police force or something?" James is still frantic with how he speaks but you can tell he's calming down by the second.

"We're fine James, okay? We're at my place. We drank a little last night and my apartment was the closest." You pause, but before he can get a word in, "Thank you for setting us up." There's a smirk on your face and James can hear it in the way you spoke.

"What—I, I didn't set you up!" He's quick to his defense and you laugh.

"Yeah, no you definitely did."

"Did it work?" He asks, ditching the defensive attitude from the moment prior.

"Yeah, yeah it did. Thank you." You lean your head back, phone still pressed to your ear and your free hand carding through Wilbur's mop of curls.

"Good."

[le-panda-chocovore]

Can I ask from this ask game : https://www.tumblr.com/toomanyfandomsthings/749729499738996736/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-tell-you?source=share

No. 2, 10, 11, 12, 15 for SuguSato, BokuAka, AziraCrow, and Karushuu.....Thanks 🌻

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!

2. What do their love letters look like ?

SuguSato : Suguru is chill and poetic, he writes normally and puts some cute sentences here and there. He also has to remind his boyfriend to not make a mess while he's away. He signs it with "Love, Suguru" and his writing is super neat. Satoru rambles too much and writes completely irrelevant things and probably signs with "XOXO" and a ridiculously cute thing like "your babe" or "the person you love the most", he changes often. His love confessions are overwhelming because he just says what he's thinking without filter and he really loves Suguru very very much.

BokuAka : Bokuto doesn't know how to write a love letter. He talks about his day and describes everything that reminded him of Akaashi. He also compares Akaashi to random things like a dishwasher or a curtain (it makes sense in his brain, but only his). Akaashi is confused but finds that cute anyway. Akaashi is a bit more poetic, he writes pretty things and says I love you and I hope you're doing fine.

AziraCrow : Aziraphale's love letters are 10 pages long and full of metaphors and poems and comparisons and adoration. He sometimes sends an entire book or a collection of texts with his letter, saying "this represents how I feel about you" Crowley's love letters are 1000 words max but he's very clear about his feelings. It's easier for him to write down things than tell them face-to-face. Sometimes he just writes "Thinking of you. I miss you. Take care." and that's all. Aziraphale loves it.

Karushuu : Gakushuu writes like a general sending battle directives during a war, he signs it with "do not die until my return" or something like that. Karma's letters are... messy. Full of hearts and emojis and petnames (mostly to make fun of Shuu), he's purposely exaggerating to embarrass his boyfriend, he shares random anecdotes then says "are you missing me ? 😔❤". One time he put glitter in the envelope and Gakushuu still holds a grudge against him.

10. What TV shows do they watch together, and which ones do they hide from the other ?

SuguSato : Satoru made Suguru watch Digimon. Suguru secretly likes Barbieverse while Satoru pretends to not like Beauty & Fashion TV shows.

BokuAka : They watch Avatar: The Last Airbender and Percy Jackson & the Olympians together. I don't think they particularly hide anything from each other but perhaps Akaashi enjoys some chill shows on his own.

AziraCrow : Aziraphale watches BBC Sherlock when Crowley's not here, and Crowley watches house decoration or prank shows. When they're together they watch Cooking Shows.

Karushuu : They watch those Quiz Games and compete with each other on their couch, they try to find the answer before the participants. Alone, Gakushuu watches documentaries, and Karma watches telenovelas or reality shows to laugh at dumb people on TV.

11. What was their first impression of each other ?

SuguSato : Satoru -> "Bangs. Earrings. Baggy. Is he... a delinquent ?!" | Suguru -> "Pretty... Is this his natural hair color ? How can he be so pretty."

BokuAka : Bokuto -> "I wanna play with him I wanna play with him I wanna play volleyball!!" | Akaashi -> "Bokuto-sempai... I can't believe I'm going to play with him. He seems cool, I don't want to make a bad impression."

AziraCrow : Aziraphale -> "What are they doing.... Are they talking to me . . ?" *then after Crowley lighted up the stars* "Oh ! Oh that's really amazing and wonderful, they're a genius !" | [angel] Crowley -> "Nice lad" (was too focused on the nebulae to think anything about Azi)

*meeting in Eden Garden* Aziraphale -> "Oh that's- wait have they always been so beautiful ? Wait no I'm not supposed to think of that !" | [demon] Crowley -> "Oh wow they aren't a simple obedient angel at all, they're so daring and unpredictable ! Amazing."

Karushuu : Gakushuu -> "He looks so arrogant, but he never going to reach my level, I won't need to worry about him." | Karma -> "Fucking Nerd, he seems so annoying, I can't want to steal his first place and see his crying face."

12. What do they do for their anniversary ?

SuguSato : Vacations on the beach and long talk about how much they love each other.

BokuAka : Chilling day, staying at home to watch a movie and eat pancakes, perhaps a breakfast in bed.

AziraCrow : Dinner at Ritz and a long night walk under the stars.

Karushuu : They change for every birthday, they have a competition for the one who gives the greatest gift. Gakushuu won by proposing to Karma when they were 24. (Gifts included : Shuu stealing his father's credit card and walking through the town with his boyfriend, buying him everything he wants ; a weekend trip to a hot spring ; a serenade at 5am (Gakushuu almost killed his boyfriend) ; and other things.)

15. What would they change about each other ?

SuguSato : Canonically ? Nothing, they would change themselves for the other. In the AU where everything is fine ? Suguru would like Satoru to be more considerate toward others and Satoru would like Suguru to take better care of himself.

BokuAka : They're married, what is there to change about them ?

AziraCrow : Nothing. They would pretend to but actually, they wouldn't change a thing. (they would just like it if the other recognized being actually nice/a bastard out loud). Okay I changed my mind. They would make the other stop pretending to not be who they really are.

Karushuu : Karma wishes Gakushuu would break more rules and Gakushuu would like Karma to break way less.

_______________________________________

YAY IT'S OVER AND I DIDN'T TAKE 3 WEEKS TO POST IT THIS TIME !! Be proud of me :3

I'm mostly talking about High School BokuAka here, not the post-timeskip where they're both adults.

Next time send me just 1 ship at time because I'm losing myself trying to figure out how to do everyone LMAO