#I can't articulate it any better than that right now

[dribs-and-drabbles]

I'm looking forward to y'all's takes later on this ep but I SO LOVED how the show dealt with Pisaeng's bi/gay 'awakening'. And Max! God that sigh and eye roll, I'ma need someone to gif that for me. And then the rooftop confession and how goddamn beautiful it was for Kawi to just stand there and to know what was coming and to be the one to offer reassurance. Magnificent.

I don't know how the show is doing it. What magic they're playing with. But goddamn it's working, isn't i?

[isa-ghost]

isa my bestie. do u have any tallulah and phil headcanons

Always famsquad

Other qPhil headcanons

Take one look at this man and tell me with your whole chest he's confident. NO HE IS NOT. He gets so insecure about being a good adoptive dad for her. He internalizes the full extent of it but oh my god is he terrified she thinks he loves her less than Chayanne or only took her in out of obligation or isn't good enough for her in general

She makes him laugh SO MUCH. Her dramatics, her comedic timing, the Mexican culture things/memes she shares with him once in a while. Even when she doesn't intend to, she makes him laugh so often. Genuinely she makes The Horrors more bearable for him.

He hates not being great at words bc he feels like he isn't the best advocate for her that he could be. Example: when she was wary of the new eggs. He didn't know how to vouch for her beyond reassurances she'd come around. He wishes he could've articulated himself better bc he Understands her but can't put it into words to other people to the degree he'd like to.

He will literally never look at flowers the same way again. Tallulah literally overwrote his association of them with Rose. Now his first thought is "peepoHappy Tallulah!!" Instead of Rose. Rose is now second.

Tallulah genuinely brings out a gentler side to him. This man is hardened by survival and bloodshed and at least one death in his past. He's a bit closed off and suspicious out of second nature. She brings him out of that shell so easily, he doesn't even realize it's happening.

She can see right through his bullshit and it's so fucking funny. "I'm doing fine m8" and she's just like "[cocks gun] Doubt. Bitch. Try again." She WILL cure this man of his emotional constipation.

I firmly believe she'll be the one to motivate Phil to finally build smth on a Hardcore Project scale one day. Somehow. He'd do it for her.

If he ever says he doesn't like when she acts like a little shit, don't listen to him. He's lying through his teeth. Tallulah being a little shit amuses him endlessly.

Tallulah doesn't swear a Ton, at least not as often as he does. He wishes she did, bc whenever she does it's super funny and usually perfectly timed.

Her wing hugs mean the fucking world to him they make him so ;-; every time

Tallulah has somewhat adopted Phil's over-caution. She's a bit more traumatized by The Nightmare than Chayanne is. The "abuel" sign haunts her

Phil will sing stupid songs along to her flute until she hits him for his goofy nonsense lyrics

Speaking of her flute, her playing Sweden unironically gives him nostalgia and kinda soothes his nerves. It's like his cue of "the kids are okay, they're safe and happy." The first time he heard it again after Purgatory & the eggs' recovery, he cried a little (I'm projecting)

One of the reasons he was most salty about The Reset was because it meant they can't go to Tallulah's botanical garden, her farm in the wall, or any of her other cool builds

Phil found her the purple striped hat she has in Phil's chat emote. She has it fr so she can be Just Like Papa :D

[soobibabe]

only you chapter two

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pairings: kang taehyun + reader

July 14th, 2022

Kang Taehyun: sucess ;)

You find yourself standing in the kitchen, staring blankly at the coffee machine. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the room, but you can't bring yourself to pour a cup. Your thoughts are consumed by the implications of your engagement with Taehyun.

You still can't wrap your head around the fact that not only have you never been proposed to, nor been in love before (or so you tell yourself) yet you'll be married to someone you once resented in a matter of months.

With a heavy sigh, you reach for your phone, intending to distract yourself with emails and messages. But your fingers hesitate over the screen, a nagging feeling tugging at the back of your mind.

You need to speak with Taehyun, to clarify the terms of your arrangement and establish some semblance of control over the situation.

you: can we talk? Kang Taeyung: sure, when and where? you: preferably today, over dinner? Kang Taehyun: alright, I'll make the reservations for tonight

As you walk into the restaurant, you realize there's no one else here, other than the employees. Strange… This is the most popular restaurant in Seoul. Aside from the lack of customers, Taehyun isn't here either.

Ten minutes pass…

Thirty…

An hour.

He's still not here. Classic, how stupid of you to think he wouldn't pull stuff like this again.

"Y/n! You're her—" His hair is messy and eyes wide as though he ran a marathon to get here.

"Screw you, Kang Taehyun." You shove past his shoulder where he blocked you from the entrance, about to cross the street to get to your car.

"There's nothing you can say that's worth my time. As of right now, you've wasted far too much," you're fuming, so much so that you begin to walk onto the street without thinking.

Luckily for you, Taehyun grabs onto your waist and pulls you into him before you can make contact with any of the passing vehicles.

There's a pause between the two of you. Your bodies held together by his strong arms. His eyes piercing into yours like you're too fragile to let go of.

The moment startles you, pulling you out of your hate-fueled trance. "Y/n," he starts. You've never heard his voice so soft. "please, just listen to me" Unable to articulate yourself with words, you nod signifying that you're willing to hear him out. "Let me drive you home, I'll explain from there" you nod again, not quite sure of what to say. The ride is quiet for the most part. You message your staff to tell them the location of your car. Taehyun breaks the silence "I rented the restaurant to make you more comfortable since you said we needed to talk," oh. "I tried. I planned on getting here earlier but there was a department emergency, I couldn't leave" now you feel ashamed assuming the worst. like you always have. "I'm sorry, y/n".

"I understand, Taehyun. However, if you want this to work you need to be clear with me. If something came up, you should've called and said so" "I know that now, and I'm sorry." "Well, here's my place. I'll see you whenever, Taehyun" "Sorry again. We'll talk tomorrow?" "sure"

Later that night, you lie in bed, replaying the evening in your mind. Your thoughts are racing, trying to process what it is you're feeling. You think back to the restaurant, already growing overwhelmed by the mere thought of it.

You’d like to dismiss it all and say that you’re just being dramatic, but you can’t help but feel emotions that you thought were over by now.

Back in primary school, you worked hard to present as amicable as you could be. Reason being, you knew you were shunned behind your back by your classmates, particularly by girls.

You heard all the rumors they created about you. From "getting plastic surgery at 8 years old to look prettier" to "she thinks she’s better than everyone because she’s got daddy’s money." The same girls would say these things all while claiming to be best friends with you.

At some point, you’d given up trying and just let everyone believe what they wanted to. That’s when Sora entered your life. She was so nice to you.

So much so, that you gave her anything she would ask for. Even when you confessed to her your crush on Kang Taehyun, she started flirting with him.

You let it happen since she was your best friend after all.

Taehyun and you had a decent relationship then. You rarely spoke, but had most classes together. He walked you home every day, although you weren’t aware of it. After school, he’d walk far enough behind you to make sure that you got home safe without seeming overbearing.

You hardly spoke to guys anyway, so he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

During lunch one day, Sora decided to ask you your opinion on Taehyun again. Almost as though she had forgotten what you previously thought of him.

Not wanting to upset her, you lied straight through your teeth. “I think he’s a jerk. He’s arrogant and self-absorbed, I don’t see what you see in him anyway.” Sora smiled, seemingly pleased with your answer but her eyes weren’t on you.

They lingered on something behind you at the back of the classroom. You didn’t bother paying any mind to it.

Sora being here, listening to you was all that mattered.

After that day, Taehyun became totally distant from you. He no longer smiled at you in the hallway or greeted you good mornings like he usually did.

Instead, he ignored you. Acted like you weren’t there at all when you looked at him. Like you were invisible.

Since that day, Sora became closer to Taehyun than ever before.

Could it have been that she was feeding more rumors to him too?

No. Sora wouldn’t do that to you, she’s your friend.

Wasn’t she?

Whatever. You’ve been pondering on the past for too long. Before going to bed, you check your phone to see if Taehyun contacted you at all, which to your disappointment he hadn’t.

July 17th, 2022 "Chairman Kang, what a pleasant surprise!" Jeez this lying thing has become second nature to you. Why is he here...

There are lots of unexpected things that occur in your office. Like shareholder changes, emergency meetings... But this? this is new. Although, you should've seen this coming. Chairman Kang knows no boundaries after all.

"Clear your schedule next week. You and taehyun are to visit the Maldives for a few days~" "I'm sorry, WHAT?" "Well, my grandson and soon-to-be-in-law have to get closer somehow, right? This would be killing two birds with one stone. Taehyun only travels for work, he'll finally experience a non-business-based summer vacation" You can practically feel a vein on your forehead pulsing. He's out of his mind.

A/N: alot is happening... are you guys ready for whats next? hehehehehehehhee [evil laugh] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

tags: @lunathewritingcat add yourself to the taglist © all rights reserved soobibabe on tumblr. do not cross-post, copy or translate etc.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — 024

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (1.1k words)

❥･• chapter 24 — you

You stand behind a van at the entrance of the park, seeking cover beneath a magnificent tree. It didn’t help much that it was still bright out and your tear-soaked mask fails to conceal your emotions, which have been pouring out ceaselessly since you excused yourself from the dorm.

Fortunately, it being a quiet Monday afternoon, there are hardly any passersby. The few exceptions, mostly older individuals taking their customary walks, do not pay you much attention.

Silently, you rock back and forth, noticing the coolness in the air and the leaves on the trees around you transitioning to hues of amber and gold, signaling the impending arrival of autumn.

You can't help but find it ironic that the person you long to see after Ray dropped such a devastating bombshell on you is him. Somewhere amidst the late-night conversations and intimate moments you shared, Heeseung became your anchor. In times of adversity, he is the one who offers solace, the same guy who held you in a headlock nearly three months ago.

"Y/N!" Your head whips toward the sound of the familiar voice, and you see Heeseung running toward you. Chuckling softly, you notice he has thrown a coat over his sleeping hoodie, his tousled bed hair still in disarray, and his shoelaces untied. "You didn't have to rush!"

"I didn't want to keep you waiting—oh my God, are you crying?" Instinctively, he cups your face, trapping you between the unassuming van and his body. As if on cue, all the emotions you have been suppressing burst forth once again, and you find yourself uncontrollably sobbing, seeking solace in his arms. Heeseung gently caresses your hair while you try to muffle your sobs against his shoulder.

"God, I hate seeing you like this," he grumbles, his breath brushing against the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm sorry. Come to think of it, I always look like absolute shit whenever you see me."

"Hey, every time I lay my eyes on you is a blessing. Unless you're suggesting that I'm not only rizzless but also tasteless, I don't want to hear you say that about yourself." He huffs, and you laugh at his playful antics, grateful that they manage to lift your spirits, even if only momentarily.

"So, do you want to talk about what's troubling you?" He prompts, carefully studying your expression before delving deeper. "If it makes you feel any better, Ray seems much calmer now than when she first showed up."

"That's good.” You breathe a sigh of relief, your voice surprisingly calm. You create some distance between the two of you which leads to his hands dropping from your face to your waist, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your sides, much like the times when the two of you practiced the partner choreography together. Heeseung has always made sure you feel comfortable during rehearsals, and you've come to find solace in the little things he does for you, perhaps way too much.

You look up at him, a lone tear escaping the corner of your eye, and Heeseung swears he has never seen you so vulnerable yet so breathtakingly beautiful. It is no secret that he has an enormous crush on you, but he has never been certain if you reciprocate his feelings or if you consider him just a close friend, like you do Jungwon.

Heeseung smiles encouragingly, urging you to speak, and after deliberating for some time on how to articulate your thoughts, you finally do. "I just found out something that supposedly happened during I-LAND, and now I don't know what to do with this information."

"I know it's been ages since the show ended, and I shouldn't dwell on what happened, but I can't help but feel..." You trail off, averting your gaze while toying with the strap of his coat.

"Hurt?" Heeseung finishes your sentence, causing you to snap your eyes up to meet his. "Yeah, how did you…?"

"Ray filled me in before I left. YN, I've been where you are, more than two years ago. I know better than anyone what you're going through." It takes you a moment to grasp his meaning, and once you do, a laugh escapes your lips. "How did you manage?"

"Back then, we were all young and desperate," Heeseung begins, his fingers gently caressing your hair as he speaks, and you instinctively lean into his touch. "I believe everything happens for a reason. No matter how fucked up the situation was, it played a part in leading you here as the leader of Lumière."

"How so?"

"For instance, if you had ended up taking on the vocal representative role, you wouldn't have shown the rest of the I-landers that you in fact, don't consider yourself better than them." He squeezes your cheeks playfully, causing you to pout as memories of the incident resurface.

"Remember that conversation you had with Minjung on the balcony? You mentioned feeling pressured because of everyone's high expectations?" You nod, recalling the context of the heartfelt talk that was showcased in that episode.

"And if I know a thing or two, you were probably relieved when they took you off the role, weren't you?" He arches an eyebrow, and you mimic his expression, surprised that he read you like an open book despite not being there physically. "Honestly, yeah. But at the time, I genuinely thought it was because I wasn't good enough. For the sake of the team, I was willing to do whatever they wanted. I just didn't realise they saw me that way back then. I must have looked like a complete fool walking around like I owned the place."

"Y/N, respectfully, shut up." You stifle a laugh, and he smiles down at you. It's in that moment that you become acutely aware of how close you are to each other. A slight movement, and your lips would be pressed against his—not that you’d complain if it ever comes down to it.

"All that matters is that you proved them wrong. And if anything, I'm sure your members feel just as remorseful as Ray does, doesn’t excuse her for being a B-word towards you though.” Heeseung pouts, somehow more angrier than you who is in the unfortunate predicament in the first place. You mentally thank Heeseung for still respecting your members despite being visibly upset over it. It’s one of the traits you like about him.

“Talk to them, Y/N."

"I'm not planning to avoid it. I'm just unsure of how I should approach it," you confess, feeling deflated as thoughts of confrontation fill your mind. Yes, you may be the leader of Lumière, and may always seem like you’re calm and somehow have the answer to everything, but just like everyone else, you're human; you get lost and your feelings get hurt too.

“Come to think of it, if you knew what happened during our I-LAND, you must’ve watched the show didn’t you?” A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you recall how Heeseung vehemently denied watching it, only remembering you from the final episode.

"Be honest, you planned this to get it out of me, didn't you?" He playfully pokes your side, causing you to cave in on yourself, laughing.

“How could I not when someone as talented as you was performing one of our songs? On top of that, it was Fever?” You know he’s playing with you but you could still feel your cheeks heating up, as you smile foolishly to yourself. You were suppose to be the one teasing him, not the other way around!

"That means you voted too?" you ask, intending to turn the table on him.

“Of course, I did.”

“For who?”

“You.” (you in fact did not turn tables 🤡)

prev | masterlist | next

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i love how i’m going back and forth between heeyn and drama with these chapters 💀 some context for all my fellow engenes who didn’t manage to watch I-LAND (just to be clear, y’all don’t have to watch it to be engenes! in fact i recommend against watching the show, it was traumatic asf 😀). basically for their first mission, based on what i rmbr, Heeseung was originally part 1 (centre) for the signal song but a few of the ilanders didn’t really like the way he lead practises. So they, kinda conspired(?) behind his back and instigated to vote him out of the part and put Ni-ki up instead, he basically ended up in part 10 with one line in the song even though he was the most capable one there. this is not intended to throw any shade at any trainees at that time of the show (maybe seon 🫢), only for the development of the plot!! only love for all members of enha allowed <3 also heeyn situationship era is so fun to write y’all have no idea 👀

taglist! open @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @hoon0logy @aernx @lhees01 @flower0930 @harperwasstaken1 @haechansbbg @renjunoya @heeheesang @spilled-coffee-cup @jwnghyuns @ocyeanicc @neozon3nha @pshchives @casualzo @captivq @suvgs

[pochipop]

＃GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (CHILDE X READER).

#. synopsis! — childe knows he doesn't deserve this, but he just can't let you go .

#. characters! — childe .

#. warnings! — angst .

#. word count! — 1k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — this is my "from the vault" era. most of the things i'll be posting for a while will probably have been started anywhere from a few months to over a year ago. i have a huge google doc just stocked with fics that i started and never finished, so i'm trying to wrap some of them up neatly enough to post them and at least let them see the light of day lol.

It’s always lonely at the top.

On nights like this, Childe realizes that now more than ever. Snezhnaya is his home, —but in a more abstract sense of the term. He knows the snow-covered lands and the bitter chill of frost like the backs of his scarred hands, and yet this nation feels less like the soft place he can fall upon each time he returns from somewhere else. It’s the center of his youth, the place that fills most of his heart, but things have certainly changed since he was little more than a young boy who loved making angels in the snow. The world moves faster now; days bleed into weeks in a matter of moments, and there are many times Childe wishes that the weather could freeze time like it does everything else around here.

Still, maybe it’s better that it doesn't. Even if it did somehow, he’s not sure how he’d spend that time anyway. A part of him is all too certain that he’d waste it away, losing sight of his goals within seconds.

He’s always been too driven by madness for his own good.

The viscous truth of it all is that Childe craves acceptance, but doesn’t really like to be loved. Even as you sleep next to him, his arm clutched in your warm, forgiving grip; he doesn’t know how to put such thoughts to the wayside. Selfishly, he wants you. Sometimes, it feels like he needs you. Realistically, though, Childe knows he shouldn’t have you. You’re not much of a fighter, and your only ties to the Fatui are through him, which he holds an insurmountable level of shame and regret for. If not for him, he’s certain your life would be a lot less complicated.

You’ve even said so yourself, albeit only jokingly. Those few little quips hold just enough water for Childe to drown himself in them, though. He wants to push you away as his lungs fill in and oxygen depletes, but you’re so goddamn intoxicating that he can’t bear the thought of parting ways. You snuggle closer to him as if seeking the heat of his body, —as if seeking the protection it offers from any ghoulish figures that could pop up in your otherwise sugar coated dreams.

Childe isn’t sure what he’d do without this, —without the ability to come staggering home to you. Truthfully, you’re more of a home to him now than Snezhnaya has ever been. He yearns for nights like this more than you’ll ever know, more than he’ll ever be able to articulate properly, because Celestia knows he’s never been very good with words.

Not when they’re genuine, anyway.

He can put on a show just fine, put that charismatic mask on and make strangers fall to their knees at his feet. But once they get a glimpse of the monster inside that lusts for violence and bloodshed on every battlefield, they run for the hills. And Childe isn't naive enough to wonder why. He knows, probably better than anyone else ever will, that he is hard to love, and even more difficult to be loved by.

When everything is going steady, he likes to send some ripples through the water just because he can. He pushes buttons he knows he should leave alone, —maybe because he can’t help himself, or maybe because deep down, he wants to push you away. You can’t just up and decide that you want to see him rot his way back into the earth beneath his feet if he flips all the right switches and makes it happen at will. There’s no disappointment to be had there if he’s the one who incites it; like flicking a match and watching your house go up in flames.

If he does it to himself, there’s no reason to be sad about it.

Self-sabotage has always been kind of his thing. Still, here you are with your soft tufts of breath fanning against him, trusting him not to let himself snap to the point of no return and burn everything down around you both (figuratively and literally.) And for the life of him, —Childe doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t. You’ve always wanted a simpler life, one you know he can’t give you. . . But here you are, and he doesn’t have the heart to push you away like he knows deep down that he should.

If he’s being honest with himself, and this is one of the rare times that he is, he knows he should be building his walls high enough to force you out if that’s what it takes. Everytime you lay with him like this, he knows he’s stealing that tranquil life you’ve always wanted away from you, and it eats him up inside. He’s not what’s best for anybody, nonetheless for you.

He knows, he knows, he knows. . . He really should just—

“Hey,” you say softly, and his resolve crumbles away like the walls he tries to build between himself and you. “Can’t sleep?”

Childe looks over at you and pauses for a few moments, admiring the way you love him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. Then he thinks to himself that he’s never truly deserved it, and the cycle begins again. He hums in acknowledgement, and you hold him closer, like you’re trying to mend all his broken pieces back together (even if you don’t know it.) It won’t help him sleep, but it feels nice to be cared for like this. To be loved, to be seen. . . To be stripped bare in the moonlight that spills in from your window is a blessing sent straight from Celestia, and it makes him wonder just what he’s ever done well enough to have ended up here in his lifetime.

“You’re thinking too much,” you say.

He almost laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “I know.”

[visd3stele]

Aww Criston with kids is such a cute imagine!🥺 Can you write an imagine where the reader is pregnant or is giving birth and Criston is so sweet and caring? 🥺🥺

bet! not tumblerinas having Ser Cole played by Fabien for a few episodes and already making him a DILF. good for us :))

masterlist ; requests

tw: pregnancy, giving birth

One. Two. Three

The afternoon glamour bathed you in lazy light. Through the haze of a long sleep drifting away, you heard the well known chime of your children laugh. It warmed your heart better than any sun could hope to do.

"Inside voices, you two." A whisper outside your bedroom door sent tingles down your spine. Your husband, Ser Criston Cole has asked for a couple of week off duty as you neared your due time with your pregnancy. "Mommy needs her rest for the baby.

"But aren't we going to wake her up right now?" Kase, your oldest, said. He would be turning seven next week. You were hoping the next baby won't arrive until after.

Criston chuckled softly and you could picture him ruffling your son's hair affectionately. "Yes. But that doesn't mean we can't do it softly."

"If mommy has to sleep, why do we wake her?" Rosyn, the little girl who has just learned to walk properly last year asked loudly, articulating each of her words.

"Shhh, whispers, Rosyn. Can you do that? Can you talk like daddy does right now?" You assumed your baby daughter nodded solemnly, imagining the little frown she made as she concentrates. "We're waking mommy up because she hasn't eaten today. Nor did she drink any water. And the maesters advice to keep her active."

A smirk crept on your face. It wasn't exactly what the old healers had in mind, but your husband kept you very active... at night, when the kids slept and couldn't hear you two.

You plopped down under the covers as the door handle moved. You felt the bed lowering where Criston and the kids sat. He watched you adoringly, reaching a hand to caress your face. "Alright, kids, how do we wake mommy up nicely?"

"Oh, I know," Kase whispered excitedly. He cupped your face in his small hands and kissed your forehead. "Wake up, mommy!" He said in the low voice his father asked of him.

"My turn, my turn," Rosyn managed to keep her voice down until she pressed her mouth to your face. Then she made a loud noise of kissing and yelled "Wakey, mommy, wakey!"

"Rosyn," Kase chastised his sister. But before a fight could issue, your burst out laughing. Criston was at your side faster than a second, helping you sitting up comfortably. He arranged the pillow at your back, dropping a kiss to your mouth as he did so. "Morning, mommy," he winked.

You hummed contented. "Good morning, my love," you mused at your husband, rubbing a hand over you swollen belly. "Morning, my babies," your other arm extended an invitation for a hug.

Rosyn jumped towards you immediately, being stopped by Criston who picked her up and placed her at your side gently. Kase mumbled "I'm not a baby," before relenting and climbing up on your other side.

You kissed each of your kids on top of their heads. Criston crossed his arms in feign offence. "No space for me? What is this? I want to sit next to mommy too."

"No!" Rosyn pulled her tongue out at him. "It's our mommy." Kase didn't say anything, but hugged you tight in support of his sister's proclamation.

"Come now, kids. That's not so nice, is it? Look how sad daddy is."

Criston pushed his lower lip out, exaggerating a tremble and sniffed.

"Oh, fine. He can come."

Criston broke into a wide smile, picking Rosyn up again, tickling her sides as he did and scooping both of them in your embrace. Her childish giggling made both you and Criston fall into a sweet fit of laughter.

You stroke Kase's hair, not wanting to make him feel left outside and met your husband's hand on your belly. It was then when the yet to be born baby decided to kick. Criston's eyes snaped into yours, awe and delight bursting through in the teary sparkles of dark, deep irises.

When you finally got out of bed, the kids made you sit on a colorful chair they painted earlier the morning. "Daddy made us the paint, but we picked the flowers."

"And I helped him even with making the paint."

"You're both so talented, sweeties. Thank you!"

Rosyn and Kase pointed to different shapes and color spots on the wooden chair, explaining their meaning. Criston was in the kitchen, chopping some cucumbers, cheese and bread to go with the boiled eggs. The kids helped him serve the table, none of them letting you do any work.

"Daddy said you grow our baby sibling and it's work enough from you."

"Yeah, you can't lift a finger, mommy."

"Did daddy say that?"

"Well, I said you shouldn't have to lift a finger." Criston approached the table slowly, kneeling at your feet and cupping your baby bump in his palms. He peppered it with kisses as you threaded your fingers through his messy curls. "You should only focus on the making of our child. I can't imagine how exhausted that must be."

"It's all worth it," you whispered honestly, stealing a look at your two bundles of joy currently painting some of their toys with what was left from the colors made that morning.

Hours later, when the sun soaked the horizon in bright, warm colors while the moon climbed the sky with her cold, sweet silver crown, you felt a wet spot forming fast between your legs. You were sewing clothes for the baby in front of the fire - or trying tom, as you often forgot your work and watched Criston play with the kids on the boar fur carpet he hunted for on his own.

"Criston," you called, voice small and weak with so many emotions, so different you couldn't identify, nor separate them all. You were happy, of course, to bring your baby to life in the loving family you and your husband created. But you were also terrified. Giving birth was no easy task - the unbearable pain you would never understand how you survived twice already, the looming threat of death, the long hours of labor when you could do nothing but wait and push, wait and push as contrations broke your body.

"It's time." You added. But it was no need for it. Criston was already rushing the kids gently to the door, yelling for his page to fetch the midwife.

"Listen my dearests, your baby sibling is coming now. Kase, you remember when your sister was born we took you to the neighbors for the night, right?" When the boy nodded, Criston continued: "I want you to do the same now. And take care of Rosyn until I come for you. Can you do that?"

The boy nodded again. You whaled in pain, holding your belly as you walked around the room with a hand, as the other supported your weight on the walls.

Kase tried to look brave. He did remember how bad you screamed when Rosyn was born. He could hear it from next door. He has cried the whole night until Criston picked him up and he saw you in your bed, feeding a small baby girl. He ran to hug you, which your husband helped with, and didn't stop from crying until he saw you smiling at him. "Meet your younger sister, my sweet boy. Rosyn."

The oldest kid knew you will be fine, despite his hectic beating heart pumping ice in his veins. You just had to. But the little one started crying. "Is mommy dying?"

"No, baby, no," Criston hugged her tightly. "Mommy is going to be fine. I promise. You'll go stay with mommy and daddy's friends for tonight and when you'll come home, you'll have a new baby sibling and mommy will hug all four of us with so much love."

"You promise?"

"I swear on my knight's vows."

Criston stood in the doorway until he saw the kids entering the neighbor's house. Then he flied to you. "I'm here, my love, I'm here." You grasped his arm, gripping him tightly as the pain grew. Your eyes were shut close and good thing they were. If not, you would have seen the sick palor in your husband's cheeks, the way he munched on his lips and the worried expression stamped on his face: brows rose in panic, eyes hooded by fear. "You're so strong, my dear. You're doing do great."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because I've seen you do this twice before. Each time just as amazing. You're so much braver than I. So much more powerful. Don't forget that."

The midwife arrived, not bothering to wait be invited inside as the door was largely open. She took you from Criston, leading you to your bed. The woman felt your bump, confirming the baby was in the right position and ready to come out.

Criston trembled at the bedpost, holding your hand as you pushed and pushed and pushed. You cut his blood flow with the force you clung to his hands each time a new wave of pain shot through you. But he didn't even notice. All he could think about, all he could see, was your sweating face, mouth still pulling air in and out.

Near dawning, the cries of a new born filled the house. Another daughter to hold to your chest. As tired as you were, you couldn't help marvel at the sight of your newest child.

Criston wept your forehead with a cold cloth, leading the midwife to the door and cleaning the house before going to get the rest of your family. He, Kase and Rosyn found you and the baby sleeping.

"Mommy," Rosyn yelped, believing you dead. Before Crisoton could calm her down, you startled awake. "Mommy," she breathed relieved. And ran to see you.

With tired eyes barely kept open, you beamed at your older daughter. "I'm fine," you said. "Just sleepy. Baby Dharlae took her time."

Kase and Criston came to see her too. Your son and daughter waved their fingers at the baby, even though she couldn't see them. Your husband watched you with watery eyes. He put the kids to sleep, as they didn't catch much of it the night, and return to your bedroom.

Criston gently climbed in bed, snaking an arm over the bedpost, careful not to touch you. Childbirth left you overly sensitive, he knew. "She looks like you," you whispered to him. "The audacity."

"She'll grow up to be just like her mother. A goddess to bless the earth."

You rolled your eyes, though a smile played on your lips. "Want to hold her?" And without waiting for an answer - you already knew what he'll say - you place Dharlae in his arms.

Wide eyed, Criston muttered "oh, she's so perfect." You hummed your agreement, lowering yourself under the covers and resting your head on his thigh. You could fall asleep in peace, knowing your husband will put Dharlae in her crib soon and join you in the world of the dreaming.

Your thoughts grew heavy, anointed in honey. But before your conscious truly drowned in the darkness before dreams, you heard Criston kiss the baby's head, then yours, whispering with voice clumsy with emotion "thank you, y/n."

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

i guess in the end the thing about katya, to me, is like - there's this kind of obvious straightforward reading of her, right, a cautionary tale about the girl who wanted too much and lost everything, who played her hand too soon and was left holding nothing, all alone. you can read her isolation at the end as a parallel to goncharov's, an expression of the film's warning about what it really means to keep your enemies closer than your friends, and one that lands less satisfyingly than his does because while his storyline feels so deeply engaged with exploring what it means to be a man in this psychologically toxic and physically dangerous subculture of masculinity, hers reads more like a punishment reminiscent of so many sexist stories about ice queens who get their comeuppance. and, like, i get it, especially considering that god knows matteo JWHJ0715's track record on women is uhhhhhhhh.... not great. (has anyone seen hounds in the summer? that movie is like an incredible time capsule of exactly what the fuck susan faludi was talking about in backlash, like pure male neuroses served with an olive. diane keaton is sooooo hot in it though)

something does feel different to me about katya, though. and like yeah part of it is that i'm being generous because i do against all odds (and even with the fucking dinner scene) like this movie. but like - i just have such a hard time believing we're meant to view her as in any way a villain, when she's literally the ONLY person in the entire film who comes close to articulating what the movie is actually about at its core. all of the characters (except maybe poor sofia) have defined themselves around this core lack, this hole inside them where learning to be a person who really sees other people should have gone, this emptiness protected by barbed wire that keeps them trapped. katya's the same, except she's the only one who knows there's something missing. she knows there's something wrong - in her, with gorchanov, in their nightmare world - and like, yeah, she can't articulate it, much less start to imagine a better way, but like, how could she? she's never been given a model for an alternative - she's never even been able to look at how other people might live. (we don't get much about her backstory, but i think the mix of disdain and real sorrow in her voice when she says "that pig" about her father speaks volumes.)

and then it's like, the clock motif, right, this is textbook noir shit barely remix: the hands of fate, the slipping sands. it's always already too late because time is always already running out. (this is like, half of what andrey's entire Deal is imo.) you can't escape destiny; you can't even take the brief respite of forgetting it's there, waiting for you, dragging you down like gravity. but somehow, in this movie that circles back on itself so compulsively it feels at times almost like a song cycling through refrains, in a movie that's about how impossible it is to leave once you've committed to a version of yourself that needs to stay in order to retain coherence - somehow, katya gets out. messily, blusteringly, tragically even. half by accident. with blood on her hands and an ocean of regret that will never wash it out. (i know the bathroom scene is not a lady macbeth reference but... in my heart it is. lmao. katya would totally ask the spirits to unsex her.) but she gets out. and there is ultimately something to me there - the idea that the way out is by knowing you need to get out. that you don't need to know what the road ahead looks like to take the next step forward. that it is a step forward, even if it's not what you wanted or not what you thought. even if you wouldn't have taken it, if you'd known what was coming. but you did, and now you have to live with it, but maybe the important part is that you lived. you're alive, to take another step, and then another.

i keep thinking of that shot of her at the window somewhere late in the movie but not yet near the end, after everything's been set in motion: just katya, watching the city pedestrians below her through the blinds (speaking of classic noir shit). we don't know what she's thinking there, if she's scared or excited, if she's already doubting herself or if she's still sure she can pull this off the way she planned. we're not even in the room with her. she's so isolated in that shot - from the people she knows, from the citizens below, from the viewer watching on the other side of the blinds. but she doesn't look unhappy. she looks calm - almost at peace, if that can be said to apply to anyone in this movie. and, like, obviously she won't be for much longer; things are about to start crumbling, and it's going to hurt. but i like to think that moment of katya watching, waiting, alone and unafraid, suggests that maybe there's a version of herself she can come back to, or forge anew, on the other side of all this. she'll lick her wounds and wonder about what she did wrong, but she'll also pick up the pieces and take another step forward. and like - i just don't think that we have to read that as cold. i think we can just read it as surviving.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

If you don't mind I'm going to be horribly demanding and request more delicious thoughts on Kaz and his female coded story. Sorry but I'm eating this all up!!

No sweat Anon! I will say it's a thought I kinda had offhandedly once and left alone for a long time, so I'm having to think way back a bit as I consider it.

As an obvious quick note too, it's sort of a random interpretation I had. It doesn't have any real bearing on canon anymore than my other random thoughts do. It was kind of like, at some point, I noticed that Kaz had a storyline and writing style I've gotten used to seeing but with women.

The jilted ex hellbent on revenge. Someone who is more well known in story for his emotional issues vs how physically imposing or strong he is or isn't. I don't know about everyone else, but when I first think of Kaz, the most memorable thing that comes to mind is his emotions. Being unable to manage ones anger is very 'masculine' a trait, but being beholden to those emotions is a 'feminine' quality.

I'll say too, revenge as a motivator is a common story theme. And its very present in films and the like. This is certainly not a 'female only' thing, and there's SO much nuance that has to be applied. And to be perfectly blunt, I can't fully articulate 100% why I especially have this feeling with him, but at some point in one of my nightly Kaz spirals, I had the thought of "Kaz is written the way I'm used to women being written", and, after mentioning it, I sat on it, never gave it really much expansion, and haven't given myself the chance to really put into words why I feel this way.

It's sort of like..

Kaz gets dismissed a lot. Kaz isn't taken seriously a lot because he lets his emotions get the better of him. (Which is largely his fault, if he could calm down for five seconds and take a breather, he'd be able to put his very honest, very intelligent thoughts into words). But he doesn't give himself that chance. He screams, shouts and acts impulsive instead.

Meaning he gets written off as being 'too hysterical' to take seriously. Which is something we see a lot in female characters. Who often get pushed aside in narratives despite being smart, or having a point, because "She's too hysterical right now don't listen to her."

Kaz is known for being jealous. Manipulative and 100% ruled by emotions and impulses. He makes extreme decisions at the drop of a hat, but places fall apart without him managing the books and the records. He tries to overcompensate, and get taken seriously, but it leaves him getting underestimated and written off. Because for every serious thing he says, for every legitimate point he makes, its either screamed or shouted.

Or, full of biting sarcasm and snide remarks. He's a 'playboy' in Peace Walker. The man with a full hair care routine in a jungle. He's been 'caught' and brought in by a man more powerful and more respected than himself, and while he tries again and again to be on equal footing with him-and fully believes he ought to be, it falls short.

(This isn't excusing Kaz either, his entrance into the MSF is a rabbit hole I've gone down before, because it's very hard to put into black and white territory and victim/abuser territory. It requires deeper thought and more critical thinking).

Anyway.

I think another way to look at it, is that if I imagine Kaz as a woman, his story..really does not change that much to me? It's got all the elements of the supporting/leading lady role. And as a retroactive character (as in, a character that was originally very much a one note they build backwards by making him more meaningful in the prequels) he gained importance in the narrative, but backwards.

(I'm aware this doesn't make much sense, it's so hard for me to articulate this one properly sorry).

To be a tad crueler about it, think of the stereotype 'nagging wife'. Its not hard to imagine Kaz like that. At all. In my head. At the end of the day, it's something I'd probably have to think about more, but it kinda sits in the back of my mind occasionally.

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

julia on a thursday

julia and annie were not good at planning weddings. "we're two overeducated sluts and we don't know what we're doing," annie told the wedding planner.

the woman, andrea, patiently articulated the steps they needed to take, and what annie was traditionally expected to do as maid of honor. they made andrea print them out a list.

the plan was for a wedding early next summer, and before long they managed to book a venue and get save the dates made up. this seemed like enough, and so they went back to annie's apartment and drank champagne and did blow.

julia's lease was running out on her apartment, but rather than move in with jim, who had roommates, she was electing to move back in with her dad and stepmom. annie hated this idea. "jim should move into your place," she suggested.

"he can't break his lease until march," julia said. "it's fine, i am kind of looking forward to learning how to like, be a wife."

julia's father had remarried about 15 years ago -- julia had two stepbrothers, 16 and 17, who she only ever really saw at holidays. "i still think of them as toddlers i saw on weekends," she said.

a few days later, they were helping pack up julia's apartment, along with jim, julia's dad, and annie and robbie. annie was very stoned, and at one point reached into one of julia's bedroom boxes to pull out a dildo and lip sync with it for robbie's entertainment. julia's father saw her. annie turned red and put it back in the box. they all had pizza in julia's empty apartment after. annie sat on the floor, well aware that the teen boys and julia's father could see her white panties under her short skirt.

"when will you tie the knot, annie?" julia's dad asked.

"oh, who knows?" annie laughed. "i'm not in any serious relationships right now."

"that's ok," said julia's dad. "you'll get there someday."

"yeah," annie said, "i'm a catch."

"you are a catch you know," julia's dad told her later, when they were driving the uhaul together. julia and jim followed in a truck, and robbie drove the boys in annie's loaded up car. "great job, pretty face, great rack."

annie laughed. "thank you. i always say my tits are my best feature."

"do your patients stare at them a lot?"

"i tend to wear less-cleavage-y tops at work," she said. indicating her tank top.

"well, we appreciate the casualwear," he said.

"it makes it really easy to flash my friends' dads," annie said, pulling her tits out.

"good lord," he said. "even better than I thought." his cock pulsed in his jeans.

"can i suck you off while we drive?" she asked.

"yes please," he said.

annie took a few pictures with julia's dad's cock in her mouth to show julia later. he made a mess of her face when he came, and julia took off her panties and used them to clean her chin.

"does my daughter have a nice hairy pussy like you?" he asked when he saw it.

"no," annie said. "she has a landing strip like a real slut."

he laughed. "that's nice too."

annie opened her phone and found a picture of julia naked and showed it to him.

"oh wow," he said. "great tanlines."

"i know, i'm so jealous," annie laughed. "does your wife have a nice hairy pussy like me?" she was pulling her cummy panties back on.

"no, actually," he said. "shaved clean like a good suburban mom."

"not a city slicker slut like me?"

"yeah," he said.

"you gonna fuck her hard for me later?" she asked.

"of course," he said.

annie said hi to annie's stepmom in a way that she hoped didn't communicate "i used my panties to wipe your husband's cum off my chin." they moved some of julia's boxes into a spare bedroom and the rest in the garage. robbie and annie drove back into the city and then fucked in the kitchen. after, annie sent julia the pictures of herself sucking her dad's cock.

"oh holy shit," julia replied. "you are a monster."

"hot though right?"

"of course it's fucking hot," julia said. "how am i gonna look him in the eye over breakfast?"

"maybe with an open bathrobe," annie suggested.

"if jim wasn't sleeping next to me i'd jerk off," julia replied.

"go to the bathroom," she said.

20 minutes later, julia texted "LOL OMG"

"what?" annie asked.

"stepbro walked in on me rubbing my clit in the bathroom."

"yesss!" annie replied. "did you have panties on?"

"no!" julia said. "i was naked!"

"amazing," annie said, "he saw everything?"

"everything," julia said. "and i haven't shaved in like a week."

she sent a picture of herself nude in the bathroom, looking mortified. her pussy was pretty stubbly, but her tanlines were still amazing.

"they're lucky kids," annie said. "such a hot older sister. they are gonna jerk off about you so much."

"nooo!" julia said.

"LOL" annie replied.

[ghosty-schnibibit]

alright, so, now that i am not an incandescent ball of fury:

i was extremely disappointed with go2 and downright angry about the way it concluded. i've already read some excellent posts by other lovely people that articulate some of my grievances really well (which sadly i can't link here or the site will eat this post entirely) but i want to add my own to the pile. if you enjoyed the season then more power to you, but i very much did not.

after this post i won't be complaining about s2 again or really posting anything about it at all, positive or negative, and will probably just block the tag entirely. like i said in my much shorter vent post last night, i just want to get all of my negativity out in one go and then pretend it doesn't exist. with that out of the way:

the pacing was terrible. the plot went in circles around itself and the mystery was handled so poorly that it somehow managed to be too convoluted and too simple at the same time. we spent five entire episodes wondering what was going on only to have it resolved by an exposition dump of about five minutes. the mini-sodes ground multiple episodes to a halt and squandered the majority of the season's runtime on pointless fanservice that cheapened some of the previous season's most emotional moments, runtime that could have been better spent setting up the gabriel mystery or developing literally any of the new characters introduced. speaking of which,

the new characters were pointless. nina and maggie were given no characterization beyond being pale expies of az and crowley, and the fact that a substantial part of the b-plot revolved around them makes this even more apparent. i do not remember the name of the angel pretending to be a constable and i don't care enough about them to look it up, they had literally no plot significance whatsoever. same goes for the processing demon from the third episode. the flip with jax from being a somewhat neutral character to a big bad in a party city wig felt like a failed attempt to recapture some of what made hastur and ligur work in the previous series.

gabriel and beelzabub. their relationship was unbelievable and clashed so heavily with their previous characterizations. i called it from the first episode and dreaded its conclusion right up to the finale. they feel like an ill-thought parody of ineffable husbands pulled out of an enemies-to-lovers crackfic. every romantic moment in the last episode was insipid and cloying, and them getting a consequence free happy ending retroactively cheapened the stakes of the previous season. it honestly felt like the writers just wanted to mash their dolls together.

aziraphale's character was assassinated and crowley was basically just there to play the hits. both of them were flanderized to the moon and back, but poor aziraphale got the worst of it. all of his character development from the previous season was thrown out the window in order to give us the big angsty conclusion set-up for a third season. they were both utterly flattened and i feel so bad for michael and david, they were clearly doing the best with what they were given but what they were given was just plain bad.

most of the humor and warmth from the book and the previous season were just… gone. no narrator, only one or two comedic asides from the title cards, a total of maybe three minutes of queen music across the whole thing (and most of that a piano cover), and a whole lot of little stylistic touches that went by the wayside and left the world feeling a bit hollow. also the comedy in this season was much more reliant on a "hey, aren't the characters acting so silly right now? aren't they failing at looking/acting normal? isn't that funny?" style of humor than on the wit and subtle satire of the first.

it was nothing but set up for a third season. learning this after finishing the season did not make me feel better about any of it, but it does explain a bit why it felt like all set up and no pay off. i have zero confidence about the ship being righted in a potential s3 that we likely will not see for many years (if at all, i'm already hearing murmurs about the show getting axed).

so that's basically it. i'll reiterate that if you enjoyed this season then i have no beef with you; your opinions are your own and, while i have no desire to have a dialogue about them, i respect them. but the original good omens book was very personally meaningful to me, as was its adaptation in s1, and this poorly thought out continuation has disappointed and saddened me to the point that i feel like i don't want to engage with the fandom in its wake.

[strixcattus]

I'm supposed to be working on other things right now but I'm thinking about that question on the survey that asked about which ending you preferred/considered canon. And I'm about to say a lot of things that may or may not make sense or all be related to one another, and I'm not sure they'll come out in a parseable order, so I may or may not even end up putting this in the main tag. We'll have to see.

I chose the answer I consider best. Or, least bad. And not in a narrative sense—after the update, I like the scene of the "And? What Happens Next?" ending better than perhaps any other. But I chose the one that I believed led to the most favorable scenario after the end, which would be the loop ending. And I've got a post in my drafts, half-written, that explains in detail why I consider each ending to be a "bad ending" for the world or the characters or both in some form, which I had to put on a back-burner because I wanted to ensure I wasn't doing some sort of bad-faith reading on the Shifting Mound during my discussion of one ending, and even though with the benefit of distance I can see I generally wasn't I've never gotten back to it. To sum it all up, each ending requires you to trade away something the game's story makes you value (unless, I suppose, you come to hate the Princess and by extension the Shifting Mound, or the Shifting Mound and by extension the Princess, on a nonnegotiable level) in order to resolve the narrative, but the loop ending allows you to put it off ad infinitum. What you're sacrificing is the resolution itself. So you lose nothing, and gain nothing, and probably something really horrible happens to the world, but you don't have to think about that part.

But I consider the canon ending to be "There Are No Endings." Maybe it has something to do with it being the first ending I got. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I consider it the optimal outcome for the world—you sacrifice everyone who's unconditionally been on your side this entire time (Shifty doesn't quite count, since she wasn't present in the same way the Voices were) in order to maintain balance and surety. Maybe it just says something about what I value, and that unseen value says something about the endings.

Shifty's right. She doesn't get it right about what you, the player, feel and value (unless your values happen to align with hers—mine don't, but I know some people's must), but that's how people are. She says it—and normally I'd go sifting through the files or the game itself for when exactly she says it, but it's late and I have other things to do, so I'll just say she says it very early on—she says very early on that she cannot know your mind, because you are not her.

It's the same way as your final words to the Voices in the mirror. None of your options are poorly worded. If you expect the Voices to take the harsh truth gracefully, that's an honest mistake, because you can't know what's going on in their heads. Your options are to lie kindly, or tell them a truth that will make them hate you, because just as you can't see inside their heads, they cannot see inside yours, and they will assume you must have some other choice. You don't. But you don't get to articulate it. Lie or hurt them. Those are your only options.

But aside from that Shifty is right. I've seen people ask—and this was early in my entrance to the fandom, and I don't know how much discussion went around about it because I wasn't in the circle, so to speak, even less than I am right now, but I've seen people ask if Shifty could have killed us.

That's not the question to be asking. Of course she could have killed us. She can do anything we believe her to be able to, and if we believe her able to kill us, she can. She always could have killed us.

But she never would have, because she knows. She knows something as a god that you cannot know until you choose to raise yourself to her level—she knows that a universe without either one of you may not be a universe worth living in. She knows that she needs her counterweight. She may not value people on the same level you might, but she does not want them to suffer—she specifically wants them not to suffer, or at least not to suffer in a way she could have prevented. She is a detached god, not a cruel one.

She's right. She's forceful, but she's right, and she can't understand why you would rather be a person than a god, because she has never been anything but a god, and her Vessels are as much a part of her as your Voices are a part of you, but while you lived alongside your Voices as a person before cannibalizing them, she only welcomed her Vessels back upon their absorption. She does not know firsthand what it is to be a person, but she is right about everything else.

(I have to wonder if she is less cruel to her Vessels than you are to your Voices. Hers maintain their form throughout.)

And now this has me thinking—what if the Voices are you? Not in the way in which they're obviously you. I mean that you live your life, you make your decisions, and then you die. And then there is a new one of you. But the new one is not the Voice that has appeared in your head. The new Voice is the old one, fully realized into his own person with a personality you can no longer mold, just as the Vessels are not their own persons until you make the choices that make them into real people. The new entity is you, unmolded, without any personality save what you, the person who does not exist in this world, pour into it.

[xr0tt3nxfl3shx]

To be human (or worse, prey)

My strange roommate fic!!! (I've never writen fanfiction before lmk what you think [be nice about it though pls])

I have felt quite different lately, a feeling I was once familiar with has taken a new shape.

I live with a man, a human man, one I should’ve eaten a while ago at that. As I walk past my roommates bedroom I resist my hunger, ‘can’t eat him yet’ I thought. I go over my pre-established reasonings for keeping myself in this less than savory situation.

I need to integrate into this society somehow, my roommate is my only frame of reference for human normalcy really. As much as it’d be easier to just eat him now, I cannot understand these people on my own. Clearly there's much to learn if I ever want to move on from merely hunting forest creatures. That's not to mention the payoff, after a long week of pretending to feel things I can't, there is nothing better than fresh meat.

As always I have made it back from “work” right before dusk, and in the same way I am preparing food that I cannot eat. Though my roommate never assigned me this task, it's a necessary part of my contribution. I’ve found humans like it when you make yourself useful, and he doesn’t have the time to do this for himself.

Maneuvering this vessel is more difficult than I thought it’d be. Humans make it look so easy, moving fluidly with every action while I find myself fumbling over every little articulation. They expect you to move even when it’s unnecessary. Apparently not taking part in their hand gestures and arbitrary body language is frowned upon.

Searing pans and mixing bowls rest at the bottom of the sink. I heard his car as it pulled into the driveway, and the lock’s click as he unlocked the door. He greets me at the entrance with a small wave and a polite smile, but only polite. How passive. He still treats me as though I am a stranger. I set his plate in front of his usual seat at the dining table.

He takes his seat and I take mine right across from him and stare as I always do, though I can’t help but get lost in my thoughts. I’ve heard him on the phone, he aspires to get a job he knows is out of reach for him. He listens to music in his room when he gets ready, he says it motivates him. He cares when other people get hurt, even though it doesn’t affect him. All things that I’m constantly reminded are normal amongst people, yet completely foreign to me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t–

“Hey, are you alright?”

He spoke uneasily.

“You’ve been staring for.. a while now.” Yes I’ve heard of this, staring is considered rude isn’t it? He looks at me pensively, like he's trying to figure me out. It’s the same look he’s been giving me since I cooked and served him his cat last week.

I don’t understand this reaction, why would he raise such a creature if not to be eaten, perhaps he was saving it for one of those special occasions. You know how they are, humans and their special occasions.

“I’m going to watch this new movie, over on the couch,” he says.

Why is he telling me this?

“... if you’d like to join me maybe.”

Oh. This is quite unexpected, maybe I misunderstood our standing. He shifts around, seemingly getting more and more uncomfortable the longer the silence stretches on.

“I’ll uh- I will be in the living room.”

I didn’t think this far ahead honestly, I thought I would’ve eaten him by now. This offer is one I would expect of an acquaintance. Are he and I acquainted?

He’s already gotten comfortable in the living room by the time I come in. “Oh! You actually came,” He wasn’t really expecting me to take him up on his offer was he? He makes room for me to sit near him on the pillow adorned couch, more for decoration than comfort. “I mean, I’m glad. Come sit!”

I sit next to him, awkward movements every step of the way, this place is one I usually only experience in passing. There was never any reason to be in here other than to enter the kitchen. I believe I’ve spent more of my time in his room than here. Admittedly I sometimes watch him at night, controlling my gluttony is no easy feat. At least I can take solace in knowing when this is all over snuffing him out will be no issue. Besides, It's his fault for leaving his door unlocked.

I sit with my hands clasped in my lap. I never know where to put those things.

With a few clicks of the remote he’s signed into some kind of account, playing some kind of film. I am technically looking at the screen but I pay no attention. I can’t while he’s here, just across the couch yet still much too close. I watch him from my peripheral vision, only about fifteen minutes in and he seems to be entranced. It's fascinating how invested he is in this.

Maybe I can settle down a little as well.

I don’t really know when but eventually I found myself invested in the movie on screen as well, and that came with a new-found serenity. Caught in a fictional world, I think for the first time I wasn’t hyper aware of my surroundings or the people in them. Just for a moment I didn’t feel the need to stalk or hunt and it wasn’t life or death. Only for a moment though.

My roommate clears his throat, the unexpected noise was jarring to me in the state I was in. I nearly forgot he was even there.

“The movie’s almost over already, huh?” he said. He’s closer than I remember him being, it would seem we got closer as we adjusted to more comfortable positions on the couch. I don’t like that.

“This is weird isn’t it?” I have no gauge for what’s ‘weird’ and what's ‘normal’ here, but I’ll go along with it.

“Me asking you to hang out with me out of the blue like this I mean. I just had a long day and-” He sighs, sounding quite dejected. It’s not like I have anything else left to do here. it's

“None of my friends have picked up the phone either, I really appreciate you, you know, being here and all that.” I watch the corners of his lips tug into a frown, muscles I haven’t quite learned to use yet, as he runs his fingers through his hair. I scoot just a bit closer, there's this look in his eyes. Something sad, vulnerable even. I try my best to soften my demeanor, to present as something that's not a threat. It does not come naturally.

He looks away, glancing back at the screen, unsure of himself I’d presume. Maybe I can be of comfort. I place my hand on his where it rests on the couch, I try to remain non threatening. This contact feels deeply strange, I can feel every inch of his warm skin from the tip of my fingers to the end of my palm. He might agree given the look on his face. He looks me up and down with widened eyes, is this not how you comfort?

The serenity I felt is long gone but something different has taken hold of me. It's a familiar feeling, quickened heartbeat, amplified senses, adrenaline pumping through me, but how can I, in fight or flight, feel so still. “Oh.. wow. I didn’t-” Hesitance laces his voice. “I didn’t take you for a very touchy person.”

I’m stuck being acutely aware of every little twitch of his hand and every little thing he does yet unable to do anything about it. Something’s changed.

My heart pumps in my chest, there's heat running up my face, a feeling rising in me with every second our skin remains touching. Something must be seriously wrong because as visceral as this feeling is I cannot for the life of me pull away. I can’t help but feel my very life is on the line as he reciprocates my touch and interlocks our fingers.

I feel so though I am suffocating as if something is gripping my heart and lungs, the air is heavy. The silence is deafening, every sensation overwhelming but with my muscles locked in place there's no end in sight. Why does he have to look at me like that, like there's always something he’s leaving unsaid.

And the hints of curiosity in his voice like he wants to know more, he thinks I don’t notice. And why does any of it have to bother me so much? Why does he have to make me care? Maybe I’m becoming weak.

What started in a moment ends just as quickly as his hand slips out of mine. I am already growing cold without his touch. “Again, thank you for being here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He doesn’t sound so sad anymore at least. My heart is no longer pounding against my chest so hard, though I’m still left to my thoughts, and ultimately I am left feeling empty.

I’d want him to come back and make me whole again if it wasn’t for the horrible feelings that came with. But it's no matter, it shouldn’t be long before he falls asleep and he never locks his bedroom door.

—————

I'm by no means serious about the ship but i think its neat tbh, also nonhuman characters are so real to me so theres that

Hope you enjoyed X3

[indestructibleheart]

petalwrites is now IndestructibleHeart

Hi, friends!

As some of you know, I've been through a lot of changes this year... and one of those changes involved a lot of thinky-thoughts about gender and coming to the realization that I'm demi-femme (or genderqueer; I use both terms). I started using she/they pronouns, which I'm really comfy with, but I've been thinking a lot lately about wanting a more gender-neutral name that represents all of me... and this is the safest place for me to explore that.

petal → stevie

As Charlie Spring would tell me, I don't owe anyone an explanation re: my gender or why I'm changing my name, but I actually want to open up a bit. I'm just going to do it under the cut below.

However, the tldr is this: I'm not a girl, but I'm not NOT a girl (hope that helps!!). I'm gonna start going by Stevie in online spaces because it better fits the person I'm becoming. I've changed my URL here, my ao3 username, and my nicknames on Discord. I love each and every one of you for cultivating a space where I can explore what being demi-femme means to me, since I'm not quite in a place to change my inherently feminine government name IRL.

cw for talk about both gender and losing my dad (spoiler alert — I didn't choose Stevie for Stevie Budd, as precious as she is to me):

The name "Petal" being pretty feminine is something that's been on my mind for a while now, and I thought pretty hard about what name felt most like me. When the name Stevie popped into my head, it was because of Schitt's Creek... but something else clicked right after.

It was my dad's name.

(Well, his name was Steve, anyway.)

And, while we had our differences over the years, he was the first person in my family to wholeheartedly support me when I came out. I told him I was a lesbian and he was literally like, "Cool. You want pizza for dinner, or...?" Yeah. Didn't bat an eye. Especially given that he passed in June, of all months, it feels like a fitting tribute to take his name with me on this journey.

For me, the gender spectrum is complicated. It's a place I'm still learning to navigate... and that's why I'm choosing a name that feels like it suits me wherever I happen to be on the slider at any given time. Having a place where I can make these kinds of changes and do some self-exploration is just... like... I don't have the words to articulate how much that means to me.

This community has been nothing but wonderful every step of the way here. Hell, this community half the reason I felt safe and comfortable enough to start doing all this self-reflection in the first place. So, thank you for that.

I know referring to me by a different name is gonna take some adjustment, but that's okay!

Just like I am both she and they, Petal is a part of me, too... It's just not all of me. I want to introduce myself with a name that fits like a comfy sweater, rather than a dress that I only wear on certain days. Y'know?

(And, really, this is more about me needing a space to safely explore some gender neutrality when I can't IRL than it is my being uncomfortable with the name Petal. So, don't stress about it.)

I hope that makes sense outside of my head... but I guess it's also okay if it doesn't.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Set Me Free Part 9/15

Part 10 and 11 are already out on my Patreon!

Ruben and Carla have grown apart. With Rubens career taking off he leaves Portugal to live the life of his dreams, breaking Carla's heart doing so. Years later, upon his return home, Ruben learns that Carla has moved on, happily engaged to another man, but not any man, Ruben's childhood bully João Mendes.

Enjoy!

The wedding was back on. Or at least Carla's mother thought it was. She even went as far as to book a dress fitting. Carla only went along knowing how happy it made her mother. She could always keep the dress for the right moment. Or better yet, the right man.

Nevertheless, Carla and João agreed to take things slow, without any pressure to rekindle their relationship, and for that Carla was thankful. She was happy to stay with her mother whilst João stayed with his parents. They agreed to meet up for lunch a couple of times a week, which was great, however that one time they ran into Ruben was more than awkward for Carla. He came jogging down the street whilst they were walking hand in hand. Ruben looked to be in full beast mode as he was focused on his workout, ear pods in his ears. Not to mention the sweat dripping from the split ends of his hair. Carla did her best not to stare. Ruben's steps had altered at the sight of them, Carla and João, reunited, holding hands. Carla convinced herself that she only let go out of sheer surprise of seeing Ruben. João, on the other hand, wasn't as convinced.

"Ah, Ruben Dias." He sighed, but by then Ruben had backed off, rushing to cross the street once the roads were clear. "He's never been very articulate, that guy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Carla muttered, her hands now stuffed in her pockets.

"It doesn't matter." João chuckled. "To be honest, I thought your reason for coming back here was to see him."

"Who, Ruben?"

"Yeah. I mean with him being back to train with the national team and all. It made sense that you'd be running back to him."

"To you." Carla frowned. "It made sense to you. I came here to see my mother and you know that, João."

"I know, I know." He said, quick to grab Carla's hand by pulling it out of her pocket. He kissed the back of it. "Let's not fight, okay?" 

She nodded, ignoring her rising temper that often came with João's sly comments, especially the ones he'd make about Ruben, long after Carla considered herself over him. "Okay." She said, happy to move on from the conversation. 

Another thing Carla found annoying about João was his inability to use his phone for what it was originally intended for. A simple call to cancel their latest lunch plans could have prevented Carla from hitting the road during a full blown rainstorm. Carla discovered João's text message when she got stuck at a stop light.

"Great." She sighed and made the attempt to make a U-turn. It was only possible since it appeared that Carla was the only person stupid enough to be out driving in the rain.

She got as far as to the next intersection, but unfortunately it was flooded with water and mud, making it impossible for her mother's Nissan to come through.

"Fuck!" Carla slapped her hands on the steering wheel. She was stuck.

The winds howled and the rain lashed down, making it difficult for her to see more than a few feet in front of her. Carla got impatient and made the mistake of getting out of her car. She got back in as quickly as she had stepped out. She sat there, shivering and soaked to the bone, with no idea of what to do. Then came a figure approaching through the rain.

"It can't be."

"Mrs Fernandes?" 

He knocked on the window.

"Mrs Fernandes are you okay? It's me, Ruben."

"Ruben?" 

Carla pulled the car door open to find him soaked from head to toe, looking down at her with wide eyes.

"Carla?"

He had been out jogging despite the storm, recognizing her mother's old car. How couldn't he? She's had it for centuries. Ruben looked like a drowned rat, but Carla was grateful to see him.

"Ruben! Thank goodness you're here!" she exclaimed. "The car broke down and I can't seem to get it started again."

Ruben peered inside the car, his eyes widening as he saw the steam rising from Carla's damp clothes. "What are you doing out here in this mess?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"I was supposed to meet..." She paused, to which Ruben raised a brow. "It doesn't matter. Help me get the hell out of here."

Ruben nodded, his teeth chattering. "Move."

He made Carla unbuckle her belt and scoot over to the passenger seat. As Ruben took the wheel, Carla couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. The two of them had many first in her mother's car, which was really her dad's old car. Their first kiss, their first time holding hands. Carla even got as far as giving Ruben his first blow job in this car. Hopefully, a memory only remains between the two of them. 

It was strange though, being stranded with him in the middle of a storm. But it was clear that Ruben would always be there for her family no matter what. He would have done the same to her mother as he did to her.

"Thanks for helping me, Ruben," Carla said, her voice softening. "I really appreciate it."

Ruben glanced over at her, his eyes locked on hers. "Are you cold?" he said, his voice low and husky.

"A little. Mostly my hands."

Carla was shocked as Ruben pulled the car over to the side of the road. He had just gotten it going again, away from the puddles.

"Give them to me."

"What?"

"Your hands, give them to me." 

Carla did what she was told, putting her hands in Ruben's. He cupped them together and blew into the cradle, the warmth of his breath heating up her skin.

It was the little things. Carla remembers loving Ruben for the little things he did, like never letting her freeze on his watch.

"Is that better?" He asked.

"Much better."

Ruben continued to blow despite it, just to be sure.

"What about you?"

"Me?" Ruben looked up form her hands, a slight shiver in his voice.

"You're gonna catch a cold." She said, quickly reaching for the blankets her that her mother kept in the backseat. Carla made the motion of throwing it over her shoulders along with Ruben's, however she froze mid movement as Ruben tugged at the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

"Right." Carla said, as he looked at her expectantly. She let the blanket rest in her lap as she made the motion to remove her own top, however her hands were still a bit numb from the cold.

"Let me."

Heat rose to Carla's face when Ruben offered to help. "Ruben you don't..."

"What?" He chuckled. "It's not like I haven't done it a thousand times before."

It was true. In this very car too. Borrowing Carla's parents' car and letting Ruben take her down to the creek to watch the sundown, was how she spent most of her Fridays as a teenager. But that was a long time ago.

"There." He said, having helped Carla drape the blanket over their shoulders. They now sat elbow to elbow, skin gracing skin. The warmth of Ruben's body made her realize one thing.

"Why were you out jogging in the rain?"

Ruben turned his head, but turned it back to watch the rain run down the window shield. It didn't matter, Carla already knew the answer.

"Ruben, if there's a problem you could always talk to..."

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?"

Carla sighed. "I was gonna say a professional."

Ruben nodded. "Of course you were."

"Compulsive exercising is a disorder that you shouldn't feel ashamed about." She said, careful with her words. Not many people knew about Ruben's and his ways, how he thought that he always had to be up and about to be somebody in this world. A reason for Carla's move from England back to Portugal was because Ruben could never seem to get it through his head that with or without football, she loved him nonetheless.

"Could you just pretend?" Ruben sighed.

Carla frowned. "Pretend?"

"Pretend that I'm a stranger. That you don't know anything about me and me you. That sitting in this car half naked isn't something bizarre, considering your family, including your fiance, is probably worried sick, wondering where you are right now and would be fuming to know that you're with me, a man who refuses to go to therapy for his compulsive exercise disorder. A man who would rather fuck around than to find out what's wrong with him. A man that you want nothing to do with. A man that doesn't deserve to have anything to do with you, or your promise. Could you just do that, Carla? Pretend, just this once?"

Carla nodded, her head lowering itself to rest against Ruben's shoulder. She whispered, "I can pretend."

"Good."

It would be like a dream. A dream soon to be forgotten.

"Are you still cold?"

"A little."

"Give me your hands."

Then again, Carla has always been a lucid dreamer.

Part 10 and 11 are already out on my Patreon!

[sobasluuurp]

Hawks' reaction to seeing Twice again is so fascinatingly tragic. Because it shows just how deep the Hero Commission has their claws in his brain.

We know from his interactions with Nagant that he's got the heart of an idealist.  That he still has hope for a better future and sees the best in his disgraced and villainized predecessor.

He even uses the phrase "optimist to a fault" to describe himself. Which is such a strange thing for one of the most morally grey heroes in the series to say. So what does he mean by this and what can it tell us about his character, his circumstances, and human nature?

Like Nagant, Hawks was scooped up by the HC at a young age with promises of heroism and grandeur. Like Nagant, he was subjected to intense training and forced into the role of an assassin for the rest of his childhood with likely little to no contact to the outside world, which might've made him question the HC.

The HC saved Hawks. Saved him from a life of abuse, neglect, and homelessness. So he took his lessons in stride and played his role well. By the time he realized what was up, he was in far too deep to back out and he knew it. But he also knew that he and his mother were in an undeniably better place than they were before the HC stepped in. Knew that because of them, he had the opportunity to save scared little kids, just like Endeavor did for him.

(This is very different from Nagant, who looks to have been feared for her quirk as a child. In the scene when the HC picks her up, she has bandages on her arm as if to keep her quirk from activating. At the time, she probably saw the HC as a savior from her life as nothing more than her quirk -- only to find later that by following that's exactly the life she was binding herself to. Which explains why she defected and he didn't.)

So to Hawks, the HC is a sick but ultimately good force in society. Because he believes in heroes above all else. Endeavor, his savior, was a hero. His father, his abuser, was a villain. Even knowing now that both Endeavor and the HC are tainted, the lessons that idealizing both of them taught him remain.

Even when his heart is telling him to go a separate route. Even when he wishes he could save Twice, he leads first with a violent attack and then with a promise of rehabilitation. And in the end, he kills him anyway. Even now, confronted with the fact that killing a person he didn't want to kill didn't actually solve anything, he yells, "Kill them!! NOW!!" without second thought.

Hawks clings blindly to the sermons of his youth like a drowning man clinging to a branch. It didn't work the last time -- but it worked for a while! It meant no Sad Man's Parade in the first war! That's good, right? And these people who he wants to kill are bad. All For One even said so himself! No matter that he can't articulate what exactly "good" and "bad" are. The answer is just as obvious now as it was back when he was a kid! Any other nuance is just AFO trying to manipulate him.

So he sticks to what he's always known. Because it's the only way he's been taught to handle problem solving of this magnitude. Because this is the only way things have ever been, dammit. If things change now -- if the world didn't have to be this way -- then how could his idealist heart ever cope with the lives he's taken? How could he live with himself knowing he could've saved more lives and created a brighter future than the one he's currently living?

I hope that after the war Hawks is able to process his emotions, his past, and his actions. That he's able to move past it and endeavor to create a society where kids aren't taught to kill and problems are solve proactively with compassion first instead of feathers.

[goatcheesecak3]

YOU SHOULD WRITE FOR ADAM MORE. PLEASE. OR DEAN, YOU ARE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER FOR BOTH OF THEM

AAAAAA SUNNY I LOVE YOU💕💕💕💕

Here's some dating dean hcs because I have MANY thoughts on this man

His love language is acts of service. He tends to view most relationships as transactional, he will rarely do things for others without expecting something in return, so you know how big of a deal it is that he does things for you without ever expecting anything back. When you're with Dean you can forget about carrying your own bag, paying for your own food or even rolling your own cigarettes. Dean wants to do it all for you, to show you how much you mean to him.

Your relationship is fast paced and intense. Dean doesn't ever feel casual emotions, he can't just love you, he's hopelessly, irretrievably in love with you. It's borderline obsessive, he's never felt unbending loyalty to anyone but himself before, but when it comes to you, he would do absolutely anything for you, and he makes sure you know that.

With the epic highs, come the epic lows too. Arguments with Dean are heated, frenzied and unpredictable. Dean loves you so much that it's almost painful for him, and he finds it hard to believe that anyone could ever love another person so ferociously, let alone you loving him with that same intensity. Most of your arguments stem from this issue, he's terrified that one day you'll turn around and tell him you don't love him, so sometimes he starts a fight just as a way to get it over with and give you an out.

The arguments become less frequent when Dean finally begins to understand that love isn't just something you feel, but something you do. No matter how strongly he feels love for you, he knows the feeling alone isn't enough to maintain a relationship; he has to improve himself, he has to compromise, instead of just worrying that he isn't good enough for you, he has to do everything he can to be good enough for you.

He thinks you're the smartest person he's ever met. The way you articulate your thoughts, the way you remain rational and logical without letting your emotions get the best of you (something which he struggles with) are traits that he really admires. He could listen to you talk for hours, just in awe.

You're the only person he cries in front of. Dean's been through a lot, and late at night sometimes he just has to let himself feel. He's beyond thankful that he doesn't have to go through that alone anymore, every "Shhh, sweetheart it's okay", every night you've stayed up, rubbing his back and holding him while he cries, helps him more than you can ever imagine.

He loves just goofing off with you. Skipping lectures to go plinking (shooting cans and beer bottles etc), watching horror movies and trying to make eachother jump, or just observing the rich kids from a distance and laughing at their ridiculous designer clothes.

Kisses are his favourite thing EVER. He's not one to shy away from pda either, he pretty much always wants to make out with you.

He's a big spoon for life, he thinks you're the most adorable thing he's ever seen and he loves just holding you tight and protecting you as you go to sleep.

He's willing to change for you, he no longer just coasts through life seeking cheap thrills. With you, he found purpose, and despite all his flaws, he's gradually getting better.

A/n I'm half asleep while writing this so ignore any grammatical errors etc, I cannot brain right now.

Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details

Check my pinned post to find my masterlist too :^)

Replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated :^))))