#If he's in a generous mood he might even explain what they meant. Not like he has to worry about Dipper getting betrayal ideas in his head

[tswwwit]

Consorts/concubines/wife turning out to be backstabbers being really common in the demonic world, especially the ones higher in the social ladder, and some demons expecting dipper to be a traitor/backstabber. So demons that had a grudge against bill tried to communicate with Dipper that they're on his side for the betrayal, and dipper who is just starting to learn demonic writing doesn't understand all the subtext and metaphors.

Random Demon:"yes.. With someone so close to bill on our side, our plan will be complete!"

Dipper trying to decipher who is this guy that keeps sending him these cryptic letters and what does he mean by saying "To kill a no leg lizard with fangs is to make a trap with big mouth bird beak and the anger of mice thousands":

Very true! Lovers and partners turning out to be backstabbers is likely pretty common in the demon realm. And idioms and cultural references are super confusing, if you don't have the reference point!

Dipper's left reading about his opportunity to "Be the Urk'lagash of toe tickling' and immediately being

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Breaking Their Trust

Requested: Hello, I hope you're doing good :> could I request something for the boys with a reader who accidentally break their trust ? (I'm in the mood for some angst 💀) Take your time, and don't forget to rest ! - @stinkysam

Requested: please write preference for the boys + homelander reaction to your betrayal Thank you 💓 - anon

A/N: I hope you don't mind my loves, I combined the requests just because the posts would be really similar :) I live for angst!!!! Thank you for requesting! I really hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Butcher was kind of expecting it. After all he's done to the group, turning your back on him wasn't such a huge surprise. He's been an ass lately. Selfish and erratic and stubborn and generally unkind. Going against him was your way of showing him his behavior was unacceptable. He can't blame you. He knows what he's been like, he knows he's basically unrecognizable, but he has a good reason for it. He's never felt the need to explain himself to others, especially not you, so even if he thinks it's all justified, you have no idea. He knows you have never agreed with him on anything, but this is just too far. Both of you have gone too far. Because you're going against Butcher, the rest of your friends are behind you in your decisions. They all agree with you. He's lost it. It's the right decision to betray him.

Hughie can't believe it. Butcher, he would have guessed. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last time that he's betrayed the group. But you? He wants to ask you why. He wants to know why you did what you did. There's gotta be a reason, a good reason, something to rationalize your decisions. No one else thinks so, though. No one else believes you had a reason. And they tell him this. No one wants to hear the excuses you have for why you did what you did. Only Hughie does. He doesn't care if it's silly or stupid or whatever. He just wants to know why. It kills him that you did this, but it hurts even more than you might not even have a reason. You might very just have done it because you did, because you felt like it.

Annie is speechless. You try so hard to explain yourself, why you went behind their backs for your own self interest, but she doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want to see you. You beg her to listen, but she's done. She trusted you with everything and instead of returning the favor, you used it against her. She's sick. Sick of the betrayal, sick of you, sick of idiotic justifications you've come up with. She refuses to acknowledge you, ordering you to get out, to leave and never come back. You never meant to hurt her. You never meant to break her trust. You truly thought what you were doing was the right thing. She couldn't and wouldn't understand. You could explain until you were blue in the face, she wouldn't hear it. She was done with you.

M.M. isn't shocked. You've always done what you wanted when you wanted. You've always gone about your business without thinking about others, even those closest to you. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't hurt. He thought, he hoped, after everything you've gone through, you would at least come to him first before deciding to do something so crazy, something so selfish. You hurt your friends in the process, all of them reeling from your mistakes. He's one of them, though he tries not to show it. He has to be there for everyone else, he has to be safe and solid and dependable. It's up to him to show them that there is still someone they can trust, someone who will take care of them and look after them and be there no matter what. You fucked up. You burned bridges. You turned someone the kindest people against you for reasons he can't understand. It's up to him to clean up your mess.

Frenchie is in denial. You would never do anything like this. You would never turn your back on them, on him, no matter the reason. But you did! Everyone is trying to tell him, to get it through to him, to make him see that this version of you in his head no longer exists. He's more than hurt. Butcher would have done this, everyone was basically expecting it at this point, but not you. Never you. Frenchie begs you to explain. There's gotta be a good reason, right? There's gotta be something that made you turn on everyone you loved and cared for. It crushes him that you don't. Your justification is flimsy at best. You did it out of your own self interest. What could be more selfish than that? He refuses to believe it, coming up with fantastical reasons as to why you betrayed them. He could imagine all he wanted, it didn't help at all. You still did what you did.

Kimiko shuts down. After everything you've gone through, together and separately, she truly thought the bond and trust you had would never break. That it would last forever. You were in this together, you promised. And yet, you did this. She doesn't want to believe it. She doesn't want it to be true. When you try to talk to her, to explain yourself, she shuts you out. She shuts everyone out. If she can't depend on you, trust you, the most important person in her life, then is there anyone she can rely on? She comes to the conclusion that no one is safe. No one is worth trusting. She goes back to her old ways, blocking everyone out. The Boys aren't sure what to do, how to help. You were the one with all the answers and now you're gone. Shut out.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're dead to him. If you don't disappear quick enough, you will be. He was convinced Webweaver was the mole. So, he got rid of him. Eliminated the problem. But the issues didn't stop after he died. It was after you left, quietly, silently, nonchalantly, that Sage pointed out the mole wasn't Webweaver or A-Train or even Ashley, it was you. All along it was you. Sage told him not to overreact, to think this through, that this was all part of her plan, but Homelander was outraged. He would hunt you down and kill you as slowly and painfully as possible. You didn't just hurt his feelings, you betrayed him. You disrespected your friendship, your relationship, your bond. You lied right to his face and he had no idea. Now you would pay. He didn't care what Sage had planned, he would make you realize just what you've done to the most powerful Supe in the world.

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut!Bonus) Part 2.2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

Words: 3,7K

a/n: I swear it's coming to an end! I honestly wasn't going to use this part of the writing (that's why it's a bonus), but I ended up thinking it would be interesting to post since it was a story with good interaction. Furthermore, I enjoyed giving dimension to their intimacy!

Part1

Part2

...

"You have to be polite and gentle with me, Mr. Turner," your voice was sweet, and although soft, it didn't hide your concern. Seeing you unsettled made Alex feel uncomfortable in his own skin, which also meant he'd do anything to ease that for you. He ran his thumb over the pinkish pages of your notebook, immersing himself in each sentence and coherence. The tension in his shoulder muscles relaxed, and his facial expression became more pleasant as he finished and looked at you.

"No adorable wrinkle between your eyebrows, is that good?" Your chilly fingers touched his face, causing him to briefly close his eyes as you delicately traced the tips along the bridge of his nose. His mornings were much better with you there; he was certain that the days were brighter and undoubtedly his mood was better, akin to the feeling when waking up for a school trip when you were a kid or maybe not as sweet as that thought, but always good, he concluded to himself as he placed his hand on your bare waist, feeling the warmth within you, under his blazer that you had been wearing since yesterday. The combination of his clothes on you and your typical knee socks were adorable to him. He was in his usual white button-down shirt, that was entirely wrinkled and open, avoiding suffocation as he slept in it, which explained why he was only dressed in that. The fact that time had passed, and you both felt comfortable in such a setting without glamour or excessive importance, made it sound poetic to him; he might wear the same attire frequently, but it was a thought to him how you saw him.

You sipped on your orange-colored fruit juice, something essential he made sure to get during his grocery shopping to make you feel comfortable there with him. He once again felt uneasy seeing how you were still breathing tensely. He sipped the tea, which had already turned cold, and chuckled to himself as he tasted the sweetness on his tongue. You had woken up earlier, presumably immersed in your thoughts about the writing you needed to submit for one of your applications, and amidst that, you had made breakfast for both, an unusually large quantity. Alex understood it calmed you down, although he felt guilty for having a heavy sleep and not waking up together to mitigate the catastrophe your overthinking was capable of generating for yourself.

"Are you going to submit this?" he placed the cup on the table, adjusting in his chair. He hated putting sugar in his tea, but over time, he associated the taste with the one you always made for him and how it was to have you around, he would never let you know about it. He’d continue drinking in the same way, regardless. "Should I have more? Should I have a plan B?" His smile disappeared, and he shook his head. "I didn't say that, I like this one, little one." You calmed down at his touch, his large and warm hands on your skin, his thumbs tracing the area up to the curve of your breast. "But you think I could have been better, don't you?"

The affection in his gaze, as well as the calm circles he traced on you, eased the tightness in your chest. He smiled lightly, realizing that even with the momentary poor choice of words, he was managing to help. "I would take about 20,000 more of these writings from you in a day, without any suffering, believe me." His arms wrapped around you, his soft face against your stomach, the texture of his beard making you laugh as your hands tangled in his tousled hair. Sometimes he made you believe that being a teacher was torturous. His sleep-swollen eyes gazed at you, so affectionate and clouded with admiration as always when it came to you, and he concluded, "But I know you well, I like your writing, I like it enough to understand that you're trying to explain every stroke when you could leave more to question or simply open-ended." The tone of his voice was serene, punctuated, and precise; you appreciated how candid he was with you. "I like you just the way you are, I'm sure you're enough.”

You were at a loss for words, a silly smile gracing your lips as you hugged him closer. His face nestled against your skin. He could still hear your racing heart, but your fingers were more carefree at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. Before you even hesitated to pick up the notebook again, he squeezed you tighter, this time pulling your arms so that you were comfortably wrapped in his chest. He had a morning aura, lazy yet strong, a bit mixed with yours. He kissed your cheek, pressing his lips against yours for a prolonged, tight peck that made you laugh. Without letting go, he murmured, "Think ‘bout it later, please? Let's rest our minds and come back refreshed to work on it, it'll be better, princess." Amidst tickles on your shoulder, running towards your neck due to his growing beard, you gave in, letting go of the notebook as he briefly lifted you in the air as if in victory and carried you. With solemn blinks, his eyelashes brushing against your cheek, you already saw the ceiling, Turner's characteristic warm yellow lighting, his melancholic yet cozy personality making you feel wrapped in calmness within the sheets. The weight of his body intertwined with yours in a hug, the lazy and repeated kisses making you realize that mornings could not only be mellow and sleepy but also possess this taste, not just affections, but the feeling of being cherished nearby.

The kisses traveled from your neck to your torso, becoming a puddle at the level of your lower belly. As soon as you started to withdraw, feeling vulnerable in that exposure, his nose became delicate on your goose bumps, causing you to empty your thoughts for him. He already understood your body well, occupying your mind day and night; you wished to stay, longing to be there far longer than fate allowed.

He sighed, numb and the air missing from his lungs, taking in the dimension of how you were lying in front of him. Your skin was marked by the thin elastic of the baby pink panties, so fragile, with ruffled edges and cute bows. His large hand moved your thigh to the side, his lips parting in a sigh, and the adorable wrinkle becoming persistent as he felt the texture of your knee socks on his fingers. Penetrating the fabric, he squeezed harder. You grunted, closing your eyes and feeling relieved when he had his tongue in the spot, easing the damage while intensifying it by biting you briefly.

"Want me to take it off, Turner?" Your eyes were nervous, just like your breathing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, from how your hands were restless to how adorable you looked in his blazer. He found you beautiful, quite sure of it, and that made him blush just by the thought.

Still, he laughed softly at how you hesitated to say "Mr." before his last name and continued in a low, whispered voice, almost inaudible, feeling inadequate about saying his first name alone. As if he heard, you would be caught in a lie.

You wouldn't take a piece; you were aware that it was an act meant for him. However, in the midst of the adrenaline, you became vocal, and he understood that. “Alex?” He felt the frustration in your voice as you called his name out loud.

Your icy hand touched his wrist, wrapping around him and before he could look at you disapprovingly, your thumb made slow circles on his skin. You just wanted his attention, not to have control. He pressed his fingertips to your center, rubbing slowly as you spread yourself wider for him, following his movements with your fingers intertwined at the hem of his folded T-shirt.

“Thank you, Mr. Turner.” You made yourself more comfortable, eyes closing as your head sank into the pillow. He was firm and patient. Every now and then he would pull the edges, making the thin fabric fall back into place, which made everything go even slower and it felt so good. Just like the morning, you still felt limp and tired, it was difficult to keep your eyes open, even if you wanted to look at him.

“You can relax, lil’ one. I'm right ‘ere, there's no reason to let mean thoughts take over.” You liked how he read you. You calmed your tense knees, that you hadn't even noticed, and looked at him lazily as the tip of his finger pressed against you, touching the bare flesh and then collecting your excess. It was a bit embarrassing that you had already been that wet, but he was no different from the norm.

You felt guilty for not knowing how to ease him, you understood that he was going slow, and you were grateful that he was like that with you. Still, you thought it was unfair to let go of him when he always did you so good, without exception. After a while, and your assessments of how he lay on the bed, heavy in his underwear, the fabric going shorter due to lack of space. You didn't take long to realize that when he took time in the bathroom, he also whispered your name.

You kept it a secret of yours, you liked the affirmation that you were desired by him, but you wanted to be good for him.

“What is this, princess?" he asked, smiling widely as he saw your radiant face. He pushed his finger in, swallowing hard at how easy it was to slide it inside you. You closed your eyes again, a sweet sigh, soon feeling used to soaking him.

Unable to resist, he lowered his face and kissed your lower belly, going down until he placed a brief kiss on the socket of his finger and he could taste you on his tongue. He pushed the hem of his dark blazer away, having more of your body to cover in new bites and smiled between your skin when he felt your fingers penetrate his hair. He loved it. He pondered what his reaction would be if someone told him months ago that this was happening to him, with all these details.

And suddenly, guilt made him pull back, not in a way that he would scare you, but with a recurring thought he had out of pure fear of being bad for you.

“I like how I feel with you,” You thought about describing more, but you didn't know how. Feeling was definitely stronger than words. His features were relaxed, in a way he wasn't in classes, or with anyone other than you, and that was what you wanted to explain. The intensity of everything was easier, more colorful and comfortable. God, you would miss him so much.

He pulled the cute bows to the side further, urgently and delicately, and little by little he pushed another finger into you. He kissed his other palm, pressing it to your belly, making you calm down a bit. “The feeling is mutual, little one. I don't wanna ‘urt you.” You moved to the side, getting a better look at him. His face well slept and his jaw firm from working on you. Your hand returned to his wrist, finding comfort in the warmth of him. He threw his hair back, letting lint fall over his forehead, the chain around his neck followed his movements in a mesmerizing way and his chest was in a pleasant breath. When he stopped to kiss you, his scent along with the chamomile in his mouth were dizzying, but so memorable and unique of him. You wanted so badly to be his and his alone.

You played with the crumpled and soft buttons on the bem, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or continue, it didn't hurt but in fact his fingers were thicker than yours. With your free hand, you grabbed his shoulder through his shirt, taking a deep breath and then focusing on trying not to worry. “You can hurt me as much as you want. Take your anguish out on me, huh.” His chest rubbed against yours, your nails digging into him even as he slowed down on you.

“No, Mr. Turner, no,” your saliva ran down your throat heavily. Your worried eyes look into his, embarrassed, but not knowing why he stopped.

He was warm over you, his hot breath on your face being covered in light, precise kisses as he took in your soul through his blazer. You were his, with the same urgency with which your body snuggled against his. “I need you.” Your frustration made him laugh, he knew you could feel how much he wanted this by the way you held him, feeling him on your hips and sly tugs on his shirt. He had better ideas for you.

“I like how you keep calling me that, making it sound respectful and obedient, prolonging the word in your tongue” It was even better when it was carefree. Involuntarily, without you having to worry about whether he cared about it. He enjoyed the warmth in his stomach as you worked on the "r" in his last name.

“Do you?” He didn't need an answer, but he still nodded. The bangs prickling your skin as he rubbed his baby beard in more kisses to you. You wanted to know what to do, and it became more intoxicating for you as he took off his underwear. "I don't want to disappoint you, please–” He waited for your voice to die down, taking more caresses out of your vulnerability.

“You could never disappoint me, lil’ one. I don't want to ‘ear you saying that again, okay?” The syllables sounded strong, punctuated and cultured in each word. Was it normal to feel that way just with someone's voice?

You were comfortable, you felt light with him and you weren't afraid of crossing that line. The issue was that he was older, which made you think about how any mistake of yours could make him dislike you, even if such a statement had no confirmation.

He went back between your legs, ran his finger through the elastic of your knee socks and pulled briefly, making you gasp. He laughed, "I need you to answer me when I ask something. It's not like you to be a bad kitten, princess." And the coherence between provocation and sweetness left you softened by him, damp in your pink fabric.

You took your time looking at him, bringing color to his cheeks. “Okay, I'm sorry, Mr. Turner.” He had lifted his T-shirt a little, exposing his sexy lines and belly button. His pale skin was soft in contrast to his trimmed hair and how swollen he was that it looked painful, even though he hid it well; or you were always too nervous to notice. It was good to know that you were responsible for causing that damage to him. He waited for you to finish looking with a slightly silly smile. “Good girl.” You felt satisfied, without even being touched.

“I like your body.” You whispered, him blushing even more. He chuckled, nodding and continuing, "I love yours." You smiled, forcing your face into his pillow.

He ran his fingers down your belly, then his hands inside the edges of your panties and allowed himself to feel how wet you were. As expected, you spread out comfortably for him. Soon, he pulled you closer to him. Little by little, he let you feel his length against the fabric, making you whimper slightly. “I'll rub you, nothing more. Provide relief for both of us, little one, as you suggested, is that good?” He was suggestive, comforting you. Him talking to you through that made you more relaxed and surrendered to him.

“I like that, yeah,” You nodded, your fingers between the sheets, occasionally hovering over the blazer.

He pushed your damp panties aside, sliding himself into you until he was settled in your crease. He squeezed your waist, molding you to him as your knees came up a bit giving him more access. He rested his hands on your panties, comforting the shape of him spilling over the fabric, and pressed himself into your juices tight.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, tiny one.” He was out of breath, trying to eliminate the thought of how he wanted to fuck you. He was sure he would slip inside you so easily and then you would masterfully swallow him until he was all inside you. However, he would still make you wait, even if he knew you were ready, he wanted to have every moment and memory of you possible.

“Am I being good, Mr. Turner?” You still sounded uncertain, fearing his reaction, even if you didn't know why. You believed it was just inexperience. He looked away from his own hands and wet noises, still working on crawling over you, soon having the wrinkle between his eyebrows softened due to your tears. You whimpered and squirmed a little, causing friction between your socks and his T-shirt. "It's too much, prince.” He smiled at how adorable you were, slowing down and leaning into you better.

“You can take it out on me, princess.” He said, watching as you tugged at the sheets in agony. Soon, your nails and fingers were digging into his wrists and arms. Noticing your good response, he followed with the same slow pace, failing to hold the moan in his throat as you melted beneath him. Your breathing eased, as did your hips and he traced his fingers in circles on the spot to comfort you. "Shhh, I've got you, little one. It's okay.”

You nodded, copying him, actually feeling numb. You were incapable of verbal, but you insisted on having your delicate hand wrapped around his as he finished what he had started. You were so sweet to him. Watching him was good. His mouth was half open, every now and then he couldn't hold it back and grunted in such a good way, and his hair was everywhere. He opened his eyes briefly, making you sigh along with him as you felt your panties fill with his hot liquid, everything about it made you want that more often. You felt sticky, but it felt so good. He played with the bows, gave your thighs a generous squeeze with a satisfied smile on his face, cheeks red, and then pulled you to him before laying down next to you. You wanted to endorse him, you wanted him to exhaust you.

Curious, yet sharing his tiredness, you pushed his fingertips to the edges of your panties. He sighed deeply, following with his eyes, as he collected some of the fluid between his fingers and watched you bring it to your lips. You licked it briefly, memorizing the taste until you decided to suck his fingers into your mouth. He allowed you to do so, feeling as breathless as before. Gently, he pulled it out, tracing the line of your lips as you kissed his skin in a light smile. He couldn't help but imagine you on your knees for him, promoting him in your purest state of mind.

You kissed his shoulders, fitting every inch of your body to his. He held you close to his chest, and as your forehead rested on his, he brushed his lips against your nose and mouth. Your legs entwined with his, allowing him to playfully stroke your socks, and he chuckled at the comfort. He could sense his scent on you, just as he knew yours lingered on him, and it was so relaxing and natural. "I like your hair like this," you whispered, and something didn't seem right in your voice. "I like seeing yours messy too." He maintained the same tone.

The brief silence was comfortable, but soon he felt his own eyes welling up. "I'll miss you." He simply couldn't help but verbalize that, not because he feared the worst, but because he knew he couldn't say he loved you even though he wanted you to know he cared. So that was his immediate solution.

That was enough for your tears to flow and a knot to form in your throat. "Don't cry, my love." He kissed away your tears, drying your face as best as he could. You didn't want to say anything; he didn't blame you and, in a way, he understood. "Do you really think I'll make it?" You looked at him cautiously, even with red eyes. He smiled sweetly and wearily, "I'm sure you will; you're wonderful." You held his cheeks, showering him with more brief, smacking kisses. "You won't regret me, will you?" He held you tighter against his body. "Never; I'm afraid the opposite will happen." You denied, making him smile more. It was a difficult situation to explain, something that the purest experience would not be able to clarify; neither of you knew the answer to that. Not wanting to dwell on it, he asked, "How do you imagine living in California?”

And in a few minutes, you nestled into his chest, his fingers in your hair, and the answer came in a sigh that made him realize how important the place, the title, and your future job were to you, more than the uncertainty of the future. "I'd like to have a bookshelf, like yours; I don't have one now. I want to have breakfast, drink orange-colored juices and have some tea, watch the sunrise and walk on the beach after a long day. I wanna read the books you told me I'd like. – I know the weather doesn't really match your mood, but I think I would be better there. I don't know; I just feel like it seems right." More tears wetted his T-shirt, and he wanted to cry, but settled for comforting you even more.

"It's okay, you'll have it all." That made you think about how much better it would be with him by your side, with long conversations before bed or a few calls just to be silent together and liven up your day, but not everything was achievable. You just closed your eyes tightly and dove into him. "Do you want to take a shower with me? I need you to be clean before bed, I don't think it's a good idea not to clean yourself." You laughed at how worried he sounded and sat down, smiling at his cute face. You liked the idea of taking a shower with him.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @andulina567 @tonyxstanks @picturezonthewall @harrysbestiee @ultragirrl @billyseye @ouroboros311

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tagged only for teacher's pet : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini @wh0s-3v3

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wanna be part of taglist? !forms¡

[antimatterz]

solace

dan heng x gn!reader

summary: life has gotten you down, but he won't let you give up. he's there to hold you together, and he won't let go.

cw: suicidal thoughts – do not read if this triggers you. hurt/comfort, dan heng being the sweetest.

enyo's note: don't mind me this is very self-indulgent. i'm not in a good place at the moment and i would love a dan heng to help me through it. not proofread & might take it down, actually.

content under the cut | masterlist

the world had gotten you down.

ultimately, fighting your mental battles got the best of you. for aeons, you had been fighting the demons in your mind. day after day, you struggled to fend off the darkness, but the shadows that shrouded your inner flame had won. you had been tearing at the seams for months, but you finally broke.

your thoughts were dark, consuming you whole. you were suffering, all on your own. why did life bring nothing but turmoil? you wanted peace, you wanted to enjoy being alive, you wanted to serve a genuine smile to the people around you. but your demeanor was fake, nothing but an act you carefully put on to fool the others. again, you carried your burdens on your own, and you succumbed underneath the heavy weight of it all.

you no longer experienced happiness, all you felt was gloom and misery. you were hopeless, frustrated, frantically holding on to the final strands of light that were rapidly vanishing. honestly, why were you even still alive?

maybe giving up wasn't that bad.

those thoughts pestered you as you spent your time alone in your room. you had reached your breaking point and distanced yourself from your friends. you didn't have the energy left to put on an act, you couldn't muster a fake smile anymore. it was game over for you. life had won.

you had no more tears left to cry as you lay in bed, curled up into a little ball. you've spent the last few hours like that, staring ahead as you let the darkness consume you.

you hadn't eaten today, and your stomach felt empty. but what did it matter? you felt empty in general, you had gotten used to it and it didn't bother you anymore. you deftly ignored it, not even motivated to take care of yourself properly. what did it matter, anyway? you didn't care.

there was a knock on your door, one that you didn't respond to. you didn't want to see anyone, let alone have to explain your miserable state. you chose to suffer alone, after all, not wanting to worry the others. your burdens were yours to carry, you didn't want to bother them with it.

again, the idea of giving up crossed your mind – like it did every other minute. all your struggles, all your burdens, everything would be gone and you would finally have peace. you didn't have any hope left for things getting better. what was the point of trying? maybe life wasn't meant for you. clearly, your mind wasn't wired for this world.

whoever it was at your door knocked again, but you remained silent. you were so far gone, wallowing in the darkness. however, the person didn't give up, and the door carefully slid open.

"y/n?" a familiar voice called out.

you said nothing, not turning around even when dan heng shut the door behind him. footsteps inched closer, increasing speed as he neared your bed.

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down.

"march was worried about you because she hasn't seen you in two days," the male explained, hesitating for a moment. "and honestly, so am i. this is very unlike you. are you okay?"

hearing his voice was nice, you had to admit that. it was true; you hadn't spoken to anyone for the past two days, which was sure to raise concern. although you still weren't sure if you were in the mood to face anyone, you still sat up, aversively facing dan heng. you considered lying, simply playing it off as the flu that got you down. but one look into his solemn grey eyes swayed you from your original plan.

"no," you replied, voice breaking. "no, i'm not okay."

dan heng's usually stoic face fell, genuine concern falling upon his features. you must've looked terrible – tired, dead on the inside, dull eyes. your will to live was close to zero at the moment, and it was probably very obvious from the way you looked at him.

he searched your eyes, as if they would tell him what was wrong. for some reason, the way he gazed at you had you feeling vulnerable, tears welling up in your eyes. you felt your will to remain strong in front of others faltering, and it wasn't long before the first sob racked your body.

"hey," dan heng said, surprise lingering his tone. he was quick to reach out and grab your hand, completely dropping his usually cold and distant demeanor. "y/n, what's wrong?"

"everything," you admitted shakily. "dan heng, why is life so hard? why is it trying so hard to bring me down? it's not fair, i try so hard but it just doesn't get better." you were silent for a moment, wondering if you were really going to admit your darkest thoughts to him. you pursed your lips. what did it matter? what was stopping you? maybe it was nice to confide in someone. especially dan heng, the one you considered your closest friend. you continued, "the idea of giving up becomes stronger with every moment that passes. i don't want to live like this anymore."

the raven-haired male seemed genuinely shocked by your confession. his eyes widened, but he quickly recollected himself and shot forward like a bullet fired from a gun. you stumbled back in surprise, but he caught you before you could fall. ever so gently, he cupped your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears that spilled.

"y/n, i had no idea you were going through this," dan heng mumbled. "why did you pretend to be happy all the time? why didn't you tell anyone about your suffering?"

"i don't know," you said, lightly shaking your head. "i guess i just didn't want to worry anyone. what goes on in my head isn't pretty. i just kept telling myself it would be better to disappear and–"

"stop right there," the male hushed you, removing one hand from your cheek to press his index finger against your lips. "you're very important to me, angel. i don't want you to suffer alone and even more, i do not want you to go."

there was nothing left of his usual placid demeanor, and the look in his eyes was soft as he gazed at you. it almost made you tear up again, this time for entirely different reasons. this side of dan heng was completely new to you, and it lit a small spark within you. you leaned into his touch carefully, closing your eyes in a small moment of peace. the storm in your mind ceased for a blissful second, and you relished in the feeling dan heng brought you.

"listen, y/n. please don't do this to yourself. please, just reach out to me if your thoughts threaten to get the best of you. you don't have to carry everything on your own. you have march, you have me. and there's welt and himeko. we're a family, we are here for you and wouldn't be complete without you."

dan heng looked at you intently, and you nodded. he was right, you had lost sight of your reasons to live, but he reminded you. you had your astral express family, you had dan heng – who just came to save you from your darkest moment.

letting out a small sigh, he wrapped your arms around you and gently pulled you down with him. you lay like that, safely in his embrace. you felt your inner flame light up a little, and faint strands of hope intertwined with the darkness that occupied your mind, shining a new light. dan heng probably had no idea what he just did. suddenly the idea of ending it all lost its appeal, as if dan heng's embrace mended the pieces of you that had been shattered. he held you together, he saved you from falling apart. you gathered your thoughts, gathered your will, bringing new life to what seemed hopeless at first.

"thank you," you muttered, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

in response, dan heng gently kissed the top of your head. the loving gesture brought a faint smile to your face – tiny, barely there, but genuine. he was right, you weren't alone.

dan heng was your solace.

[vidavalor]

Does Aziraphale drink coffee, do you think? I keep seeing people who think he doesn't because they think he doesn't know what espresso does but he also has a regular order? Do you think there's a word thing happening here? Thanks!

Hi there. 💕 Thanks for the ask. I hope you're having a great day. There are eccles cakes for snacks tonight as it felt appropriate for this one. 😊 We've actually seen Aziraphale drink coffee back in 1.01 in the scene at The Ritz in 2008 so I'm also frequently confused by people saying that they think he doesn't know what coffee is. Seems a bit of a stretch... Yeah, I think there's a wordplay thing happening in the Six Shots of Espresso scene that might be at the root of the coffee confusion.

Let's look at what coffee is in Good Omens and Aziraphale's joke around the word calm.

When we use calm today, we mean a sense of peace and relaxation. The word comes from the Greek kauma, though, which originally meant heat, as well as the Latin calere, which meant to feel hot.

To that end? Something that is calm in Ineffable Husbands Speak is something that brings about a sense of peace and relaxation through heat, which is a way to describe not just a hot cup of coffee but, also, well... sex. But why is Aziraphale describing sex when they're ordering coffee?

Let's back up and look at Crowley's very laced-with-their-vocabulary coffee order:

Take a big cup. Put six shots of espresso into it. Nothing else.

Big: Original definitions: generous; powerful, strong; a great man.

Cup: For a such little word, it has an unexpectedly fun history. A cup is a drinking vessel, yes. It also meant a ship's hull at one point. These two and their fish-and-the-sea stuff... Even more amusing, it also once meant a beehive. Later on in S2, we get Crowley explaining the angels = bees analogy to Muriel that holds up within Crowley & Aziraphale's speak in different scenes as well. Additionally, there's cup as a verb-- to cup, as in to take something in hand with the hand in a curved, cup-like shape. Crowley cupping a cup as visual innuendo in the pub scene in S2:

The word cup also contains the word up.

Up = Heaven/angels/Aziraphale.

Contrast with Aziraphale then replying with "does it calm you down?"

Big Cup = Aziraphale.

So, what does Crowley feeling like doing with the big cup he'd like to take this morning? Putting six shots of espresso into it.

Six shots: Six, from the Latin verb sex. Aziraphale as The Great Beast joke from the Odegra scene. 666 aka The Mark of the Beast in S1 was the literal numbers and part of Adam's phone number. In S2, it's the Latin verb root of the word six-- so, it's sex, sex, sex... 😂

Shots -- form of measurement for two euphemistic beverages in Good Omens: alcohol and coffee.

Shots contains hot (self-explanatory) and hots, the slang for peppers, which Aziraphale also uses to describe Crowley in a couple of different ways in Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings. It was also part of Aziraphale's "sitting on it" sword joke to Crowley in S1 where the handle looked like a pepper grinder.

[On the story's overall wordplay level, as opposed to within Crowley and Aziraphale's speak, there is also that Crowley's paralleling character in The Them is Pepper.]

Espresso: Coffee. Literally translated: fast coffee. Also contains press, a word that overlaps food and seamstress euphemistic speak-- so, a little nod towards Mrs. Sandwich. You press clothes with an iron. You make a hot sandwich with a panini press. Something that is urgent-- like a very in-the-mood demon who knows something is irritatingly wrong and would rather they be meeting for breakfast as a date without any problems and so is ordering sexually euphemistic coffee-- is a pressing matter. 😉

Nothing else: You can leave it at nothing else alone and it works but it's also: know thin elks. To know in the old, religious sense is to know someone "biblically"-- to be sleeping with someone-- which is how Crowley uses it still in the context of their speak: "Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing."/"He's just an angel I know."/"We've known each other a long time."/what he says to Aziraphale when he thinks they're going to die in S1: "It was nice knowing you."

I've noticed a few instances of the word thin and/or words containing it referring to Crowley, with this being one of them. Elks are a kind of deer native to North America, a little joke on the fact that they're in the American-themed Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. Their whole horses thing (and every other animal thing basically lol) is also a deer thing. Deer is homophonic for dear. "My dear" and "My dear fellow" are also "my deer" and "my deer fellow."

Nothing else = Know Thin Elks = Crowley self-proclaiming himself the thin, American deer who'd like to break fast, err, breakfast lol with some biblical knowledge with the angelic big cup.

Shout out to Nina Sosanya (the actress, not the character) for being able to not just laugh through this. The hand gestures are, unintentionally on the part of the character, Crowley's euphemistic order as well: Six aka sex. Being one. Bigggggg cup. 🤭

So, basically, the coffee confusion comes from Aziraphale's response to Crowley's coffee order-- so, let's look at that. Crowley's coffee order with Nina means to her that he wants a literal big cup filled with six shots of literal espresso but, to Aziraphale, it's putting in a request for sex using the coffee euphemistically. Crowley said he wanted to take the big cup and fill it with some shots of espresso mmhmm, to which Aziraphale then replied:

That sounds fun. Does it calm you down?

The big cup is game to know the thin elk 😉 and he has some words for him in return, even if he's joking by pretending that they're really only talking about Crowley's literal coffee order.

Sound is what you hear so Aziraphale's acknowledging that he hears the wordplay and knows that Crowley is pressed for more than espresso at the moment. He heard the Ineffable Husbands Speak happening. A sound is also a body of water and was a word that originally also meant the act of swimming, so we've got some extra of their favorite sexual metaphor-- fish-and-the-sea/bodies-of-water-- in here as well.

We already looked at how calm means relaxing through heat above. Aziraphale asks if it-- both the coffee order and the "coffee order"-- calms Crowley down, responding to Crowley's use of up within cup as descriptive for Aziraphale. Neither of them are actually working for Heaven or Hell anymore, nor do they really see one another as like the other angels and demons, but it's a shorthand.

Up and down are also fun words because of the fact that they often are used in slang kind of interchangeably-- to get on up and to get down can mean the same thing, for example. The tagline for S2 is a joke around that as well: something's going down in The Up. Something going down is something happening but the something that is happening is also that angels are going down. (Might also be something to keep in mind then about the last shot of the season being Aziraphale seeming to go Up and how that really can still very much mean that he's ultimately what's going down.)

You could also, if you're of mind to, take the 'calm you down' to be something Aziraphale has in mind as well, centered around the meaning of going down that doesn't involve an elevator or stairs, if you see where I'm going with this? Given how the scene ends, I think Crowley probably heard that bit as we'll look at in a second...

Aziraphale, knowing Nina does not know the root of the word calm, nor that he and Crowley are speaking their cant vocabulary in front of her and what calm means in that vocabulary, then asks Nina a question:

This is meant to amuse Crowley because calm, to Nina, means something that's relaxing and can help mellow someone out, while calm, in Ineffable Husbands Speak, incorporates the heat-related roots of the word to make it mean something that induces a state of peace and relaxation through heat-- so, something that's sexy.

As a result, Aziraphale has set it up so that almost anything that Nina could say in response to this would be amusing to him and Crowley because, while they know she doesn't understand what they're saying beneath the surface, what she says in response here is, in that speak, as if whatever she's saying is the sexiest thing she sells.

I'm of the opinion that Aziraphale, in mentioning things that are calm, is trying to get Nina to offer him a form of tea that Aziraphale can then turn into an equally sexually euphemistic order of his own. (There are a couple of uses of tea that way in other scenes and Aziraphale had also ordered tea in the date they didn't end up having in the sushi scene in 1.01.) But Nina surprises Aziraphale with her response.

Aziraphale didn't take into account that Nina won't offer him tea because it seems too logical a choice. He's an older Englishman to Nina, so, wouldn't he just ask for tea, if that's what he wants? To her, he must be looking for something calming that is not tea. She has a quick think about it and, both unintentionally and amusingly, comes up with the one thing that she sells that not only calms people down in the way that Nina understands calm to mean-- chills them out and makes them happy-- but is also calm by Crowley and Aziraphale's standards-- chills them out and makes them happy but with an element of sex.

What Nina doesn't realize is the history of eccles cakes, which, ironically, really do meet the definition of calming people down in a sexy way by Crowley and Aziraphale speak standards. They were once banned in England for being thought of as food of the devil because they were so sinfully delicious. This scene will also probably be even funnier after S3 because, historically, eccles cakes tie to 1650-- one of the years mentioned by Aziraphale in the Apology Dance scene. If we get that flashback in S3, eccles cakes could wind up having additional layers of meaning to Crowley and Aziraphale that would add even more to this scene in S2.

Either way, Crowley and Aziraphale lived through that history, so it's already funny then that Aziraphale, in response, looks at Crowley and just says:

So, yeah, Aziraphale does know what espresso is and what caffeine is and was joking with Crowley about how he might have been ordering some calm with Aziraphale but what he ordered from Nina was anxiety in a mug.

We actually saw Aziraphale and Crowley drink coffee at The Ritz in 2008 in S1. Aziraphale's mug indicates that he was drinking a cappuccino or a latte, which are both espresso-based drinks. Crowley was not having six shots of espresso with nothing else at that moment. He was having maybe a third of that, tops, in a dessert coffee that was light enough to have milk or cream of it and may or may not have also contained alcohol. Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup doesn't always take his coffee that way, ah... both literally and euphemistically. 😉

They're visible on the table here:

Aziraphale's large oat milk latte with a dash of almond syrup is his usual order at Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death... which is a creepy thing for Whoever Derek Jacobi is Playing to know, I agree. It's another indication that he drinks coffee regularly. Aziraphale knows Nina not just from The Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association but because her shop is right across the street from where he lives and works so it's where he goes to get the coffee that he drinks to a point of having an usual order.

Nina doesn't know Crowley at the start of the Six Shots of Espresso scene and is surprised to see an additional twist to the bookseller's suddenly surprisingly interesting and wild sex life being that, in addition to The Naked Man Friend, the bookseller apparently has a fella-- this charming ginger with the bizarrely intense morning coffee order. Nina doesn't know Crowley because Crowley and Aziraphale don't do mornings in an effort to not get caught. Crowley's gone before dawn. Mrs. Sandwich knows about them because she works at night outside the bookshop's side door; Nina does not because she works beginning in the early mornings across the street.

The know thin elks bit-- when elks are wapitis, which means "light-colored deer"-- is then even funnier when Nina unintentionally uses an idiom that goes along with Crowley and Aziraphale's wordplay to describe Aziraphale in this scene: You're a dark horse, Mr. Fell.

Aziraphale as dark (also: d'ark and contains ark, so: of The Ark/The Flood) and Crowley as light (of stars and fire; light in weight; light as truth; lightens burdens and brightens up Aziraphale's world with humor, and so on) are also in the wordplay in 1941, where they are rather adorably inverting their own visuals when flirting with one another:

Aziraphale doesn't just mean he'd miss coffee-the-beverage when he tells Whichever Villain Derek Jacobi Is Playing that he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. Aziraphale is obviously not saying it directly but is thinking about the much more pressing problem:

Where would he get his coffee, ya dig?

Coffee is coffee itself. Coffee is freedom in general, especially the kind that comes from the American-themed Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. But coffee is also sex-- free, liberated sex, in particular. The choice to live as Aziraphale pleases, for him, is centered around his life on Earth with Crowley and going to Heaven means he would lose that. Coffee is not much different from the use of alcohol in the same way in S1 as Crowley was talking about how Armageddon happening and Aziraphale stuck in Heaven and separated from Crowley and the two of them not having their life on Earth would mean they wouldn't be able to be together:

"Not too big on wine in Heaven, are they? Or single-malt scotch. Or frou frou cocktails with little umbrellas..."

All that then making it funnier that, upon hearing that there's a "not technically" Naked Man Friend in the bookshop, Crowley's literal drink order arrives at the table. Even though Crowley knows that there's some kind of situation happening here that isn't anything worth being jealous over, he's definitely not missing an opportunity to tease Aziraphale a bit over whatever's going on a little.

Turns out that Aziraphale isn't the only one who can make a show of eating and drinking. There's an awful lot of tongue in that big cup...

Connected scene: "A sherry for me, please."

Sherry: A light wine, usually drunk before a meal to stimulate the appetite. Homophone: the French cheri, meaning dear. Aziraphale ordered a Crowley-esque wine to drink it in front of him.

Finally, as if we needed more proof of coffee as figurative language, there's always...

You're both equal parts skinny lattes and large oat milk ones with dashes of almond syrup, ladies, but, yeah, Maggie's your Crowley, Nina. They're both skinny lattes and a whole world of other beverages as well.

You said it, Mags. 😂

[slocumjoe]

A ramble about Preston Garvey and a self-indulgent revision of the entire Minuteman questline

TDLR: The Minutemen faction sacrifices writing and Preston’s character as a means of shoveling errands and busywork at the player.

Preston’s issues as a character are entirely Doylist, meaning the fault of outside forces. His writing, his concept, his themes, those are solid. This is not a racehorse that broke its leg and was still sent down the track, like some characters. This is a horse that was hale and hearty, but they made it run in circles around cars in the parking lot instead of putting it in the race. 

This essay is not going to be my most coherent one. Preston’s issues are so apparent, so in your face, it kinda feels like a waste of time explaining it. Just look at him and anyone with two braincells to rub together can see. But a lot of things in Fallout 4 sticks with me, even when I’m not in a Fallout 4 mood. Preston is one of those things. So neglected, so misused in the game, I couldn’t stop thinking about the bastard. 

Before we get into what Preston is, in-game...what was he meant to be?

And you know what? 

He’s close to Danse, post Blind Betrayal.

Preston Garvey started his military career as a fresh-faced, bright-eyed young man, who wanted to be another gun protecting the Commonwealth against whatever would harm it. He always had his faction’s best interests and ideals in mind. The first to wave the flag, the first to say the motto, the first to pick up a gun for it. He didn’t want heroism, or glory. He wanted to make the world a better place. It sounds cookie cutter, cliche, so sugary-saccharine. But this is the wasteland. This is in a world where everyone else seems content to succumb to futilism, to pretend there is no Better for the world. 

Preston Garvey is, inherently, part of a rebel army. The Minutemen were a militia, a guerilla army of farmers and their children, banding together against the oppressive totality of raiders, mercenaries, anyone who would rather gnaw on bones than build to ensure everyone was taken care of. The Minutemen are the fuck you, we want to recover and heal faction, to the raiders’ fuck you, I have a right to wallow in the ruins.

The legend herself, the icon, the Queen, Ursula K. LeGuin once said;  “The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.” The MInutemen might look like your average, boring heroes (we’ll get into why), but it is inherently badass to look at the literal End of the World and decide, no, actually, we don’t want to lie down and die.

Preston Garvey is not a boy scout, the Minutemen are not mall cops. They are furious, determined, and most dangerously, optimistic. 

A young Preston Garvey joined under a blue banner, served under it for years...and watched as people who saw money, power, glory, took that banner and tied it into a noose.

Joe Becker died, and having not chosen someone to take over as General, all of the colonels squabbled for the position, wanting the fame, the cushy office. These people weren’t Minutemen, not at heart. The faction had grown so large, there was bound to be people looking only at the resources, what was in it for them. Preston, still a young man, but quickly losing his naivety and faith in his fellow Minutemen, watched as these colonels dropped their altruistic acts and demanded they get theirs.

And then Quincy happened.

The Minutemen were in disarray, following the Mirelurk invasion of the Castle, lacking a home base and their radio communications. But Colonel Ezra Hollis, potentially the last Colonel who gave a shit, heard that Quincy was under siege by Gunner forces, and he led his small, out-gunned squad to do whatever the fuck they could, until another Colonel came to provide the needed fire support. Hollis’ Minutemen succeeded in driving the Gunners back, and holding them off, but their help from Colonel Marbury never came. Preston watched as his Colonel refused to give up and let Quincy fall...and he watched as Clint, a ten-year veteran, betrayed everyone, chose money and a winning team over what was right. 

Quincy fell. Preston Garvey watched as the refugees fell in a line, running for safety. Watched his comrades, who he had been fighting against impossible odds with for days, dropped with them. 

Preston Garvey died, and I can tell you where. At one house, to the right, down the street from the museum, where the last other Minuteman lay dead in a yard. Where he became the Last Minuteman. Even if there were others who would call themselves such...they weren’t Minuteman, not really. The real Minutemen tried to save Quincy. Everyone else, who gave up, never believed at all.

Preston was still fucking furious at the hedonistic cruelty people indulged in and called inevitable. But he was alone, a failure, and had lost any reason to believe that there was a possibility of continuing. A point, a reason, yes. But the optimism...without that, there was no Minuteman army. 

Preston is Danse Post BB, because he’s freshly disillusioned from his faction, horrified at the truth and betrayal. He has lost his identity, his values, unsure of where to go, if there’s anywhere to go. And then...salvation walks down the street of Concord, and walks him and his group back up the road to Sanctuary. Sanctuary.

And then comes in the fucking dialogue system (FDS) and the fucking radiant system (FRS), armed with folding chairs, to beat Preston Garvey’s rich character into a bloody, twitching pulp. We cannot talk about Preston without talking about how his faction questline plays. We simply have to, because it’s like a shotgun wedding from hell.

Let’s start with the very first quest in the Minutemen. Preston, while running for his fucking life from gunners, then ferals, then raiders, has somehow heard through the grapevine/radio he doesn’t have that Tenpines has a Corvega raiders issue. He asks you to do it because he’s busy guarding Sanctuary. Okay.

You go to Tenpines, Corvega, and back, and whoop, you are now Minuteman general. 

You START THE MINUTEMEN as THE LEADER. Even fucking MAXSON waits for you to at least bump Danse off before making you a Paladin, but nope! Starting at the top, ending at the top. This kills progression in all senses. There is no sense of gaining ground, the Minutemen start with a General. Skyrim gets mocked for making you the leader of all factions, but good god, at least you had to earn it by sticking with them. 

So, bad start. 

Then you do some settlement stuff...which is handed to you in the worst fucking way. The FRS. 

Where is Preston getting this information? How are people sending it out? Ignoring the logistics...it’s just boring. You talk to Preston sometimes, and he always says Go Here, Do This, Come back. Do this enough times, Preston wants to retake the Castle. At this point, you don’t have any men, it’s just you and Preston- wait, who the fuck are these people?! We’ve had soldiers this whole time?! Who hired them?! You take the Castle and it’s admittedly cool, if not a pain to restore for all your- okay, wait, I can only bring settlers? Where are all the men I supposedly have, there’s three soldiers here! Three soldiers, this is just a Clearing the Way radiant quest, but the moving in folks helped me kill the mirelurks! 

Ugh, fine. You keep traveling, Preston gives you more- Preston?! I killed a Mirelurk Queen specifically for the radio tower, so I could get quests from the radio! Why is Preston still dispensing quests? It discourages you from talking to him, because you’ll get busywork cluttering your quest log. You can’t talk to Preston Garvey. You can’t fucking talk to him without doing him a favor first. 

Y’know what makes this even more abominable? You are said to have soldiers, who could be doing this instead! Why am I going after kidnapped settlers when we have soldiers?! The General still has a kid to find and the Institute to explode! SPEAKING OF...

The Commonwealth Provisional Government was started by the Minutemen, and ended by the Institute. This is never brought up again. And it’s not even Preston who talks about it, it’s Nick. The Minutemen have very real reason to want the Institute gone, and a good excuse to get the player to want to destroy the Institute beyond “grrr synths/they took my baby.”

Anyway, you go get artillery from Ronnie Shaw at some point, build it in your settlements, and...make your farmers man them. Not soldiers. I know you can deck out your settlers with armor and weapons, but the fact that you have maybe 5 constant, non-random encounter soldiers, all at the Castle, is...it makes it feel hollow. Where is my army, Preston? Who am I leading?

So, you do the Main Quest, blow up the Institute. Blah blah. Blow up the Brotherhood, too. Blaaaaah.

Either way, let’s get into fixes. And by fixes, I mean, complete rehaul.

First thing’s first. The entire questline is bad. It’s radiant quests and then boom boom Institute. It starts and ends the exact same way, you being the general. Second thing, we need to go back to the old dialogue system; no more YES, NO, WHAT, SARCASTIC. Actual dialogue. Back to Fallout New Vegas’s system, that relied on all stats and perks. Actual conversations with branching paths.

Saving Preston at Concord is fine. Works. It’s the first radiant quest that sucks ass. Throw that system out entirely, and I do mean entirely. Don’t save it for anything, it needs to go. It cannot remain. No being sent to Tenpines because Preston heard from a little birdie.

Instead, you work with Preston and the survivors to fortify and set up Sanctuary.

First, you work with Preston to shore up Sanctuary’s defenses. As you work with him, he’s polite, but curt. Professional, but not warm, open. He expresses gratitude, but definitely not trust. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know what your motives or wants are. You can tell him about Shaun, but he’s still not sure about you. He can’t afford to be and will tell you that outright, but...he needs someone to go see if anyone survived Lexington or Concord. He knows his other Minutemen split up with other survivors, he doesn’t know if they made it out. You can offer to go find them, or stay and protect Sanctuary. If you go, the other survivors will set up Sanctuary on their own without your help.

If you stay and Preston leaves, you plant crops with Marcy, getting to know her and potentially, she cracks and shows some vulnerability. She doesn’t soften right away, she’s still traumatized, but you get to see why she’s the way she is now. She just lost her baby, her home, all of her friends and family. Was just failed by the people who swore they’d protect them all. Betrayed by them. 

Then, you work with Sturges to get a water pump/purifier running. Sturges will tell you about Quincy in some detail, explain how it went to shit. He talks about how the Minutemen were needed more than ever, but crapped the bed at the last minute. Sturges says he thinks there’s a place in the world for the group, but with the last living soldier clearly reeling from everything that’s happened, he thinks it’s safe to say the Commonwealth is on it’s own. 

Next, it’s the bed situation with Jun. He barely says a word, only quietly thanking you for your help. If you choose the right dialogue options, he’ll say you remind him of Colonel Hollis, very brave and kind, even when it was a bad idea to help. Hollis didn’t survive, but you did. Maybe it’s not all bad, maybe Hollis wasn’t wrong, just of bad luck.

After, no matter who goes to find the bodies of the other Minutemen and Quincy locals, some Corvega raiders attack Sanctuary when they come back. It’s only a small scouting party, looking for Mama Murphy. You kill them, and Preston is freaking out and about to pack up and keep everyone moving farther. It’s up to you to calm him down and offer to go kill them. If you’ve picked certain dialogue choices before and Sanctuary has a high defense score, Preston will join you on the trip to Corvega. It’s on this journey + throughout it you can tell him about the fate of his comrades, or he tells you. If he doesn’t accompany you, you two talk about it when you get back to Sanctuary after killing Jared. 

Either way, It’s here that Mama Murphy tells you about Diamond City, not in the museum.

You do the main quest now, and when you get to Diamond City, you overhear people talking about the Quincy massacre, and what a shame that the Minutemen are gone. Someone talks about how McDonough forced all the ghouls out, and they moved up to the Slog, but now the Slog is having mutant troubles. From there, you can go decide for yourself if you want to do the Minuteman questline. The first few quests were just to organically show you the settlement system, dialogue system (the old, good one), and dungeon crawling, the explore-loot-return loop. It’s here that the Minutemen branch off from the main quest.

If you choose to save the Slog, you have the option of saying you’re there on Minuteman business, even if you’re not a Minuteman. Choosing this is what gets you in the faction proper. 

You can keep finding settlements and offering help. Doing this, Preston eventually catches word through Diamond City Radio and demands to know what the fuck you’re doing. You have a lot of options to choose from, but only the altruistic, optimistic ones will earn Preston’s trust. Anything else, he might just try to kill you, if you, like, say you’re doing it for money. But if you’re doing this for good reasons, he’s on board. Surprised, unsure this will end well, but...hey, if you want to try, he won’t stop you. If Sanctuary has enough settlers, defense, and you’ve turned enough settlers into guards (which have a different character tag, when assigned to defense posts), Preston will offer to accompany you, and that’s how you get him as a companion.

So, you and Preston wander around, doing quests, and helping out settlements. Help enough settlements, they’ll realize hey, we’re all on good terms with this Minuteman, and this person who’s basically a Minuteman...let’s just get the Minutemen back, yeah? People band together, settlements you’ve provided for will get settlers on their own. Eventually, people at settlements approach you and offer to help, what needs doing? If you have a settlement quest/errand, you can assign them to it, and they’ll complete it for you. This snow-balls until you’re taking over the Castle, for all these guns-for-hope to gather around and manage trade routes and work. You get the radio tower. You get an army. You get artillery, automatically built at every settlement in a designated spawnpoint.

It’s here that, by popular vote, you’re offered the position as General...but you can turn it down. You can hand it to Ronnie, or Preston. Both of of them agree, no, the people and the new Minutemen want you, but they’ll take it if you pass enough dialogue checks. Ronnie will run the Minutemen like a hardass, fierce and cynical to deter a second collapse, but Preston runs it like a community. He believes that cynicism was what killed the first Minutemen, and that constant reminder of who and what they do this for will keep motives pure. No matter the general, the Minutemen are now a solid force in the Commonwealth, stronger than ever, making everyone piss their pants. And it got this way because you wanted to help. 

It’s at this point that Preston’s conversation about his depression unlocks, and his romance. 

But the fun begins when the Gunners take a modicum of offense to all this.

Sanctuary is put to the sword, the Castle is attacked, and best of all, the old Colonels show their face, either on the side of the Gunners as bosses, or trying to weasel their way into the Minutemen again. Preston loves killing all of them, hates sparing or talking them down. These fuckers left him, Quincy, the Commonwealth to die, they are traitors, they are pure scum. 

The Minutemen, they fight back. You take squads into Gunner camps and clear house, take it over. People stop working with or hiring the Gunners because they don’t want to piss off the General, whoever that is. The Gunners aren’t on the ropes yet, but they’re staring down Minutemen barrels and it’s only a matter of time before this explodes into someone getting wiped off the face of the earth. 

Somewhere in-between looking for the Institute, you get kidnapped by Gunners and taken to Quincy. They’re using you as either a hostage, intending to kill you to prove a point, or torturing you for fun, taking the piss out of the idea that the puny militia could ever stand up to- hey, why am I hearing gunfire?

Preston and the Minutemen storm Quincy, putting it under a siege not even the Gunners could ever have hoped to accomplish. If the Minutemen were dog food, the Gunners are kitty treats. It’s a swift, brutal execution of every green-wearing bastard. They don’t even have time to prepare before Preston himself kicks the door down and frees you, then runs back out to continue bashing people’s heads in with his rifle. You meet up with Ronnie, and she points you down Preston’s warpath, gently asking if you can go stop before he gets himself killed trying to throttle Clint. As you chase him down, you see Clint up on the highway, looking down, before he walks away, presumably to meet Preston. 

You can go find Preston, kill Clint before he gets to him, or go kill Baker first. If Preston gets to Clint, you’ll hear him screaming bloody murder before they start the fight. They’ll fight until you go finish Clint off. Once Clint drops, Preston has something of a nervous breakdown. Ronnie and other Minutemen show up, she takes over and tells you to finish clearing Quincy with the other soldiers while she gets Preston out of the fight. You can listen to her, or insist you stay with Preston. If you stay, you clear the way for Ronnie’s group to get back behind Minutemen lines just outside of Quincy. Baker can be killed by NPC Minutemen, so you don’t have to worry about it too much.

The Minutemen have Quincy again, Preston is recovering from his panic attack, and Ronnie is foaming at the mouth at the idea of going at Gunner HQ. You can agree or disagree. If you’ve been killing the Colonels, Preston will think that the Gunners are in such bad shape, it’s only a matter of time before they kill themselves with infighting, just as the Minutemen did. If you’ve spared the Colonels, he’ll want to finish off the Gunners, as they’re still too organized and armed to leave alive. If Ronnie is General, the Minutemen attack Gunner HQ anyway, no matter what, but if not, the player can influence Preston or make the decision themselves.

Laying siege to Gunner HQ cements the Minutemen’s place as the strongest army in the Commonwealth. With this ending for the Minutemen, non-important/notable raider hideouts will be cleared automatically, either because soldiers killed them, or the Minutemen were so oppressive, they couldn't find anyone to raid. Other factions will speak more carefully to you, be gentler when describing their intentions. Maxson and other BOS soldiers, if you join them, will mention that being so close to the Castle was unintentional, and they’re nervous about the Minutemen turning their artillery on the Airport. You’ll have a harder time getting the Brotherhood to go to war with Minutemen in this ending. Everyone in game will acknowledge what the Minutemen become, through your efforts.

If you let the Gunners dissolve, you’ll see Gunners having left for raider groups, groups of them killing each other, Gunners trying to get in with the Minutemen. Those Gunners, if you’re general, you can take them on, kill them, or turn them away. General Ronnie will kill them, General Preston’s choice depends on if you have been more merciful, or grudge-holding. People will comment on the Gunners wasting away into little more than scavengers, and with enough time, if you go to Gunner HQ, you find it empty and abandoned. People are less scared of the Minutemen this ending, as they didn’t obliterate the most dangerous local  army in a show of total force and revenge. The Brotherhood is more likely to go to war with you, less intimidated, but the Railroad will offer their spy network if you agree to help them rehabilitate and save synths, provided you’ve spoken positively of synths.

Either ending, the Institute will try to destroy the Minutemen, as they destroyed the Commonwealth Provisional Government in the past. But now, the Minutemen have the firepower and intel to destroy the Institute, or take it over, if you so choose. Even if you don’t follow Shaun, if you choose to or convince General Ronnie/Preston to spare the Institute and use it for the Commonwealth’s benefit, you are left with it under your control, enforced by the Minutemen. 

So. What does this revision do?

I dislike when people portray him as an innocent, gentle little sunshine boy, and not as an army vet who survived where none of his fellow soldiers could. This man has an edge to him. He isn’t a small sad puppy, he has something of a mean streak in canon. In this revision, Preston has opportunities to demonstrate layers of his character, showing how his trauma and guilt has effected him. You get to see it for yourself, rather than hear about it. You can see him break down in Quincy, you can see him resist the idea that strangers can have good intentions, you can see him rebuild his hope for the Minutemen and himself. And you can also see him lose patience for people who have wronged him, want to cut down anyone who would threaten his people, be kind of irrational and lashing out.

I also dislike that the Minutemen have no visible effect on the wasteland, nothing you can actually see. No one else sees it, either. Here, people will acknowledge the Minutemen’s power. And, c’mon, in game, you are the only one doing anything. In this rehaul, you get things started, but people will be active participants in restoring the Minutemen, will build settlements for you. You can go decorate and fiddle around, but you won’t have to worry about water, food, beds, and defense, they’ll get it sorted themselves. The busywork is also passed off to soldiers, who you could potentially catch in the action as they clear out mutants or save kidnapped settlers.

And the finale of facing off against the Gunners, and either destroying them, or brushing them off as a decaying tantrum with guns, gives the Minutemen something to do for themselves, beyond the Institute. You’d have to lock off Quincy and Gunner HQ, so the player can’t clear them without going through the questline, but that’s fine, other quests do that. But the Gunners are never brought up, not really. It also lets Preston confront his greatest trauma and come up victorious, even if it hurt, and when deciding on the fate of Gunner HQ, lets him evolve as a person and take influence from the player, depending on their relationship. 

I think, as the de facto companion for his faction, Preston’s arc needs to be directly tied to it. The other companions don’t really have this either, but Preston got the short straw in that he was his faction. Everything came from him and was turned in to him. He became a dispenser for quests instead of one person in this group, with his own ideas about how to run it, his own fears and guilt about how it failed the first time. He doesn’t reflect the Minutemen, their ideals. Who they are as a collective.

Deacon, Danse, and X6 have their own massive writing issues, but it’s clear that they are representations of their factions. Deacon is an all-over-the-place trickster type trying to keep shit together, the Railroad is a clown car trying to smuggle slaves to safety. X6 is a cold, ruthless, logical Terminator, the Institute are cold, sterile, ends-justify-the-means scientists. Danse is a stern, no-nonsense soldier with a good heart under the Power Armor, the Brotherhood is a tight-knit brotherhood, an army with good intentions that often forgets who those good intentions are meant to serve. 

Preston...he’s a good guy, a traumatized one. The Minutemen...you have 5 nameless “Minuteman Soldier” NPCs, and Ronnie. So...the Minutemen is Preston, Preston is the Minutemen. He isn’t allowed to be Preston, who is a Minuteman. He’s Preston the Minuteman. 

That’s a damn shame.

[unladyboss]

JUST CARMY

I'm always so confused about Carmy's behavior. Like the more I try to figure it out, the more confused I get. It's like what Ebra said about Mikey, he got confused by his behaviors. So I thought about it and realized that maybe I was confused because I'm SUPPOSED TO BE CONFUSED.

Because you can't reason out the behavior of an addict. I really think now that Carmy is a high functioning alcoholic. When I figured that out, my heart dropped and I looked at all scenes with different eyes. Hear me out. High functioning alcoholics are difficult to spot. They can maintain near normal appearance for job, family, friends etc, but it eventually catches up

1. The alcohol in the office . It's there always. Check the green bottles

2. Alcohol just at different levels

3. Carmy's mom is an alcoholic. It's rare for none of the kids not to be alcoholic. Mikey was a drug addict.

4. Maybe the reason Syd's dad hasn't met him yet is because he'd get outed. Syd's dad doesn't drink, possibly because he used to drink too much.

5. If Syd's dad used to drink too much it would explain, some of her attraction to Carmy. That codependent thing that occurs in families of addicts

6. Claire. I'm sorry I was mean about Claire but she was a big big clue. That's why Claire was brought in.

When she said she remembers Carmy and he gave her the wrong number, its possible that the past him also drank too much. I'm not too sure

However, she manages sad drunk people. Even though he doesn't drink in front of her and drinks pop. The clues were in front of us. Red cup party.

The insistence of Claire to track him down. Possibly a tool to help him see that he needs help. She manages him the whole time.

7. The anxiety

8. The ibuprofen for headaches

9. The insomnia

10. Everything in his life is pointing toward him needing help

11. He's going to Al-Anon meetings. We think it's just about Mikey but then the look of the meeting changes and he says it's three times a week so Al Anon may have switched to real alcoholics anonymous meetings

12. Mikey not wanting him to work at the bear, might be him knowing that Carmy would probably fall into worse things... Maybe he saw Carmy's own addiction and kicked him out

13. The tattoo. He knows alcohol is bad and can kill, not just because of his mom, but because he's doing it.

14. The mood swings. Screaming at people, anger, one minute mad, the next minute calm

15. All the Al Anon pamphlets he was reading. That wasn't just about Mikey. It was for him

16. Brain issues - wet brain. 'is that sound in my head?' When the alarm goes off. Cicero asks if it's not driving him crazy. He said he's used to it.

Is my hair on fire? He asked Syd

17. The fidgeting fingers. Withdrawal. Need a drink to stabilize

18. The disappearing, like into the fridge. Remember one time the Pepto was in there? The drink could be too if it's not in the office any more

Pepto usually near to the alcohol . Disappearing from the Bear. Just bailing on things in general.

19. The delusions seeing his old boss at friends and family and being inconsolable.

29. Panic attack.

The whole sydcarmy thing could be and probably IS happening simultaneously along with the high functioning alcoholism.

But this is mad serious.

30.I think they put JOSH in that last episode to show just how high functioning an addict could be, but that eventually the addiction will ruin things

31. Big hints at Claire's party

32. The chest pain, heart beating fast

This is so serious.

I don't think I'm wrong

We said the show runners were playing in our faces. I thought they meant just about Syd. It was probably them trying to show us THIS, but we were too distracted by SYDCARMY.

When I figured this out, I couldn't watch the sydcarmy interaction the same way any more.

This whole time he's probably been going through bouts of withdrawal and symptoms of that, along with relapsing.

I feel sick.

I HOPE I'm wrong, but I don't think so at all.

You guys. Talk me out of this. I need reassuring words right now.

[stardustluvs]

Let Me Make It Up To You - Nolan X Karl

MDNI

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: Nolan Hansen x Karl Jacobs (established)

Summary: After a particularly difficult MrBeast challenge, which Nolan wins, Karl gets upset due to already having a bad day on top of losing. They talk about it, and Nolan apologizes for the shitty day in the form of sex.

Warnings: NSFW, Hurt/Comfort(?)

Author's Note: I’m super proud of this fic, I think it might be some of my best work in a while! I got this idea from a random prompt generator online, and also because I need Karlan content, even if that means writing it myself.

Requests are open! || masterlist

“Damnit!” Karl groaned, picking his, now cracked, phone off the ground. He accidentally dropped it while walking out of his house and now it’s practically shattered.

Well, shattered, seemed like a bit overdramatic, but it was definitely cracked nonetheless.

He had already woken up in such a bad mood and now he’s lucky if his phone still worked normally. He had woken up from some stupid nightmare, hardly able to catch his breath. On top of the nightmare, he had barely been able to sleep in the first place.

He would much rather stay home today and allow himself to cool down, but unfortunately for him, that wasn’t a possibility. He had agreed to partake in an upcoming challenge video, and he’d feel bad having to cancel on Jimmy not even an hour before filming starts.

He sighed as he got in his car, using the bit of silence before starting it to think to himself. He would be surprised if his car wouldn’t give him any problems too. He’d been meaning to get a new car or get his fixed, he’s just never really had the time, constantly busy with content creation.

Besides having a horrible start to his day, he was excited for the video. He wasn’t sure what the prize for this video would be, but he knew it was a challenge in which whoever kept their hand on the prize longest, they won. They were always fun, and he loved seeing his friends, especially since that meant Nolan would be there too.

The pair had been going out unbeknownst to the rest of their friends for just under four months now. They made it official after the two decided to have a spontaneous sleepover just for the hell of it. As that night went on, they got to talking and realized there seemed to be more between them than they had been acknowledging.

It’s not as though they didn’t want to tell everyone, it was just somewhat comforting to have something between only the two of them. Karl was sure they would get to that point eventually, but keeping everything on the down-low just sounded like a better situation for right now anyway.

He finally started his car to begin the drive to meet his friends. Well. He tried to anyway. Of course today is the day for his car to die on him.

“Oh, come on!” He sighed. He put his head down against the steering wheel. He honestly felt like just saying fuck it and going back inside.

He got out of his car and shut the door. It took everything inside of him to not slam the door. He pulled his now cracked phone out of his back pocket and opened his contacts. The cracks on the screen made it somewhat hard to see who exactly he was looking for, and it was extremely frustrating.

After pressing the call button on one of his contacts, he held his phone to his ear, praying for an answer.

“Hello?” A voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Nolan, hey, can you come pick me up?” Karl asked, relief practically rang through his voice as he spoke.

“Yeah, are you…okay?” Nolan asked, sounding concerned at why Karl was all panicky sounding.

“Um, yeah, but please, I’ll just explain when I see you,” Karl sighed.

There was a pause before Nolan spoke again, “Okay…um, yeah, I’ll be there in a few.”

Karl thanked him softly before ending the phone call and sitting down on the curb, staring at the ground. He traced circles into the sidewalk while he waited.

This day seriously could not get worse.

Thankfully, it was only a few more minutes til Nolan got there, leaning over and opening the passenger side door from the drivers seat.

Karl got in, not really even saying a word at first. Instead he waited for Nolan to speak first, which he did soon after he started driving again.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, offering his hand to Karl, who took it after a moment.

“It’s been such a bad day, Nolan, I just…I woke up from a nightmare this morning, felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I hardly slept either! Oh, and then,” Karl started, pulling his phone from his pocket using his free hand to show Nolan the cracked screen, “I dropped my phone, and then my car died!”

Karl’s voice practically broke when he finished speaking, causing Nolan to squeeze his hand softly in comfort.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, we’re gonna go do this video, have fun, and it’ll take your mind off of everything,” Nolan reassured him.

Karl appreciated the sentiment. Every time he was around Nolan his day seemed to just get better. Even though he was having such a horrible day, it was okay now, right?

Nolan pulled into a parking space near everyone else’s cars, seems as though they were the last to get to their filming location.

“You gonna be okay today?” Nolan asked as he shut his car off without worry that it wouldn’t start up again. Something Karl was jealous of right about now.

Karl had to snap himself out of his thoughts and jealousy before he nodded in response.

Nolan smiled before leaning over and kissing Karl’s cheek.

“C’mon, we should go,” Nolan said, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car, except he made it a point to hurry over to the other side of the car to get Karl’s door for him.

It was such a small gesture but it was something Karl appreciated greatly, especially after the shit day he had been having.

“Thank you,” Karl said, stepping out of the car. He wanted to take Nolan’s hand again but he could see their friends from here, and he didn’t want to raise any questions.

“Why’re you two so late?” Chandler asked, once they had joined the group.

“Long story,” Karl answered, rolling his eyes as he remembered the hell-sent morning he had.

It was then when Karl saw what this video was all about. There was a beautiful, brand new car.

“Is this what we’re competing for?” He asked, admiring the car.

“Yep, this video’s gonna work the same as all the other ‘last to move your hand’ challenges,” Jimmy answered, quickly explaining it to Karl and Nolan since they hadn’t been there for the initial explanation.

After everyone had been set up and ready to go, cameras were on and they were filming. Karl had taken a spot sort of close to Nolan, wanting the company and closeness of his boyfriend, even if nobody else knew that.

Just like that, the challenge began. Karl shifted a little so he could sort of lean against Nolan, making sure his right hand didn’t move from the car whatsoever. Nolan didn’t mind, as it wasn’t particularly odd for the two of them to be sort of clingy in front of cameras anyway, nobody would suspect a thing.

It felt like hours went by, even though it’s only been a half hour at the most. It was getting to be extremely boring, not being able to move his hand. His arm had started falling asleep, and he was pretty sure if he allowed himself to, he could’ve easily started to go to sleep somehow.

He was sitting on the ground, his right hand planted against the front tire. Nolan was next to him, his hand against one of the car doors as Karl leaned back against him.

And he probably would’ve fallen asleep, if it weren’t for Jimmy realizing everyone had gotten probably a tad too comfortable and making them stand up. Karl got up, though his body was tired from the lack of sleep, he was determined to win this car.

It felt like another ten years went by, and Karl didn’t really feel like himself at all. His lack of sleep was definitely catching up to him, and he at first thought he might fall backwards when standing up, which would've been just his luck today. Thankfully, he didn't.

The first of their friends to get out was Kris, who unfortunately moved her hand when trying to get a drink, which just left Chandler, Nolan, and Karl, who was still so determined to get this car. It was a nice car, and it was much more expensive than what he had ever been willing to spend on a car, which just made it all the more desirable.

The next part of the video was of course another challenge set by Jimmy to make time pass a little quicker. Not only did they have to stand, but they had to walk and move around the car, keeping their hand on it at all times.

Lots of laughter and jokes were being made by his friends around him, but Karl was honestly just over today, his head continuously reminding him that he broke his phone today and that he now didn't have his own car.

"You sure you're okay?" Nolan asked him softly as they walked, not wanting to draw attention to the two of them.

"Yeah, nope, I'm good!" Karl said, a faux smile on his face as he forced himself to sound happy.

Luckily, Nolan didn't push further and the video continued, and Karl continued zoning off into his own world.

Chandler was out next after his hand moved ever so slightly from the vehicle, which he didn't really even notice at first.

This left just Nolan and Karl in the challenge together, and for some reason, Karl dreaded that happening.

He tried partaking in jokes and stuff about it, but mentally he was pleading for Nolan to just let him win, even though that wouldn't be fair- nor would it be very entertaining for youtube.

Jimmy intervened with yet another challenge, except this time, it was to determine who wins, in the most annoying way possible.

A coin flip.

"Karl, call it in the air," Jimmy told him as he flipped the coin up.

Karl didn't have time to think and there definitely wasn't a strategy behind winning a coin flip. This was it, win or lose.

"Heads," He said, unsure of his choice as Jimmy caught the coin and revealed it.

Tails.

He lost.

"Sorry, Karl," Jimmy apologized as he laughed and announced Nolan as the winner. Finally, the video ended. Normally Karl would've joked, he would've laughed and celebrated, but today? He was just upset. He tried hiding behind another fake smile, he wasn't sure how believable it was anymore.

Karl excused himself for a moment, needing to just go on a walk or something to clear his mind from this bad day.

He didn't get very far, because Nolan caught up to him soon after, "Where are you going?" He asked, starting to walk with him.

Karl shrugged, "Not sure."

"What's wrong? You've had a bad day, I know, but let me help, talk to me-"

"Nolan, please, I'm not a kid, I don't need babied," Karl defended.

"I'm not babying you, I care about you," Nolan said, stopping in his tracks.

Karl stopped and turned around to look at him, "I'm not in the mood for this, please," He asked. His voice started to just sound so over everything.

Nolan knew this wasn't just over losing a stupid video, it was over his phone, and his car, and everything else that had unfortunately happened all in one day. He felt bad.

"Can I at least give you a ride home?" Nolan asked softly.

"What? In your brand new car?" Karl retorted.

"Not if you don't want to take that car," He replied, "Please just let me give you a ride," He added.

"Fine," Karl gave in.

Karl didn't know why he was being so unreasonably mean right now, Nolan hadn't done anything wrong.

Nolan led the two of them back to his car and once again, opened Karl's door for him. He wouldn't admit it, but it made Karl smile a little at how unbothered Nolan seemed by the rudeness.

Both of them got in the car and started the drive back to Karl's house. It was quiet, which was abnormal for the two of them. They were almost always talking and laughing with each other, but now they sat in almost complete silence.

When Nolan pulled into Karl's driveway, he looked over at him, waiting for one of them to speak first.

"Do you want to come in?" Karl asked after a second.

"You don't wanna be alone?" Nolan asked, a little confused because Karl had seemed to push so hard to just be alone earlier.

"No, I changed my mind," He admitted softly.

Nolan smiled a little bit before shutting his car off, both of them leaving the vehicle and walking to the front door, entering the house.

He stopped Karl from walking very far by pulling him into a hug from behind.

"I'm sorry today hasn't been very good to you, let me make it up to you," Nolan said softly, apologizing for things that were completely out of his control, yet still wanting to make up for it.

"You don't have anything to make up for," Karl said, turning around in Nolan's arms to face him. They were still standing so close to each other, which was something they had both always enjoyed.

Nolan's hands made their way down to rest at Karl's waist.

"I want you to have at least some good to your day," He said, leaning down, almost burying his face in Karl's neck, pressing soft kisses to wherever his lips could reach.

"Nolan..." Karl sighed.

"C'mon, let's go up to your room, okay?" Nolan suggested, speaking softly against Karl's neck.

The feeling gave Karl a chill, and suddenly he was extremely okay with whatever Nolan had planned.

"Okay," He smiled softly, as Nolan pressed one more kiss against his neck.

He moved to make eye contact with Karl again, smiling a little back at him, "Yeah?" He asked wanting a confirmation.

Karl confirmed his answer by nodding softly, then leaned up a little, kissing Nolan gently. Nolan returned the kiss, continuing to hold Karl close to him.

It was those moments that it was nice knowing this was just between the two of them. It made it so much more special in Karl's opinion.

When Nolan pulled away, he took Karl's hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom, shutting the door behind both of them. He pulled Karl over to the bed and pushed him down, Karl laughing a little as he allowed himself to fall backwards onto the mattress.

"I like seeing you actually happy," Nolan said, taking his shirt off and discarding it to the floor somewhere before getting on the bed as well.

“You make me happy,” Karl replied, pulling Nolan down into another kiss.

Nolan kissed back, deepening it. One hand was against the mattress beside Karl, the other found it’s way to Karl’s waist again, slipping up under his shirt ever so slightly. He swiped his tongue across Karl’s lips.

Karl practically surrendered all power to Nolan, which is how it usually went, and it felt so perfect every single time.

The kiss became somewhat messy, Nolan finally pulling away to let both of them breathe for a second. Their bodies pressed close against each other, Karl’s arms around Nolan as their lips met again.

Nolan rocked his hips slightly against Karl, causing the other to whine at the friction.

“Nolan please,” Karl mumbled, bucking his hips up slightly to try to get more friction than what he had been teased with.

Nolan responded to this plea by sitting up and helping Karl remove his shirt. Karl worked to unbutton Nolan’s jeans, then undoing his own.

After the two were able to shuffle the rest of their clothes off, leaving both of them in their boxers, Nolan leaned down and kissed Karl’s neck again. He adored the little noises that would escape the other’s lips when he would gently nip at certain spots he seemed to have memorized.

Karl bucked up against Nolan again in an attempt to grind against him to gain some sort of relief.

Nolan let out a shaky breath at this movement, gliding his hand down Karl’s body and starting to palm him through the light fabric of his boxers.

“Shit- Nolan, God…” Karl said under his breath, unable to hold back the small smile that formed on his lips afterwards.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, this is about you, Karl,” Nolan said softly, slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of Karl’s boxers, dangerously close but not close enough to where Karl desperately wanted him to be.

“Touch me, please, Nol, need it so bad,” Karl begged, his voice sounded so broken yet Nolan had hardly done anything. He adored the amount of attention Nolan paid to him, now, and all the time.

“All you gotta do is say so,” Nolan reiterated, pushing Karl’s boxers down.

Karl swore under his breath at the relief he got from the movement.

His cock was painfully hard under Nolan’s touch as he felt him start to stroke the length at a mostly slow but absolutely perfect pace. Karl bit his lip to suppress any noises from escaping his throat.

He allowed his eyes to close as Nolan sped up ever so slightly, whining when his boyfriend would move his wrist in just the right way or when his thumb would graze over his tip, using the precum that had formed as lube. Karl gripped onto the pillow behind his head as he opened his eyes to look at Nolan. God why did he always know what to do?

“You don’t gotta hide your pretty noises from me, Karl,” Nolan praised, continuing to stroke Karl’s dick while he leaned down and pressed more kisses to his neck, chest, and anywhere else he could reach.

“Mm, Nolan, need you so bad…” Karl whimpered out.

It didn’t take much for Karl to become completely undone and submissive in bed, but God was it fun to be the reason. Nolan practically thrived knowing he was able to make Karl such a mess without hardly touching him.

Karl was a whining mess within the next few seconds, and Nolan could tell he was getting close, “Please, want you to fuck me so bad…” he groaned. Nolan could tell Karl was getting closer and closer to his release, so he slowed his previous movements down to a stop, moving his hand from Karl’s dick.

Karl looked like he could’ve cried right then and there at the loss of friction, though he knew he was in for something better.

Nolan pushed his boxers off, where they were then thrown to the floor to join the rest of their clothes. He reached over to Karl’s bedside table to grab the lube that he knew was there.

He repositioned Karl slightly, just to allow himself better access.

He squirted some lube out of the bottle and onto his fingers, using his hands to warm it up some.

“You’re still okay, right?” Nolan asked, wanting a final confirmation before going any further.

“Nolan, I am so okay right now,” Karl said, adding a small laugh towards the end of his sentence.

Nolan lined his index finger to Karl’s hole and pushed it in, slowly. He watched how Karl got used to the feeling, already letting out more soft noises.

He started to push his finger in and out, listening to Karl whine at even the smallest movements.

By the time Nolan introduced a second finger, Karl had been gripping onto the bedsheets, or anything he could hold onto, really. He felt so desperate with the way Nolan’s fingers just barely reached where he needed them to the most.

“Oh my God, need more, please, Nolan,” Karl whimpered again, “need you.”

Nolan pulled his fingers out of Karl once he felt as though the other was ready, squirting a little more lube onto his hand and spreading it onto his own cock, groaning a little at the sudden attention to his dick. He lined himself up with Karl’s hole and pushed into him slowly.

It was enough for Karl’s eyes to roll back some as Nolan began to move, grabbing onto Karl’s legs to help build a bit of a steady pace.

The only sound falling from Karl’s mouth was Nolan’s name.

He sounded so pretty.

Nolan fucked into him a little harder, causing Karl to get louder.

“Fuck, Nolan, can I touch myself?” He asked through an almost broken voice.

“You don’t gotta ask,” Nolan reminded him, wanting Karl to enjoy himself however he wanted to.

Karl’s hand moved to his dick and started to pump himself at the same pace Nolan had been fucking him at. He was getting so close to his climax, craving his release so badly.

Nolan was getting close too, his breathing hitching as he sped up his thrusts some more.

“Close, ‘m so close,” Karl panted.

When Nolan hit Karl’s prostate, time after time, Karl’s words became less and less coherent.

“Nolan, shit, I’m cumming- ah…” Karl whined as he finally let go, cum spilling out of his cock while Nolan fucked him through his orgasm, Nolan cumming inside soon after.

Once both of them had calmed down, Nolan pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside him.

“Shit, Karl,” Nolan said through heavy breaths, laughing a little.

Karl smiled softly, feeling too tired and fucked out to even wanna talk right now. He cuddled up against Nolan while Nolan grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and cleaned them up.

He threw a blanket over both of them and kissed Karl’s forehead.

“I love you,” Karl whispered a little. It was the first time either of them had ever said it romantically, and as much as it caught Nolan off guard, it made him smile.

“I love you too,” He replied, continuing to just hold Karl as they laid together.

“I’m glad you won that video today, sorry I got so upset,” Karl apologized, kind of embarrassed for how he’d acted.

“No don’t apologize. I was actually gonna give the car to you anyway…” Nolan admitted, causing Karl to look over at him.

“You were gonna give the car to me?” He asked, kind of surprised.

“Well I mean yeah. I know you need a new car and well…It’s yours if you still want it,” Nolan explained.

“You’re sure?” Karl asked, wanting confirmation.

“Karl just accept the stupid car,” Nolan laughed.

Karl smiled over at him, “Thank you.”

With that, their conversations slowed to a stop, and they both fell asleep together.

Not all bad days have to continue to be bad.

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Isaac x OC x Jean - Soulmates AU

Planned to be a V relationship for now. this chapter is pre-relationship and focused on Amy, with some participation from Comte

Words: 1,057

Summary: Amy not only had two soulmate marks, a blurred mood mark that was always back and the other a zeroed timer, both somewhat faded. Until a trip to Paris and a mysterious encounter led her to go through a door that had her trapped in the 19th century. The timer now indicated she's met he soulmate, on a night she had contact with many new people. But who is it, and why does she have the second mark that still seems inactive?

I planned for this to be a full fic for my birthday ended up being just the short start of a series.

Next Chapter / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Everyone Amy knew had one clear soulmate link, be it a physical mark, a bond only them could see or even a more spiritual connection. They always knew there was this person out there that was made for them, no matter how they reacted to that knowledge.

She, on the other hand, had two different links, a blurred, tattoo-like one in her right wrist, that was supposed to be a mood mark but was always black, and a zeroed counter on the left, both of them quite faded.

Everyone around her was so confused, and ended up treating her with pity, because she would never meet that soulmate, or one of them would die, or other depressing explanations they came up with to explain her strange marks. Amy took to hiding them and pretending like she didn’t care to meet that soulmate.

As much as she would rather not lie, especially to her sisters, she couldn’t take that treatment anymore.

Until she had to take her clothes off for some reason, it was so easy to pretend she didn’t have these marks and didn’t care about it. To pretend she was one of the rare people who didn’t have soulmates. Easy to pretend her life was normal.

But this trip to Paris had been difficult. The city of love was like a flashing sign of what she didn’t have. To the point a chance meeting had her wishing she could just fall in love with someone else and move on. She would have jumped at the opportunity that encounter presented if that mysterious gentleman was actually her type.

Still he was quite curious. He had that air about him of a good puzzle to pierce together, and of memories she would rather forget, but she was drawn to anyway.

And that led her to that suspicious door, that reeked of dust and things forgotten, of time lost and shadows.

That was probably her imagination, though, and Amy walked in, determined to prove herself wrong. But the moment she stepped on the other side, she knew it was true, and that she had made a mistake, despite her superficial attempts at rejecting such a notion. Until proven otherwise. Then there was no more escape.

But at the time she cursed her luck, without realizing what it would bring her.

The day that changed it all started like a nightmare. She had several nightmares that night, with vampires, - Sebastian told her he was joking after saying everyone in the house was a vampire, but she had this sickly feeling that he wasn’t, - and with her past. Then Comte had insisted on taking her shopping - which Amy only agreed because she doubted in a month she wouldn’t have to go to the city once - which meant a fifteen minutes, hellish carriage ride.

“What is bothering you, chérie?”He had to notice, didn’t he? Amy bit her lip and clasped her hands together over her lap. “Still worried by being trapped in this time?”

“No.” Amy replied, without looking at him. “I’m fine, actually. Love a good adventure.” Wouldn’t be a lie, as long as it didn’t involve vehicle rides, or being otherwise trapped., both of which were currently true. She was forced on this adventure, trapped on this time period, and on a carriage, in a vulnerable moment in front of a stranger that might or not be a vampire, but that she didn’t fully trust either way.

“Then why are you so tense?”

“Not exactly looking forward to shopping, I admit. I don’t belong here, and pretending to fit in is not really my style.” Although sometimes necessary, it always bothered her.

“We can always get you something more comfortable to use at home."

It was hard to believe Comte was just that nice, but if he wasn't he could disguise it better than most people. She ended up giving him a weak smile and a nod. She doubted anything could be comfortable enough, but his willingness to understand her and at least try made her a bit emotional in that moment.

She was far anyway from anything she ever knew. Alone. And she had not made such a choice. Amy hated that and needed someone she could trust. She was willing to try trusting him for the time being.

Then came actual shopping. The shop Comte took her to was obviously on the more expensive side, which made her doubly uncomfortable. Comte, on the other hand, was way too excited about it, dismissing her concerns about the unecessary expediture and constantly pointing out things he thought would fit her.

And he kind of had better taste than she expected, finding what would maybe be her style if she had always lived in this century. In the end she managed to find something pretty reasonable to try on.

That led to her first change of clothes in this century - seeing that she had nothing to change into before - allowing for her gaze to fall on the easily spotted mark on her wrist, that now looked as clear as anyone else’s. Also, the counter had turned into the previous day’s date, with a heart at the end, a sign she’d met her soulmate then.

A weird surprised noise escaped her and in a moment Comte was on the other side of the curtain.

“Something wrong, chérie?”

“No.” She hurried to answer. “Everything’s fine. I’ll get out soon.”

But the sight remained in the front of her mind as she hurriedly got dressed. Who was her soulmate, then? There were eleven guys in that mansion. Well, technically ten, as she never actually met Jean d’Arc. How would she figure out who it was?

And was that why the mark had been all weird since it appeared? Because their first meeting wouldn’t be in her time?

Maybe it was for the best she didn’t figure it out though. Soulmate or not, she had to return to her time. She didn’t belong in this one.

So she tried to forget it, and enjoy her limited time in this weird adventure as best as she could. It was enough to know why this didn't work. That her dilema had an explanation.

Not everyone actually ended up with their soulmates. She could find her own happiness in the future knowing why she had to, right?

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

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[sirensskai]

My Ripp Grunt headcanons

It was about time I put them all in one place because as you can tell I’m obsessed with him and have a lot😭 Some of them might make no sense whatsoever or sound weird or are probably me just projecting but who cares lol. If I forget any or think of more I’ll add them later. Also it’s going to be really long…

Anyway… “So Kai, how much do you like Ripp???”

Me:

Birthday

I have come up with a birthday for Ripp. December 13, 1988. (Yes I know December 13 is the same date as Taylor Swift lol.) He is a Sagittarius (that’s canon but that’s why I picked that birthday). I see sims 2 Strangetown as starting in 2005 and he was age 16-17 back then. He’s a year and several months younger than Tank and 4 years older than Buck.

Height

Kind of short for a guy, about 5.5. Tank and Johnny are significantly taller and he hates it.

Identity

He is bisexual and transmasculine. Maybe non binary too, specifically a non binary man (like a demiboy or something.)

Ripp has always been attracted to all genders. He doesn’t really care about that (can fit pansexual too.) He is open to seeing multiple people at once so is polyamorous too. Which can be one way of explaining the romance aspiration. And yes, he has a crush on both Ophelia and Johnny.

He is transgender and knew something was up from an early age. Like a lot of transmasc people he went down the “tomboy” to trans pipeline. He didn’t fully realise what being trans meant and that that was what he was until he was about 14 though. Ripp chose his name himself, idc. He thought it was cool.

Johnny and Ophelia were very supportive of him being trans. He had them at school when the bullies found something new to pick on. As was his mum Lyla who he is very close to. Buck didn’t fully understand at first because of being really young but is still very supportive. (Also Buck ended up becoming Rebecca and is transfem herself but that’s another character headcanon lol) Lyla helped him start HRT.

General Buzz though… I don’t see General Buzz as entirely transphobic. I think he’s the kind of person to prefer having sons, but is still weird about Ripp being trans. He is kind of against it at first but gets used to it. He would also want Ripp to be a man in the “right” way (based on a Tumblr post I saw.) He messes up pronouns sometimes but at least tries. He still thinks Ripp is a fucking lazy ass disappointment overall though 😭 “yeah you are trans or bi, whatever, but you are still my worst son ever.” I think he would be more concerned if any guy Ripp dated was an alien over the fact they were a guy (oops, he already has a crush on Johnny Smith.) General Buzz’s conflicting views about Ripp with Lyla also contributed to those two’s strained relationship. He sees a lot of Lyla in Ripp, in both appearance and personality and he hates being reminded of her.

Tank was in a similar position of getting used to it over time. Didn’t mean he stopped wanting to beat his ass all the time though. He had some internalised stuff he had to deal with himself though (being his own person with his own wishes and also, gay.)

Ripp took Lyla disappearing very hard, especially since she was the one helping with his transition. He was on his own. Things got complicated because General Buzz was still kind of unsupportive. Ripp snuck out for several days to get top surgery by himself and General Buzz was very angry about that.

Personality

He’s a very sweet person overall. He’s friendly with almost everyone and hates conflict, but if he is confronted he loves taking the piss out of them. He’s very positive most of the time despite his terrible life. Very talkative and can go on and on. Tries to make a joke and lighten the mood with just about everything, including himself, even if he does go too far sometimes (which he instantly feels bad about if he makes someone sad.) Definitely swears a lot which his father hates, but he loves annoying his father.

Relationships

I don’t think he has a bad relationship with his father and Tank forever. They make up at one point and maybe they don’t become really close but they at least get along somewhat again (no horrible PSP ending in my sims game.)

He was very close with Lyla, probably the most out of all three of Lyla’s sons so he was devastated when she left, and even more so when he found out she died. One of the few supportive people in his life and she was gone.

Him and Buck (or Rebecca later) are very close due to them both having a strained relationship with General Buzz. Rebecca looks up to Ripp a lot. Also they end up both being transgender which they make a joke out of later. “I can’t believe we’re both Grunts and trans.)

He’s been friends with Ophelia and Johnny since middle school. He hangs out with them a lot and prefers being with them to being at home. He loves being an idiot with Johnny but is sweet with Ophelia. He fell in love with Ophelia first then Johnny.

He met Lilith after she also ran away from home. The two became close because of that. They love poking fun at each other. He’s afraid Lilith will make fun of him if he tells her he likes her (but Lilith likes him too.)

Self insert time, he’s really sweet around Lana. Ripp talks a lot and Lana barely talks at all due to their extreme shyness but he doesn’t mind. He cares for them a lot. He is the most calm and gentle to them and loves listening to them ramble about their interests. He might want to marry her.

Music Career

Ripp was always interested in music, mostly rock music but he is open to other genres as well. I see him as being very into Nirvana. He started playing guitar at school with Johnny Smith, covering their favourite songs. Lyla got him own guitar, and he also started writing his own songs, uploading them to MySpace or something.

At one point he runs away from home and gets a trailer for himself. Away from his father, he has a lot more freedom to do what he wants with his life. He’s still working at the gas station and going to a lot of music labels and he eventually gets signed to one. He has his first major song released through them.

Ripp is the lead singer and guitarist in a band as well as a soloist, with Johnny Smith, Lilith Pleasant and Mercutio Monty, the last two he meets and befriends at one point. (Idk what to name this band yet lol.) Johnny also plays guitar, Lilith is the bassist and Mercutio plays the drums.

His music style is very diverse. And I’m also going to base them off Lana Del Rey albums and songs because why not. His very early work is very acoustic. The first ep and debut album he releases has influences of grunge, surf rock and psychedelic rock. A lot of guitar sounds. And whatever sounds come out of AKA Lizzy Grant.

He goes through some tough things in life which is why he takes a break between his debut and his second album. The sound of this album is quite different. Still guitar heavy but also very slowed, dark and psychedelic. Probably some of his most depressing songs ever. Definitely has a song calling out General Buzz. His Ultraviolence era. It’s a little bit of a concept album too, there’s some sort of storyline throughout. He wears black eyeliner on stage.

The next album is experimental, a little bit of the style of his first album back with the guitar but also some trap beats in there. If I could describe it in a Lana Del Rey song it would be Freak Like Me Demo. Also the most horny album. Bisexual anthem in there though.

The latest album I’ve imagined for Ripp (idk why I’ve imagined all these albums for a sims 2 premade, please help) he explores pop. Lust for Life era (I’m still drawing that, I have a vision.) It’s a lot more uplifting than his previous work and it changes the world. Also somewhat of a horny album too. He dies the ends of his hair purple.

Ripp moves to Del Sol Valley at one point when he becomes a celebrity and gets a house in the pinnacles.

He is definitely very popular in terms of being attractive. There are people making thirst TikToks of him and writing self insert fanfiction and everything. (Couldn’t be me. /s) Some fans are really obsessed with him. To the point they would leak his unreleased music and post it everywhere which is unfortunate but some of them are so good (I’m writing a fic based on this.)

He also does campaigns and advertisements and things as part of being a celebrity, there’s a billboard or magazine cover somewhere where he’s modelling underwear 🙏 And he also hopes it annoys his dad if he sees it and recognises his face lol

His social medias would be hilarious and he would also own terrible people.

Other random hcs

I think Ripp was an unplanned child. Lyla was happy to have him but General Buzz not so much, he kind of hated Ripp from day 1.

He was a “problem child” at least in General Buzz’s eyes and also the schools he went to where he had behaviour issues and struggled to focus. His dad made him see a psychologist. He’s autistic (or aspergers back in the late 90s-early 2000s, also I don’t think General Buzz is the most up to date) and has ADHD. I don’t think this helped with General Buzz already seeing him as a disappointment. Ripp gets really fixated on music (both certain artists and creating it) or certain tv shows or very unconventional things that are kind of uncomfortable for some people. Like literally just the subject of woohoo interests him and he wants to know everything about it lol. I think he fixates on philosophical stuff too like death and the purpose of life (another thing that can lead to some uncomfortable conversations.) Very unlike the stereotype of autism because he’s really outgoing and social too, but it is a spectrum.

I think he shows a lot of affection through touch.

Really dark hc but… 😭 Although he pretends it doesn’t, I think the terrible relationship he has with General Buzz and Tank, as well as Lyla disappearing and dying did really affect him. Has depression and some self esteem and emotional issues and fears abandonment. He has considered *unaliving* before. Also a weird relationship with food. Although he has max interest in food, and he eats a lot of food (but mostly junk food) he grew up with the pressure to remain thin. The dark period of his life between his first two albums involved that and he may have abused substances too. I’m a terrible person, I’m sorry 😭. The romance sim part of him might have spawned from craving the love he didn’t get at home. He feels undeserving of a real relationship but deep down that’s what he actually wants.

I am sorry to him for giving him all these traumatising hcs but I can’t help myself. He was bullied in his school years 🥲 The psp secret of him being afraid of toilets from “one too many swirlies as a child” is to do with this. Tank was involved too maybe, but I don’t believe it was all down to him and he’s a terrible person. With the trans headcanon, I think he was picked on by both boys and girls. Girls didn’t like him for being “weird” and boys would go out of their way to hurt him for trying to fit in with them.

Due to General Buzz being in the millitary, he travelled to a lot of places and moved around a lot prior to going back to middle school in Strangetown. I think he would become interested in different cultures and pick up some words of different languages. He lived in Tomerang at one point.

Ripp is kind of feminine. He isn’t afraid to like “feminine” things and he loves jewellery and painting his nails.

He has a brow piercing and a septum.

He gets a sleeve tattoo.

Has rarely ever cut his hair in his life, he lets it grow really long and he doesn’t care. He would hate for all of his hair to just be chopped off (and that’s also what his father wants)

Smokes, both cigarettes and weed. Tries to stop smoking the cigarettes later on though. Him, Johnny and Ophelia get stoned together and sometimes Lana if she’s willing.

He’s quite arty (his canonical one true hobby is set to arts and crafts.) Spends a lot of his time drawing anything from animals to horny “anatomy” pictures because why not. He takes art when he attends college.

Ripp is a great father. Idc about that romance aspiration, just because he has that doesn’t mean he’s a deadbeat father 😭 Like I’ve said before, that sounds like Don Lothario but not Ripp. His nice points are too high for that. Also being like his own dad would be the last thing he wants to be. He really cares for any kids he has, and the people pregnant with the kids. He would be a really fun dad, maybe a little permissive. Basically the opposite of General Buzz (and also how I think Lyla was.) He also cares for people in general instead of just wanting woohoo out of them.

Ripp is left handed. Sims 4 actually set him up as left handed for me lol. Left handed guitars are unavailable to him to start with so he’s forced to learn right handed 😰 But later on he gets a left handed guitar and plays amazing.

He has a tooth gap.

Cat person. General Buzz, Tank and Rebecca are all drawn to dogs but Ripp is the only cat lover 😭 He gets a havana or a maine coon (or both.)

I think Ripp fits the pleasure aspiration more than the romance aspiration to be honest. An aspiration that involves some romance but also not being a total sleaze and wanting to relax and have fun sounds more like him. It fits Lyla too (another reason why they were so close is that they had very similar personalities.) Another aspiration that fits is popularity, he’s just a very friendly person who loves making friends.

Songs that remind me of Ripp:

[altschmerzes]

Gav I am SO sorry for the length of this ….. also I am going to send a general “how are you doing ask” because this is all Jamie stuff (very therapeutic to talk about him after the week I’ve had) so I hope that’s okay!!!

Okay. So.

Jamie in this episode? A delight. I mean, he’s always a delight but WOW, I didn’t think I could love him more. And I LOVE that he was so happy and silly and having fun and I don’t want my take to take away from that (because I have been in the state I think he was in many times before).

I don’t know if this was intentional from Phil, but I think Jamie was manic in this episode — specifically trauma induced mania. I think that Amsterdam, understandably, was a HUGE trigger for him.

In that heartbreaking scene where Jamie shares something very difficult with Roy, he says “even though my dad weren’t there, it was like he was still with us, y’know?”

Cut to:

Jamie mimicking his dad’s mannerisms from his very first scene (the play punches, the frenetic energy)

Jamie reverting to being a prick for all of two seconds (the tie your laces comment was probably something he heard from his father) to see how far he could push Roy before Roy snapped at him

Running Roy ragged across the streets of Amsterdam the entire episode lol

This sent me spiralling a little because there is SO much evidence to show that Jamie was in trauma / manic in this episode, and how those mannerisms relate to that.

Cut to:

Nonstop movement, running, round offs, bouncing up and down on the spot

Lack of attention span and impulsivity — deciding they need bikes and running off to find them using his street smarts (again, likely mimicking what he has seen his father do) and also deciding that they HAVE to find a windmill. Like absolutely determined, nothing was stopping that boy lmao

Peaking in energy and then suddenly calming down once he’s taught Roy how to ride a bike

Info-dumping and non stop talking

Being confused why Roy wouldn’t want to join in on his imagined adventure “these bikes have just made tonight AMAZING!”

Now listen. Being a person with mania, you can be manic and still be …. you. I think so many of these Jamie moments are hilarious and adorable and not all down to that, but he was DEFINITELY in trauma … getting to that now:

He’s in this crazy good mood the whole night, and then he decides to share ….. the thing ….. with Roy. I think that might be his subconscious bringing up this trauma and sort of explaining the mood he’s been in, which is extremely chaotic for the entire episode until he voices it. Even if he doesn’t KNOW it’s traumatising (“she loved it”), there is something going on here. And the fact that he SUBCONSCIOUSLY, maybe even consciously I don’t know, recognised that being in Amsterdam was a trigger for him and then apologised for the way it made him behave ??????? I’m actually tearing up thinking about it I’m so fucking proud that is UNBELIEVABLE

Also. “I don’t really remember.”

I don’t think I need to explain to you how fucking heart wrenching that is but. Fuck.

This is a super jumbled and badly put mess of an ask because I am very sleep deprived but. This episode just meant so much to me because I relate to Jamie SO MUCH in this. I have genuinely had a night very similar and I am almost certainly projecting but. Yeah. To people with abuse trauma, at least for me, this was genuinely the most nuanced depiction of it that I’ve ever, EVER seen, and I don’t even know if they did it on purpose.

IM SO SORRY FOR THIS ITS NOT VERY GOOD READING IT OVER. I am definitely projecting. And also want to be clear that it isn’t JUST trauma stuff like this is also a very wholesome development in Roy and Jamie’s relationship with some very touching and hilarious moments that I’m terrified to undermine and I’m scared it’s an awful take but. Just needed to share it with you

ALLL MY LOVE AS ALWAYS <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

never apologize for long messages!!!! i love long messages i love hearing from and chatting with my pals including my pen pals.... and like yeah. yeah i have been so much thinking about all of this. like he was happy! he was really happy at a lot of points in that episode but it had a bit of a weird exaggerated energy that didn't click until that point later when he told that. frankly brutal story that like ah, okay, that all makes sense now. he was upbeat and happy and it was clear he was having a good time and like you said, it was a lovely and touching and hilarious sequence in their subplot but 'manic' is the word that kept coming to mind. like, when you've got a mix of horrifying feelings and happy feelings about something and you decide no, i'm HAPPY i'm focusing on the good part i am FINE it's FINE it's all FINE, see how happy i am? see how normal and not ruined i am??

and yeah same i feel the same way about like- regardless of whether it was done intentionally that combination of that almost manic energy and 'i don't remember' and the way he brings it up as like- you get the feeling, really, that he knows on some level that what happened to him there was deeply, profoundly not okay, but doesn't quite know how to talk about it? gave me the same feeling that some of his comments earlier to higgins and ted did like. 'i want someone to tell me this wasn't okay, but i don't know how to say it.' and yeah like. the i don't remember comment... man that hit hard. his behaviour in that whole scene hit hard.

and that line about like. even though he wasn't there he was there with us..... winded me. that line winded me. if you grow up with an angry man in your house there will always be an angry man in your house, if you are born in a burning house you think the whole world is on fire, etc etc. it's a really complex and extremely familiar portrait of abuse trauma and i really, really appreciated seeing it. even if it's reading too much into it, even if it's projecting, i really appreciated it.

and man the whole thing especially with him bringing it up and then apologizing to roy like- i'm really proud of him for that too. he's trying really, extremely hard this season and doing such a good job of Being An Adult, being responsible, being accountable, being Good. even in situations where it has to feel unbelievably scary and threatening - going to the coaches about zava and presenting his concerns to the whole room full of authority figures he admires and respects, telling roy that story and then taking the initiative to apologize, even before this season, 'if you know how to make me better, i want to hear it' - it's just like. he's giving everything he has to do better, be better. he's- gutting himself, in pursuit of Being Good, in a couple of different ways and MAN it's like. it's hard to watch but it's incredible to watch at the same time. man. there's a reason this character absolutely kills me.

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Mercy

Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation Pairing: Jean-Luc Picard x fem!Reader Words: 2.1K Requested: Yes, by  @leylovestaytay A/N: I'm sorry that it took so long, but I had a lot on my plate lately. I also discovered how different it can be to write for a request, so I had to get into it again.

I hope it's somehow satisfactory.

Frustrated, she stared at the drink in front of her. She hadn't even ordered one, yet Guinan had only glanced at her before placing the drink in front of her. The blue liquid had an almost hypnotic effect on her. The swirl she created by stirring the spoon was a frighteningly good representation of what she had been feeling until just now. With another stir of her spoon, the last moments of the last few hours came flooding back.

But before she was able to lose herself in the unwelcome and rather unattractive memories, a shadow was cast across her table. "May I join you?" She looked up and a broad smile spread across her face at the sight of the android. "Of course." Hastily, she took her belongings aside to make some room for Data. "Please, sit down." Data accepted her invitation with a curt, yet friendly nod and settled into the chair opposite her in that special, elegant way that only he could manage.

She continued to stir her glass, but couldn't really concentrate on it, as Data's piercing gaze was on her, unblinking. Sighing, she dropped the spoon back into her glass with a soft clink and looked up. Data's gaze was on her, the expression innocent and curious at the same time. A soft smile crept onto her expression. "How can I help you, Data?" " To be honest, I was about to ask you the same thing." Data moved his head into a slightly tilted position, with that all-too-familiar movement that was so typical of him. Confused, she drew her eyebrows together. "Why is that?"

"During my time among humaniod species, I have learned that it is a common behaviour of people who do not feel well and want to be left alone, but at the same time long for company. Normally, when you visit Ten Forward, you either sit at the bar itself, or at least at an already occupied table where people you know or friends of yours are sitting. Today, however, you have seated yourself in the far corner of this establishment, which is not usual for you."

She smiled slightly. Her friend might claim that he didn't understand human nature, but moments like this proved over and over again how much the android underestimated himself.

"You're right, Data." As always, she added mentally. "I just had a bad day today. Nothing more troubling." Data tilted his head. " Clarify." She sighed and continued stirring her drink with her spoon. "Oh, it's nothing more. Just - Jean-Luc and I had a little argument, nothing bigger. I got upset that he's never around, he got upset that I'm not more understanding. The bottom line is that we both just made the whole thing unnecessarily heated and said things we both didn't mean." With another sigh, she propped her head on her hand and stared into her glass again. "If you're aware that neither the captain nor you meant what you said, then why are you sitting here looking 'as miserable as sin' , if I used the phrase correctly?"

Her friend's behaviour put a small smirk on her face, however she could not suppress another sigh. Even she was getting annoyed with this constant sigh. "Because I feel bad in spite of everything. I mean, theoretically he's right. He is the captain of the ship and therefore the welfare of the crew and the safety of the ship is the most important matter in his life. And I knew that when we decided to take this relationship a step further. But- it just frustrates sometimes. And over time, that frustration built up and built up and then I took it out unfairly on him tonight. Heavens, I kicked him out of my quarters. At five in the morning!" Data nodded curtly, clear understanding evident on his face. "That would explain why the captain was in such a negative and almost irritable mood today."

She groaned. "Great. A grumpy Picard, just what everyone needed today. The crew that was on duty on the bridge today must hate me." Data tilted his head slightly again. "It would be illogical for the bridge crew to hate you. For one thing, the captain was mostly in his room, which meant he had little influence on the bridge crew anyway, and for another, I doubt they would know he was in such a bad mood because of you, if I may put it that way." She smiled slightly. "Thank you Data."

~**~

Jean-Luc felt absolutely awful. He had a headache, couldn't concentrate and, to make matters worse, an uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach region, the origin of which he knew more than well. He ran his hand over his head. What an old fool he was. Just thinking about what he had said made him feel sick. It had been unnecessary and unjustified, because in the end, she had been quite right. She had asked him for one, just one evening they could spend together, after he had already missed the last five.

He should have agreed with her, he should have shown understanding, because he could understand how difficult it could be to be with a captain who hardly ever had time for her. However, he had been too stubborn for that and had probably lost her through his stupid headstrongness.

Jean-Luc was about to bang his head on the table in despair when a jolt went through him. No, he wouldn't waste his time in his study when he could just as easily use it to reclaim the one person in his life who had filled him with warmth since the Borg had taken it so ruthlessly and abhorrently. Jerkily he rose, straightened his upper garment and left his room. On the bridge, Riker rose from his chair, however Jean-Luc gestured for him to remain seated. "You have bridge number one." A reassuring smile, at least that's what Jean-Luc hoped he was radiating, crept onto his face. "My shift is over for the day."

For a moment Riker looked at him in confusion before a knowing grin spread across his face. He just managed to shout a "good luck" to Jean-Luc before the turbolift doors closed. Jean-Luc swallowed slightly. The way he saw the situation, he was going to need it. As the turbolift passed deck after deck at an agonising pace, Jean-Luc gave the computer the order to locate her.

It didn't feel right to use his authority like this, however, he needed to get this matter out of the way as soon as possible. He simply had to. He frowned all the more puzzled when the computer played back that she was to be found in the arboretum. He couldn't remember hearing her mention that she liked it there. A stab hit him in the ribs. Maybe he really had just been horribly inattentive.

As soon as the turbolift doors had opened wide enough to let him out, he slipped between them and hurried down the corridor. He was well aware of the astonished looks from his crew, but at that moment he didn't care. He had more important things to do. He turned the corner until he finally stopped in front of the doors to the arboretum. Jean-Luc took a deep breath and adjusted his uniform top one last time before entering the arboretum through the sliding doors.

The scent of hyacinths immediately filled his nose, along with other scents of plants he could not identify at first, but Jean-Luc thought he remembered receiving a report from Mrs O'Brien. Apparently, it was about one of her projects that she had not been able to finish before her relocation to Deep Space Nine. He would read it over again later.

With brisk steps he hurried along the winding gravel path, paying no attention to the floral beauty around him. His only thought at that moment was to find her, and beg for mercy. He turned another corner and stood stock-still. Surrounded by shrubs and beautiful purple, Bajoran flowers, stood Data, with a puzzled look on his face, and her.

Bent over in front, shaking with silent laughter, she stood there. Silent tears of laughter ran down her face and for a moment Jean-Luc's whole being filled with warmth. However, only a moment later, he felt another, more unattractive feeling spread through him and was startled to discover that it was jealousy.

Jean-Luc was well aware that there was no point in being jealous. She and Data had always been excellent friends, with a unique friendship that even he had valued, yet a small, insecure part of him couldn't help but feel jealous at the sight. Immediately he felt ashamed for having such thoughts, but he simply couldn't push them completely aside. What if she has already gotten over you? Jean-Luc shook his head vigorously, but that cursed insecure part of him, however small, could not get rid of the thought that he had already lost her.

Just at that moment, Data turned slightly to the side and noticed him. Instantly he stood a little straighter and nodded curtly at him. "Captain." The words seemed to bring her out of her trance, for slowly the laughter died away, which Jean-Luc more than regretted, and slowly straightened up. As she did so, she waved her hands in the air to stop herself from bursting into tears of laughter again. She nodded slightly at him too, but fought her laughter too hard to say anything.

Jean-Luc took a step closer to her. "I need to talk to you." With a sideways glance at Data, he added "'In private', please." She hesitated, or was he imagining it, before she turned to her friend and nodded at him. For a moment Data's eyes twitched back and forth before he nodded. "Ah. I see. I will leave you alone now." With that, he turned completely and left the arboretum. They were alone.

With a raised eyebrow and a slight smile, she turned back to him. "You wanted to talk to me?" "What do I have to do?" Confused, she drew her eyebrows together, causing a crease to form on her forehead. "What?" "What do I have to do?" Jean-Luc knew the expression he was wearing right now was more than desperation as he grabbed her hands.

"Do you want me to get you something? Do you want me to do something? Do you want me on my knees begging for mercy? Because I will if you ask it! Tell me, please. I know I've been inattentive, unreliable and not understanding, but there must be something I can do." He didn't understand why sheer horror showed on her face. "Jean-Luc, what-"

He interrupted her. "I know I work too much, I know I can barely spend time with you, and I know I'm not the youngest or most attractive man you could have. But please, mon amour, I ask nothing more than one more chance, just one, to prove that I am quite capable of improving."

Now she seemed completely horrified. "Jean-Luc, what are you talking about? Is everything okay? Has Beverly been shoving some kind of medication down your throat again, darling?" Now it was up to Jean-Luc to be confused. Darling? "Our fight... you threw me out and I said horrible things. And our relationship was... ended?"

"What?!" For a moment she stared at him before bursting into peals of laughter. Jean-Luc felt his face grow hot and was pretty sure his ears were also turning red. He didn't think he could remember a moment in his life that had been so shameful for him. He had screwed up, so badly that she couldn't even take him seriously anymore. Slowly he tilted his head and let go of her hands as her grip tightened around his. Confused, he looked up, only to look into her understanding smile.

"Darling, you've got it wrong." Gently, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek. "Yes, we had a fight. And yes, we both said things in the heat of the moment that we didn't mean. But that happens. It's not pretty, but it's normal for relationships. I mean, in some species it's already considered flirting if you argue."

Jean-Luc looked at her hesitantly. "That means you're not breaking up with me? Even though I seem to be horrible at being in a relationship?" She just laughed and put her arms around his neck. "You're not horrible. And if you think I'm going to let you go now after making me wait so long for you, you're wrong." She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and pulled a befuddled Picard behind her. "Now come on. Keiko told me she had planted some Bajoran lilacs around here somewhere, which are supposed to smell incredibly good."

A warm feeling spread through Jean-Luc and he smiled slightly at her, though she couldn't see it. He might be an old fool, but he was the happiest old fool in the Alpha Quadrant.

[tamaruaart]

GIMME ME THAT SWEET SWEET ZHAO LORE (please) 💕

Kay' so I already gave yall' her backstory but I might as well explain something about her character.

So in her backstory there are three major parts:

-Her family (The Lihuang Clan)

-Lánhūa

-and Jttw

Now I didn't mention this in my other post but Lánhūa wasn't immortal, even though Zhao was.... I said Zhao and Wukong met when Wukong was 346 years under that mountain and as we all know he was under there for 500 years total. So wouldn't you guess 164 years later when he goes to visit his girl buddie and well... I think you all know what happened 😔

Losing her family who she loved but knew didn't love her back was already so much, and now she lost Lánhūa as well.

In book JTTW her family and Lánhūa were her two losses and Tripitaka & the pilgrims were the people who stuck. Now I wanted there to be specifically two loses and the recovery, these three stages are meant to symbolize "the rain, the storm and the Sun"

The rain symbolizes her leaving her family, because rain isn't such a big deal, you know? You can always chose to get under your umbrella or something like that. Why? So you don't get wet. Just like Zhao left her family because she didn't want to be mistreated anymore

The storm symbolizes Lánhūa's death. When there's a storm you can't really stay outside, you just get wet, cold and dirty. It might ruin your mood because even if you do try to get home you'll get wet as all hell. And when I say storm I mean big boy storm, like the type of storm in which you can barely get out of your house. It's pure strife but in weather form. This symbolizes how when Lánhūa died Zhao's whole life was just strife, not strife with someone else, but strife with herself. She often blames herself for not doing more to help Lánhua live a long and healthy life.

The Sun symbolizes well.. Sun Wukong. After the storm comes the Sun and warms you up, in my personal experience good weather also lightens up my mood a lil' bit. Tripitaka and the pilgrims were Zhao's Sun. They didn't come and go they came and stayed. Throughout the book Zhao is very anxious to form a deeper friendship with tripitaka and the pilgrims, because she doesn't want to befriend people who she knows will leave her again. But at the end of the book when she finally realizes these people won't leave her she becomes warmer.

(After Lánhūa died Zhao because a much colder and less social person. The book is basically her character arc of becoming warmer and happier after finally finding real emotional bonds :'> )

However like I said in LMK Lánhūa is cut. So instead her rain is still her family, her storm are Tripitaka and the pilgrims and her Sun are MK and MK's group.

Considering LMK takes place hundreds of years after JTTW i think it's safe to say Sanzang, Pigsy, Sandy and Ao Lie have all passed.

So instead of losing Lánhūa she lost Tripitaka's group. And instead of finally finding people who will stay being Tripitaka's group those people are MK and MK's group.

Now you might be asking me "But Rua, Monkey is also immortal? Why don't Monkey King and Zhao stay together? They have similar problems?" Well my dears, they had a bit of a rough start when they first see each other again at the start of LMK season two (which is when Zhao gets introduced), but throughout LMK they're having a character arc of becoming friends again, and not like they hate each other (because I didn't want their relationship to just be a rip-off of Macaque and Monkey), but they're generally awkward and quiet towards one another.

So ye-

Thank you for asking and thank you for comin to my Ted talk :) (again)

[ibijau]

Fake dating to real marriage pipeline pt5 / On AO3

The next few days did nothing to improve Lan Xichen's mood. It felt off to go to work on Monday without first exchanging a few words with Nie Huaisang to check each other's plans for the day. Texting just couldn't replace a person's voice, their smile, the way they leaned against the kitchen counter as they drank their tea. It was even worse when Lan Xichen came back home that night to an empty flat that was still tidy. No one had disturbed the cushions on the sofa. No one had made a mess of the kitchen, from which no smell came to promise a delicious meal while pop music was blasted high enough that surely the neighbour would complain someday. To make it worse Nie Huaisang barely texted at all that evening, apparently busy supervising Wei Wuxian wherever it was they'd gone. 

Lan Xichen was used to being lonely. His relationship with Meng Yao had taught him that. But Nie Huaisang's absence had a different quality from what Meng Yao had put him through. Back then, he'd found comfort in the certainty that loneliness was temporary, that Meng Yao and him would eventually sort things out to live happily together. Now though, he knew that Nie Huaisang’s absence was something he would soon need to get used to, whether he liked it or not. 

After two days of moping around, and with Nie Huaisang having just texted him that he might stay away the whole week because he’d just gotten an emergency job that required him to go on-site, Lan Xichen couldn’t accept fast enough when Nie Mingjue offered to hang out in the evening.

They already saw each other frequently when Mingjue’s erratic work schedule allowed it, but lately Nie Huaisang was usually there as well, giving their time together a different quality. Lan Xichen found himself strangely relieved and grateful for a chance to be alone with Nie Mingjue, the one person in his life he could count on to be straightforward about things. After the mess that had been his life with Meng Yao, after the confusion brought on by his fake relationship with Nie Huaisang, it felt amazing to have a chat with someone who meant what he said and said what he meant.

They met at a bar they’d gone to since they were broke students, in a bustling street full of small restaurants, and sat at the terrace to enjoy the last rays of sun. Their order was the same as always, a beer for Nie Mingjue, a mocktail for Lan Xichen. Once the drink arrived, they started chatting about everything that had happened recently. They mostly asked about each other's relatives at first, then moved to complaining about issues at work, but before long Mingjue breached the topic he'd had in mind from the start. 

"Are you really ready to 'break up' with Huaisang?" he asked. "It's a pity, you both looked like you were having fun."

Lan Xichen, startled, almost dropped his glass. 

"Did he tell you that?" 

"About having fun? Not exactly. You know him, he can't be straightforward about anything. But it's pretty obvious."

"No, I mean… Did he tell you about breaking up?" 

Nie Mingjue watched Lan Xichen for a few seconds, as if searching for something, then shrugged. 

"He texted me yesterday saying it'll be in two weeks, probably on Friday or Saturday. He wanted to know if I'd be able to help him bring all his stuff back home."

Lan Xichen's fingers tightened around his glass. If he'd needed definitive proof that Nie Huaisang had grown tired of their game, that was it. 

"If he's so desperate to get rid of me, maybe he should be the one breaking up with me," Lan Xichen complained. "Ah, but that's impossible. He wouldn't get sympathy from others in that case," he bitterly added. “He's going to milk that for months.”

Nie Huaisang had extensively explained why it should be Lan Xichen initiating the breakup, offering a number of excellent and very rational arguments. Lan Xichen had agreed with most of it initially, but at the moment he didn’t feel like being generous toward Nie Huaisang’s motivations.

"Might be true," Nie Mingjue replied. "But I doubt that's the only reason he's waiting for you to do it. I told you, I think he's been having the time of his life. I haven't seen him this happy since university."

"He doesn't seem so different from usual." 

"It's subtle, but it's there when you know where to look. You also look better lately. Not today, obviously," Nie Mingjue said with a grin, "but in general. I'm glad you two have become good friends. Can't understand why it didn't happen sooner. I've been telling him for years he should talk with you more, but that brat is stubborn."

Staring down at what was left of his colourful juice, Lan Xichen remained silent for a moment. A few days earlier, hearing that would have elated him, confirming his own impression that Nie Huaisang and him had become closer. 

“I’m not sure we’re friends,” Lan Xichen said at last. “Not with the way he’s suddenly trying to get rid of me.”

To his surprise, Nie Mingjue laughed.

“You think that’s him trying to get rid of you? Xichen, you have no idea how awful he is when he’s really trying to weasel his way out of something. You should have seen him when he decided he no longer wanted to go to grandma’s every week, back when dad was still alive… He made our lives such a living hell that dad gave up in four days, and he didn’t try to make him go back until the year he died.”

“Really?”

“Really. Trust me, if he wanted this to be over, you’d have kicked him out already.”

It might have been that Nie Mingjue was just trying to comfort Lan Xichen by saying exactly what he wanted to hear, that Nie Huaisang wasn’t tired of his company. Lan Xichen wanted to believe it. But he’d wanted to believe all of Meng Yao’s lies, too, and that was a lesson he couldn’t afford to forget.

Before Lan Xichen could suggest that Nie Huaisang might be playing a complicated game neither of them understood, a voice called out to both of them. In a moment Jiang Cheng was standing next to their table, looking annoyed even by his usual standards. He greeted both of them, explaining that he was headed for a restaurant across the street when he noticed them and, since he was early to meet some friends, he’d thought he’d say hello. That didn’t surprise Lan Xichen too much, because in spite of his temper Jiang Cheng rarely forgot to be polite, and the two of them usually got along decently (or as decently as anyone who wasn’t family could get along with Jiang Cheng, anyway).

“So, when is your stupid boyfriend going to let Wei Wuxian come home?”Jiang Cheng asked once he felt he’d been friendly enough.

“Isn’t it Wei Wuxian who half kidnapped Huaisang for a new project?” Lan Xichen protested.

“Are you kidding?” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “Usually when they get up to something stupid, Huaisang is the one who came up with it. He’s just good at making Wei Wuxian think the idea was really his. And I swear, if Wei Wuxian burns his eyebrows again, just months before jiejie’s wedding, I’m gonna kill them both. Do you know how long it takes for those to fully regrow? Do you? And do you know how stupid he looks without eyebrows? Death isn’t enough if they pull some shit like that again.”

Nie Mingjue laughed at the threat, while Jiang Cheng insisted that he was serious because nothing, absolutely nothing, could be allowed to ruin his sister’s wedding in any way. Lan Xichen tried to smile as well, but found it difficult when faced with yet more proof that Nie Huaisang was avoiding him.

“Actually, since you two are so lovey-dovey,” Jiang Cheng said, “why don’t you propose to him already?”

Lan Xichen’s smile grew more tense.

“The other day at jiejie’s engagement party, Huaisang just wouldn’t shut up about what he’d want for his proposal, right?” Jiang Cheng went on. “That asshole is probably waiting for you to pop the question, because heaven forbid he take the first step for anything. So get proposing, and quick. If he’s planning his own wedding, he'll will be too busy to distract Wei Wuxian and maybe we can finally get to work for jiejie’s big day.”

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exchanged a glance. This time, even Nie Mingjue looked a little uncomfortable over how serious Jiang Cheng sounded. But Jiang Cheng, wrapped up in his concerns for his sister’s wedding, did not notice.

“I mean it, just keep him distracted,” he insisted. “If you do that, I’ll share my addresses with you. I’ve already found half a dozen great wedding locations, you can have any of the ones jiejie doesn’t pick and I’ll get you a discount, as long as Huaisang doesn't get Wei Wuxian in trouble.”

“Aren’t you a little too invested in this?” Nie Mingjue asked to change the topic. “Why are you planning your sister’s wedding for her?”

“Jiejie and the peacock would let their mothers run the whole thing and it’d be a disaster, a PR event instead of a wedding,” Jiang Cheng explained. “But if I’m in charge, mom thinks I’ll rethink getting married so she’s letting me do what I want… and what I want it what jiejie wants.”

“Ah, family,” Nie Mingue said with a laugh. “My grandmother is putting pressure on Huaisang and me, too. Almost all our cousins have kids, but apparently that’s no excuse, she needs more grand-kids so she can boast to the ladies of her knitting club.”

Jiang Cheng grumbled about elders who inferred with people’s lives, but was interrupted before he could start a full rant when he got a text telling him that his friends were waiting for him and he was late. He took his leave and all but ran across the street, where Lan Xichen spotted two people who looked suspiciously like Wen Qing and her little brother waiting for him.

After that interruption, Lan Xichen found it hard to find a new topic of conversation with Nie Mingjue. All he could think about was Nie Huaisang, and how upset he was with him for lying not just about his past with Meng Yao, but also about Wei Wuxian preventing him from coming him. And then there was the way Nie Huaisang continued acting as if he could predict Lan Xichen’s actions, even daring to give a date for the date Lan Xichen would have grown tired of having him in his life…

But Nie Huaisang was wrong.

He was wrong, and Lan Xichen wished he knew how to prove that he was nowhere as predictable as Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao had decided.

If he could just show them how wrong they were… but of course, planning surprises was not his strong suit. It had never been encouraged of him, and he couldn’t think of anything that might startle Nie Huaisang.

Unless…

“You know, maybe Jiang Cheng has the right idea,” Lan Xichen mused.

Nie Mingjue silently raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe I should propose to Huaisang. Just to surprise him.”

Unexpectedly, Nie Mingjue laughed.

“If you do that, I want to be there to see his face,” he demanded. “Damn, I have dad’s wedding ring, I can lend it to you to make it look more real.”

Lan Xichen threw him a surprised look, causing Nie Mingjue to laugh harder.

“That brat needs to be reminded that sometimes he can’t predict people’s reactions,” Nie Mingjue simply said. “It’s going to piss him off, but once he’s calmed down we’ll all have a good laugh about it together. And listen. You think you’re the only one annoyed because that brat thinks he knows people better than they know themselves? I’ve had to live with him for over twenty years. You can’t imagine how badly I want to see him be wrong. It’ll be fun. And if he doesn’t like it, he can always say no.”

“It’s always difficult for the person asked to say no,” Lan Xichen weakly objected. “Especially if the question is asked in public… I wouldn’t want to trap him…”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

“I think even you can’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do,” he said. “If you can, you have more power over him than dad and I ever did, in which case you definitely should take advantage of it and marry him.”

“You’d really help me?” Lan Xichen asked.

He’d only said that out of frustration, because he couldn’t think of anything else. Proposing as a prank felt wrong. It felt in bad taste. Something people did in very bad romantic comedies, not in real life. No real person could be stupid enough to do something like that.

Which was exactly why it might really work to surprise Huaisang. He would have thought of every likely possibilities, but not of something that insane.

And it would just be a joke, wouldn’t it? They were just friends, if even that. No feelings would be bruised, because Huaisang wasn’t in love with Lan Xichen, and because the way Lan Xichen felt…

He wasn’t quite sure how he felt, and did not want to consider it. It would have been stupid of him to feel more than friendship for Nie Huaisang, and it was easy enough to convince himself he wasn’t stupid.

“We’d need to get everything ready before he comes back from his trip with Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen said. “If he’s around, we’ll never manage to surprise him.”

“You can’t lie for shit,” Nie Mingjue agreed, “and I’m not much better. When is he coming back?”

“Friday night or Saturday morning, unless he changes plans again.”

“Then let’s invite everyone to your place Saturday afternoon for some drinks. We’ll tell them I have something to say. Huaisang is going to assume I’m getting a raise but I can't clean my flat in time to have people over. He won’t want to weasel out of anything good going on for me, we've got him trapped.”

Lan Xichen smiled, a true smile at last.

In the end they ordered a few more drinks as they continued planning that fake proposal.

And hopefully, Nie Huaisang would not be too mad at them for managing to surprise him.

[hisfavoritewolf]

Scars

Warnings: General harm, talking about abuse, whip lashes, scars, ptsd, implied past S/A

“You haven’t asked about them.” Fenris looked back at his partner. Moira Hawke, one of the few decent mages he’s encountered.

“The markings? I thought I had. You know, when we met? Not my best opening line.” She laughed.

He smiled softly, but it fell into a weary look. He shook his head, running his fingertips up his arm to his shoulder. He could feel where the skin grew back wrong. Scar tissue. They lay in lines across his back, broken by the lyrium that grew back over them.

“No,” he said, soft. “The scars. They’re... just as extensive as the lyrium.”

Moira took a moment, sitting up from where she’d been on the bed. She looked worried, which wasn’t the reaction he wanted. Then again, he didn’t know what he expected. He hadn’t meant to even say anything. He couldn’t help but talk about things with her, to tell her of his past. She made him feel lighter.

“I... I knew about the ritual, and that you were a slave. So, I figured...” She trailed off, not wanting to speak the awful truth. She could guess where most of them were from.

He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. “Most of them, yes...” He swallowed. Cleared his throat. He could never look at him when he spoke of his life. He could always see the hurt in her eyes, hurt on his behalf. He didn’t think he deserved that.

“Fenris?” Her tone softened. He could hear it. The pity. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to... But you might need to.”

Intelligent. That was one thing he loved about her. She was smart in ways he never could have fathomed achieving. He covered his face, sighing through his palms. He was trying to keep himself level, legible.

“It’s... I’ve been asked about them before,” He explained. “By less-than-ideal people. Well, I suppose Danarius was asked about them. He’d always say I was difficult to... train.” He adjusted himself again, wiped at the cold sweat on his forehead.

“I don’t know why I thought about them all of a sudden. Forgive me, I’ve been rather troubled.” He slicked his hair back and let the bangs fall back into place.

She knew better than to touch him, much less touch him when he couldn’t see her. Still, she reached her hand out. She caught herself, but it still made him flinch. His senses were so sharp it scared her, sometimes. She’d hate to have that turned on her, for him to lose it. For her to mess it up.

“You know you can always talk to me, love. I’m here for you. After everything that’s happened, I owe you one... Or ten.” She laughed quietly. Tried to lighten the mood. He appreciated the effort, and it was grounding him in a strange way.

“I know. It’s just hard to find the words, sometimes. So much has happened.” He took a shuddering breath and released it slowly. “It’s odd. Some of them are from Danarius, but more often than not? It was Hadriana. I suppose Danarius just liked making them special.” He shuddered, his fists clenched.

He could hear her shift, he could feel the anger coming from her. Somehow, it was comforting. He reached a hand behind him, searching for her. She obliged, carefully, and set her hand atop his.

His shoulders relaxed. “My feet are... The worst of them, I think. They were, ah, applied over time. Almost any time they had fully healed. They’d just start again. Until it no longer affected me.”

Moira was mortified. She knew they looked pretty bad, but she didn’t know why she didn’t question it before. Most elves walked barefoot, but from what she could tell they could still feel them. It made some things make sense. The way he constantly checked them, looking for any damage. He wouldn’t know, otherwise.

He continued. She gave him all the quiet she knew he needed. “The... violation I incurred... They effect me, still. Even the ones I don’t remember. For short moments I can see faces, but they’re lost before I can really see them.” He sighed. “I can’t tell if any of this makes sense. It hardly makes any sense to me, and I’m the one who was harmed.”

“It makes sense,” Moira reassured him. “You don’t need permission to feel whatever emotions you feel. No matter what anyone else tells you, you are free to feel.”

Free. Such a heavy word, such a heavy weight. He didn’t realize being free could feel so damning. In some ways he felt worse off than before. He tried not to think about that.

“Thank you.” Was all he said for a while. She wanted so badly to hold him, to tell him he was alright. That, however, would be a terrible idea.

“There’s so much. It all tangles together like so much rope. Twisted shackles.” He gripped her hand tighter. “Nausea, a pain in my jaw, the shadow of bars.” He strung words together as they came to him, a stream of consciousness from a dam only one woman could open.

He worried she would drown in his pain.

“I need... I need a moment. I’m sorry.” He stood and found his tunic, slipping it over his shoulders and closing the bottom three of the clasps. They hadn’t been doing much, simply basking in each other’s presence. He’d just go out onto one of the balconies.

She let him go. She knew when he needed to stop. She was going to help him process his life, one stream at a time.

[haymarketvtubestuff]

Harem comedy pitch redux

// Setting: high school. Co-ed but with gender-segregated dorms.

We meet Reon Hasegawa, an androgynous 2nd year who already has some sway in the school. We also meet Reon's best friend, Daiki Murata. Through a number of dialog-free scenes, we observe Reon having few, but close friends while helping the history teacher with various projects we aren't immediately clued in on. Daiki is observed in similar scenes trying to hit on his male classmates and rarely succeeding because of his being an awkward teenager.

We also have an establishing shot of Reon's locker being stuffed with love letters, wishes to confess, and so on. Reon is visibly frustrated. In a dialog with Daiki, Reon says almost quietly, "I need to do something about this." A pause. "Something ... final." The viewer, listening carefully, hears Reon use "ora" only after starting to say "wata-".

We then see a number of students congregating around a school wall, murmuring, and are then treated as to why - plastered on the wall are a large collection of confessional notes and professions of love with identifying marks hidden by a black marker. Written in large print over these notes reads:

IF YOU SEE YOUR LETTER, YOU KNOW WHERE I AM ON WEDNESDAYS. MEET ME THERE TOMORROW. I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING.

The next shot has ten girls of various years coming into a classroom, some visibly offended, others embarrassed, but all curious. From visual clues in prior establishing shots, we see it's the room for the history teacher Reon assists. We also get more context that was intentionally left out about the room's decor - pride flags, LGBT resource books, posters of encouragement for the students, and posters encouraging social justice. We see Reon and Daiki standing next to each other with the history teacher off to the side at his desk. After the girls quiet down from the initial confusion, Reon speaks up, giving off no clue as to what or how the news would be broken.

"Ladies, I (watashi) want to apologize for such a dramatic means of getting your attention, but it was also the best way to prevent your being mocked."

The general mood hasn't changed. Some girls are still upset - "What's the big idea doing it like this?" "Why here?" and so on. Reon signals for the girls to listen.

"Again, I'm sorry. But I needed to tell you all the same thing, so it was better I do it this way and all at once." The viewer is treated to a slight smile on Reon's face as the speech continues. "You see, there's two bits of information about me that might change your tune ..."

Daiki interrupts. "Just tell them, already." Daiki's tone is serious, which is rare for any of them to hear. Reon clears their throat.

"Girls, I have to turn down all of you for the simple reason that I'm straight."

The girls talk among themselves, confused, trying to interpret what that means. "Reon's a guy, right?" "Wouldn't that mean he likes girls if he's straight?"

Reon once again cuts in, quite loudly - "I like guys."

The din ends suddenly. The confusion is still on the faces of all but two girls - a 1st year art club regular, and a 3rd year who has the appearance of a delinquent. Slowly, the math is being added up by the girls, and the viewer can tell that Reon is about to make another comment when the delinquent speaks up.

"So ... what? You're trans or something?"

Reon is visibly annoyed to have her thunder stolen, but nods. She regains her calm demeanor . "Please allow me to properly introduce myself." The pause after his can literally be felt by viewer and character alike. "My school ID says one thing, but my name is Reina, and I use feminine pronouns."

Reina pauses, waiting for the worst, expecting it, even. But the silence is broken by the art club student.

"So you're saying I might have a chance."

The group looks straight at the student trying to understand what that meant.