#Use logic when taking tests

[takemyonlineclassus]

How to Ace Online Exams: Preparation Tips and Strategies

In recent years, online exams have become a standard part of the academic experience. Whether you're a student taking classes remotely or a professional pursuing online certifications, knowing how to effectively prepare for online exams is crucial. Here are some comprehensive tips and strategies to help you excel.

Understanding the Format

Before diving into your study material, it's essential to understand the format of your online exam. Different exams have varying formats, such as multiple-choice questions, essay-type answers, or practical assessments. Knowing what to expect will help you tailor your preparation accordingly.

Key Actions:

Review the exam guidelines provided by your instructor or exam body.

Familiarize yourself with the platform or software used for the exam.

Practice with any available sample questions or past papers.

Creating a Study Schedule

One of the most effective ways to prepare for online exams is to create a structured study sc Preparation For Online Exams hedule. A well-organized plan ensures that you cover all necessary topics and avoid last-minute cramming.

Steps to Create a Study Schedule:

Assess the syllabus: Break down the syllabus into manageable sections.

Allocate time: Dedicate specific times each day or week for studying different sections.

Set goals: Establish clear, achievable goals for each study session.

Include breaks: Ensure you incorporate regular breaks to avoid burnout.

Finding the Right Study Environment

A conducive study environment is crucial for effective preparation. Choose a quiet, comfortable space free from distractions where you can focus on your studies.

Tips for Creating a Study-Friendly Environment:

Find a quiet spot away from household noise.

Ensure your study area is well-lit and comfortable.

Keep all necessary materials within reach.

Inform family members or housemates of your study schedule to minimize interruptions.

Utilizing Online Resources

The internet is a treasure trove of educational resources. From lecture videos to online libraries, you have access to a vast array of materials that can aid your preparation for online exams.

Useful Online Resources:

MOOCs (Massive Open Online Courses): Platforms like Coursera, edX, and Khan Academy offer free courses on a wide range of subjects.

Educational YouTube Channels: Channels like CrashCourse and Khan Academy provide excellent video tutorials.

Online Libraries: Websites like Google Scholar and JSTOR offer access to academic papers and books.

Practice Makes Perfect

Practicing with sample questions and past papers is an excellent way to prepare for online exams. It helps you get familiar with the type of questions you might face and improves your time management skills.

Where to Find Practice Materials:

Your course website or learning management system (LMS) may provide sample questions.

Online forums and study groups often share past papers.

Educational websites offer quizzes and practice tests on various topics.

Staying Organized

Keeping your study materials and notes organized is essential for efficient preparation. Use folders, labels, and digital tools to keep everything in order.

Organizational Tips:

Digital Tools: Use apps like Evernote or OneNote to organize your notes.

Physical Tools: Use binders, folders, and labels to keep printed materials tidy.

Calendar Apps: Schedule your study sessions and exam dates in a digital calendar.

Taking Care of Your Health

Your physical and mental well-being play a significant role in your ability to prepare for exams. Make sure to maintain a healthy lifestyle during your study period.

Health Tips:

Sleep: Ensure you get enough sleep each night.

Diet: Eat a balanced diet rich in fruits, vegetables, and proteins.

Exercise: Incorporate regular physical activity to keep your mind and body fit.

Hydration: Drink plenty of water to stay hydrated.

Managing Exam Day Stress

Preparation for online exams also involves managing your stress levels, especially as the exam day approaches. Developing stress-management techniques can help you stay calm and focused.

Stress-Management Techniques:

Breathing Exercises: Practice deep breathing exercises to calm your nerves.

Mindfulness: Engage in mindfulness or meditation practices.

Positive Visualization: Visualize yourself succeeding in the exam.

Technical Preparations

Since the exam is online, ensure that your technical setup is ready and reliable. This includes your computer, internet connection, and any necessary software.

Technical Checklist:

Check Your Equipment: Ensure your computer, webcam, and microphone are functioning correctly.

Stable Internet Connection: Make sure you have a reliable internet connection.

Software Updates: Update your browser and any required software before the exam.

Backup Plan: Have a backup plan in case of technical difficulties, such as a secondary device or an alternative internet connection.

On the Day of the Exam

On the exam day, follow a routine that helps you stay calm and focused. Arrive at your study space early and ensure everything is set up correctly.

Exam Day Routine:

Early Start: Wake up early and have a healthy breakfast.

Final Review: Spend some time reviewing key points, but avoid cramming.

Set Up Early: Log in to the exam platform early to address any last-minute technical issues.

Stay Calm: Take deep breaths and stay calm as you begin the exam.

Conclusion

Preparation for online exams requires a combination of effective study techniques, a conducive environment, and proper time management. By following these tips and strategies, you can enhance your readiness and boost your confidence. Remember, consistent effort and a positive mindset are key to acing your online exams. Good luck!

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?

[cienie-isengardu]

Bi-Han & Kuai Liang and how they untied Kenshi

While making the last piece of my MK1 Behind the Scenes AU series, I was once again reminded about the similiarity between Bi-Han and Kuai Liang during Johnny Cage’s chapter. 

When Liu Kang ordered Bi-Han to free Kenshi, he did not use any blade but patiently worked on the knots to untie them. 

And yes, he has no knife on himself but he could easily form one with ice, not to mention freeze the rope and shatter it. But since this scene took place before Liu Kang’s burst of fire that ultimately convinced Johnny this is not some weird prank, the creators most likely decided to avoid using any supernatural elements. The big surprise needed to come from Fire Lord himself, which makes sense from the story's consequences of events. However in-universe, it made Bi-Han one of those people that would patiently work to untie knots rather than go with the easier way of cutting them (something I personally appreciate as I myself like to dissolve knots more than cutting through them).

But once Liu Kang’s burst of fire brought a change of the mood,

Kuai Liang when ordered to free Kenshi also didn't use the kunai to cut the ropes.

Which gives an interesting look at the brothers and their approach to fulfilling Fire Lord’s task. Here we need especially take into account that Scorpion was much more affected by Liu Kang’s show of power than his older brother - seen by the deep bow when Bi-Han barely showed remorse for the fight with Cage. Yet instead of using the kunai to free Kenshi as fast as possible as to not test further Liu Kang’s patience, the same as Bi-Han he choose to untie the ropes. Granted, Bi-Han most likely already did the most of the work, so Scorpion simply finished what was started but it still took him a while to free Kenshi.

This is a small detail, and one that does not play any bigger role in the grand schemes of things. However it helps to highlight how not so different brothers and their approach to task/problem is - especially at this early stage of game.

[crrnthyprfxtns]

The world is so so evil how is it I stay up the entire night unable to sleep and then I get hit with a wave of tiredness just before I have to go to class

[frailsituation]

Tips for writing plot twists

1. Start with a false sense of security

• The best plot twists work because the audience feels confident they know what’s coming.

• How? Lay down a trail of clues that mislead without outright lying. Create a sense of inevitability.

• Example: A detective follows all the evidence to one suspect, only for the real criminal to be someone they completely overlooked.

2. Plant the seeds early

• A plot twist is most satisfying when it feels inevitable in hindsight. Subtly sprinkle clues throughout the narrative.

• How? Use small, seemingly insignificant details that take on new meaning after the reveal.

• Example: A side character is always conveniently absent during key events—later revealed to be orchestrating everything.

3. Subvert expectations without betraying logic

• A twist should surprise readers, but it must feel plausible within the story’s framework.

• How? Flip assumptions in a way that feels earned. Avoid twists that rely on coincidences or break the rules of your world.

• Example: A character who appears harmless and incompetent is revealed as the mastermind, with subtle foreshadowing tying everything together.

4. Exploit emotional investment

• Twists land harder when they involve characters the audience deeply cares about. Use relationships and personal stakes to heighten the impact.

• How? Create twists that change how readers perceive the characters they thought they knew.

• Example: The protagonist’s mentor is revealed to be the antagonist, making the betrayal personal and devastating.

5. Use red herrings strategically

• Mislead readers by planting false clues that draw attention away from the real twist.

• How? Make the red herrings believable but not overly obvious. They should enhance, not distract from, the story.

• Example: A mysterious object everyone believes is cursed turns out to be completely irrelevant, shifting focus from the true danger.

6. Timing is everything

• Reveal the twist at the moment it has the most dramatic or emotional weight. Too early, and it loses impact. Too late, and it feels rushed.

• How? Build tension to a breaking point before the twist shatters expectations.

• Example: A twist that flips the climax—when the hero thinks they’ve won, they realize they’ve fallen into the villain’s trap.

7. Allow for multiple interpretations

• A great twist makes readers rethink the entire story, encouraging them to revisit earlier scenes with new understanding.

• How? Design the twist so that the story works both before and after the reveal.

• Example: A character’s cryptic dialogue is recontextualized after the twist, revealing their hidden motives.

8. Pair the twist with consequences

• A twist shouldn’t just shock—it should change the trajectory of the story. Make it matter.

• How? Show how the twist raises the stakes or deepens the conflict, forcing the characters to adapt.

• Example: After discovering the villain is their ally, the protagonist must choose between loyalty and justice.

9. Keep the reader guessing

• A single twist is good, but layered twists create an unforgettable story. Just don’t overdo it.

• How? Build twists that complement each other rather than competing for attention.

• Example: A twist reveals the villain’s plan, followed by a second twist that the hero anticipated it and set a counter-trap.

10. Test the twist

• Before finalizing your twist, ensure it holds up under scrutiny. Does it fit the story’s logic? Does it enhance the narrative?

• How? Ask yourself if the twist creates a moment of genuine surprise while respecting your audience’s intelligence.

• Example: A shocking but clever reveal that leaves readers satisfied rather than feeling tricked.

Follow for more!

[wirewitchviolet]

Sudokuvania: Digits of Despair is one of the most impressive works of pure game design I have ever seen.

Before I say anything else, I am going to be talking about a game that is VERY new and has pretty terrible search optimization, so in case this blog post somehow came up near the top of results for someone, here is the as-of-this-writing-current 1.02 release, and for good measure, here is the official FAQ page with the full version history, any future patches, and an FAQ for some of the more confusingly worded stuff that crops up later into the game. Now on with the praise-heaping!

So... Sudokuvania pretty much exactly what the name implies. It's a -vania, that is, a Metroidvania, and specifically one styled after one of the ones that's actually in the latter Castlevania series so that naming convention actually makes sense. Exploring a big castle, fighting bosses, getting various items letting you explore more areas, maybe breaking out of the borders of the map to find cool secrets here and there.

Also, it's a variant of sudoku. And I don't mean someone sat down with some videogame designing toolkit and made a videogame where some of the gameplay is solving logic puzzles on a grid you fill with numbers (I mean, I guess technically I do). I mean that link to the game I posted takes you to a website with a little built in standard app for solving sudoku puzzles and weird variations thereof, and the particular puzzle it's pointing to, somehow, manages to have a big map to explore, boss fights, special items that give you new powers, NPCs, and for good measure, fog of war. It is, again, an absolutely amazing hacky thing and I'm flabbergasted at how well executed it is. Now you're probably wondering how that even works, and that's why I'm writing this big gushy blog post. Here's what you see when you first load it up:

You're going to notice there is some absurdly small and kind of important text you can't possibly read, and that's because again, this is kind of a hacky thing this site so was not designed for. So it's kind of annoying but if you access this through the proper introduction page, it'll explain that the first thing you need to do is click the little gear icon in the floating tool palette, toggle on Visuals: Draw arrows above lines and Disable emoji replacement, then scroll all the way down to Experimental and turn on Test Large Puzzle UI. That enables you to zoom in and out with the scroll wheel, and right-click drag to pan around. It's... a little clunky because again, this website was NOT built for this, but tada, now you can zoom in, read the text, and start solving at a reasonable size. Then there's a couple gameplay concepts it does its best to explain, but... most people I've shown it to myself included needed extra explanation of a couple important early concepts. So let me just do a little color coding here to make this easier to get...

The map is not, in fact, one great big grid. It's 9 squares (and one rectangle that's not quite square over on the east side). Each of these is its own 9x9 Sudoku grid (well, the starting one is 6x6 and has those mutant 2x3 cells instead of the usual 3x3, and there's that weird eastern mutant). If you're solving stuff in one square, you completely ignore everything outside that square, except for where they overlap, in which case the numbers you're placing have to fit for both puzzles. So if we look at the light grey/green intersection on the left, those three overlap cells respectively can't be 4 6 or 5 (and whatever use you deduce in the grey box, but the pure green cells completely ignore all that, you're just focusing on the green 9x9 (which is going to have the overlap as a starting point, naturally).

The next bit that through me off a ton is the way fog of war works. Let me reasonably zoom in and do a little solving here. One second...

Here's the whole starting area all marked up to hell like you do when you're kinda bad at Sudoku and don't know how to spot a starting point. Penciling in little numbers in the corners. You'll also notice a that... most of the map is covered in this dark grey fog of war. A lot of in-game stuff mentions that you shouldn't go clicking out into the fog of war, because it'll show you names of later areas and preview certain special rules and all, but that's talking about clicking WAY off from what you can see. You are 100% allowed to solve stuff out in the fog of war, and it's pretty stingy about de-fogging. Don't go blindly guessing because then you can maybe end up sequence breaking but... yeah. Sorry I'm spoiling the Front Gate, it's basically the tutorial though. Anyway, first move is obvious, only one place we can put that 6, and suddenly...

Tada, important space so it rewarded us with a little fog clearing. You can also see that this will handily point out stuff in your pencil notes that can't be true, but only if A- it's untrue for standard sudoku reasons not special stuff, and B- it's not in the fog of war (or on the other side of some. You also maybe noticed that weird green thing under that first hint 6? That's something we need a tool for, you don't worry about it until you have that tool. Solving this out some more...

Little more de-fogging, both of the puzzle area and the margins where we're getting new information on playing the game in general. Now right here if you're observant, you'll see that bottom right corner has to be a 6. It's out in the fog of war, but you can mark it if you know what it is. And...

I was cropping it out before but the big purple number pad is always floating off to the side there, and the green text box over it, which among other things has an area name and flavor text for whatever grid you're in. This won't ALWAYS happen when you place numbers in fog of war, but there was a trigger on this 6 to load in a little piece of the first real area, and oh hey, we unlocked "Guide THERMO!" That's our first tool, and it's described up in the upper left.

So tada, from here out in addition to standard sudoku stuff, you've got these "bronze Guide THERMOs" that show up here and there and have this extra rule. You basically never get free numbers in the grid past the Front Gate, it's all slow-marching into new areas using what you're bringing in plus some easy starting examples of how your new tools work, plowing on from there. The fog of war is pretty stingy but it keeps you focused. You'll also notice the rules here mention bosses, all the 9x9 ones have one. It's clearly marked, and you should PROBABLY expose it from the fog first, but any time you're in the area really you, if you scroll around in that green text box or hit the rules button when in a grid, there's a link you can click to go fight it. The boss fights are all separate puzzles (site's good about auto-saving so don't freak out if it takes over your tab and you have to hit back after). These are very themey, sometimes VERY evil (especially boss #1, feels a bit overtuned) self-contained 9x9 puzzles, probably using the same tools their area is themed around, and I don't think there's a single pre-placed number in any of them. Beat the boss puzzle, it gives you some flavor text and a number to place in its cell back in the main castle puzzle, plug that in and you're always going to unlock something cool. Usually a new item, sometimes other weird stuff, and it just goes on like that.

Don't expect to be able to fully solve a given grid in one go. It's a Metroidvania, backtracking is expected. Even if you've fully de-fogged a grid, later stuff might reward you by straight up adding new symbols you couldn't see before or doing weird stuff with fog. It IS all solvable with pure logic... but there ARE a few places that do that thing I hate in tougher sudokus where you just kinda have to pencil in in a different faction and explore 2 possible futures for a bit to see which eventually contradicts itself. And of course the last couple of grids do some really evil mind-bendy stuff.

But yeah aside from a couple gripes where the way a tool works could maybe be a lot more grammatically clear, that first boss being a lot to deal with as you're first getting your feet wet, and a particularly cruel twist later on, I don't really have any complaints. Well, it might need a cool soundtrack. Maybe play some Castlevania music. Maybe switch it up for some real proper boss music when you're nearing victory.

Again I am just completely blown away that someone made something so meaty in a standard sudoku site's normal UI, and really managed to make it feel so much like playing a DS Castlevania. Some real proof of game design being an art form here. And now you too can just completely lose a day or two to it!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I feel really cheated by the Logic class I took in college. The subject was objectively fascinating and the textbook was actually interesting to read all on its own, which is the only reason I learned anything at all about rhetoric because the professor would get on stage and ramble for three hours about nothing.

Also when I related this to my wife they asked if it was taught in an auditorium and to this I clarify, no. It was a tiny classroom of twenty students who just sat there while this sixty year old white dude waxed poetic about how women’s reproductive rights were going to be terminated by the Russian regime. This was back in 2013 so he wasn’t entirely wrong I guess but I’d rather have learned Logic.

He tested us verbatim from the text book and never once touched on those topics in his lectures. It goes without saying he had tenure.

Because I learned nothing in class I’d often skip his insane rants. This was fine because he used the same attendance sheet all week long so as long as I was there Monday and Friday I didn’t get docked attendance. He did once issue a vague warning that those of us taking advantage of his system were only hurting ourselves before continuing to reminisce about the time he visited Amsterdam.

I also saw him sometimes outside of class.

When he came into the sex shop.

To buy poppers.

Which is how I learned my insane Logic professor was a gay dude who would troll the local gay bar and take home guys half his age. My coworker had seen him do this on numerous occasions.

When I rang him up I said, “Hi Professor.”

He was not even a little fussed to see me behind the counter and greeted me by name. I rang up his poppers, and later got an A in his class. I earned it, don’t worry. Aside from attendance I got 100’s on every quiz.

But I still think about what I could’ve learned if my professor hadn’t been a tenured gay dude whose only desire to screw dudes half his age.

[manifestingitgurlll]

how to make the ego submit.

i'm sure all of us have been in this situation at least once:

you're manifesting something. you decide, feeling 100% fulfilled, knowing nothing could go wrong. but then you hear the thoughts.

the loud negative thoughts screaming "you're wrong!! you don't have it. you're lying to yourself. it's impossible." people tell you to just ignore it, but how can you when it's SO loud that it's taking over your mind?

this is the ego. the ego thinks logically and relies on its senses. it believes that because it doesn't see it, then it isn't real.

but you are NOT the ego! you are consciousness. meaning those thoughts and feeling aren't yours. they have nothing to do with you. so you don't identify with it. you dismiss it. but how do you do that when its so overbearing?

how do you make it submit?

you just have to beat it at it's own game.

like i said, the ego thinks logically. so all you have to do, is beat it with logic. watch how it can't come up with a response. watch how it submits.

(now you, consciousness, don't believe in logic. logic doesn't even exist to you. but it doesn't mean you can't use it against the ego 🙃)

let's go through some examples:

say you have a test today but you decide it's postponed. immediately, your ego screams "no its not! don't you see what the teacher said? it's today!! it's too late for it to change." but you stay calm. you dont let that affect you.

you reply, "what if they get sick and have to cancel?" it thinks. but what can it say? it responds,"oh...you're right...that is a possibility i guess." see how it can't argue with you?

heres another one. your sp is dating someone else, but you decide they love you instead. again, your ego yells "no they don't! why are you lying to yourself? they're literally dating someone else." do you spiral? no. you know that's not true.

you go, "what if he's just trying to find the right time to break up?" the ego thinks again. no rebuttal. it accepts, saying "hm..i didn't think of that...that could be true."

last one. you have brown hair, but you decide you have blonde hair. of course, your ego cries out "no you don't! you obviously have brown hair, look in the mirror. see? brown. you can't have blonde hair, it's impossible." hearing this, you don't falter. you don't break down.

you persist and respond, "what if the brown hair was hair dye? and i just forgot?" it thinks, trying to grasp for straws. but it can't find any. it eventually gives up, thinking ""well...i guess that makes sense..maybe it is real."

SEE? the ego has no rebuttal !! because HOW can it rebut logic, the very thing it follows?? it can't.

it can't respond. it can't argue. it can't fight.

all it can do is submit.

(and don't use this as a crutch!! you shouldn't be going back and forth with ur ego, its not real, don't give it all that attention. this is just for the people who feel very obsessive at first. no matter how much you ignore, you feel like it won't go away. use this, watch it submit, then leave it. ignore and dismiss it.)

[acphengene]

String of fate

₊ ⁺ pairing: Niki x reader

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.2k

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, fluff, angst, brotherly love

₊ ⁺ note: it’s fucking finally here. i like them, they’re cute. also can you tell i’m Jayki biased?

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺ Masterlist

Niki was a dancer first, and a person second. Anyone who knew him, knew that. He moved like water and learned choreo faster than any other dancer under Hybe.

But he was also a brother, a good friend, and most importantly a hopeless romantic.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he was. The little red string that was wrapped on his left pinky, was the one thing that would one day give him his fairytale ending.

He had been so excited about it since he woke up with it on his thirteenth birthday. He just never really talked that much about it.

The thread was tight and always stretched towards the horizon, a clear indication that you were nowhere near him. But he had always wondered just how he would find you.

Everything became a little easier when he debuted. Being in Enhypen meant a lot of travels and tours, and different ways for him to figure out just where you were.

Niki made sure that the string was nearly tucked away in his pocket whenever it started to get loose, a little scared that it might end up being flossed or even break if it came into contact with the floor too much.

Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but still he liked to know he kept it safe, just in case. Taking care of that bond that connected the two of you, couldn’t be the worst thing.

To his older brothers Niki had a very casual outlook on the soulmate bonds, an attitude that said: “it happens when it happens”. But when he was the last one standing without a soulmate by his side, he became a little more desperate than he had previously been.

“Can’t we just take a trip, you know to somewhere we haven’t been before?” He asked Jay that we’re currently testing out a new guitar.

His hyung smiled at him. “What happens to my cool and collected baby bro?”

Niki sighed. “He died” and sent the older one a teasing smile.

“You’re the one who has always said that it happens when it happens. And look at all of us, you weren’t wrong. It’s your turn to be patient now.”

He avoided Jay’s eye contact, as he kept playing the same note on a keyboard that stood in the room before him.

“Easy for you to say with G on your arm every day” Niki answered as he rolled his eyes.

Jay just chucked. “Come, let’s go make some curry and distract that mind of yours”

He followed along, but not before giving the thread a pull, a little reminder that he was thinking of you.

You loved the little red string, and red had quickly become your favorite color. What you didn’t understand was your soulmate's inability to stand still.

Almost every hour of every day, he was jumping around like a flea. The string was constantly bouncing or moving from side to side, often in the same movements over and over again.

It had left you wondering just what he was up to each and every day. You knew your own moved around a lot too, dancing would do that. But did he even notice how much he moved himself?

Of course ballet was much slower movements and much more elegant than whatever he was doing.

But you guessed whatever he was up to made him happy, he had after all been doing it since the very first day, and happiness was important.

Every now and then you would feel a tug on the string, and you knew he was thinking of you. It always warms your heart.

Another day, another tour stop. Niki was excited, the string had never been as loose as when he excited the airplane.

If it hadn't been for Sunghoons birthday gift last year he would have his arms filled with the red string at that moment. Hell he might even end up tripping over it.

His soulmate-less brother had always been the best at giving both advice and gifts that were soulmate related, and that year Niki had gotten a little compas looking thing that when attached to the string, railed it into it's compartment and kept it safe. It was one of the most precious gifts he had ever gotten.

“You think she’s here?” He asked his older brothers with hope in his eyes. Some shrugged, others nodded, but Heeseung just pulled him down to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Let’s find out shall we?”

It was still early in the morning, and he was just lounging around until it made sense for them to do their first sound check and overall runthrough of the choreo.

And as the clock struck ten, the string started to move. A tiny bit to the left, then to the right. You were so close now that he for the first time could see how you were moving through the city. Unlike the very subtle movements of your hand movements he had gotten used to, this looked different, it even felt different.

It distracted him. He forgot everything from lyrics to moves as the hours progressed, earning him a lot of teasing comments from his members.

At some point he buried his head in his hands and groaned. “I don’t know if I can do this guys” he said with an apologetic look.

Sunoo laughed. “You obviously can’t, but I’m surprised you have lasted this long”

Niki smiled. “Yeah, me too”

“Just go,” Jungwon said with a smile. “Find her and bring her to the hotel for dinner”

The youngest nodded enthusiastically, before he all but ran off stage. He didn’t make it far before he heard someone call after him.

“I’m not letting you roam a new city all by yourself” Jay said with a smile before grabbing Nikis shoulders and giving them a loving rub.

The two of them got one of their managers to drive them until the string led them through small passages in the city. Then they took the rest of the journey on foot.

The city in and of itself was beautiful, with old cathedrals, brick sidewalks and cozy cafes on almost every corner, and a quick coffee run later the two had returned to their adventure.

Niki was quiet, more than he usually was, but who could blame him? His palms were sweaty and his eyes never left that red string that twisted around corners. He wondered if you had walked the same streets at some point.

Jay looked at his youngest brother with admiration, as he tried to let him just be, to live this moment.

The string took them to an open plaza in the middle of the city, and before them laid one of the few buildings in the world that were still home to a royal ballet. And the string went straight through its doors.

“Shit…” Jay said under his breath.

“Fuck” Niki ecchoed.

Getting to the building was one thing, the easiest step on their path it seemed. But getting in there, behind the scenes? That would be as close to impossible.

On any given day you would’ve paid more attention to your end of the string. But today wasn’t any normal day, no you were on the night of your career. Prima ballerina for this years ‘Swan Lake’ was your new title.

Everything had led up to this, this was what you had worked for your entire life, what you had ruined your muscles and feet for, and nothing, not even the new movements of your string, could take your eyes off that price.

The day was a constant stress of rehearsals, fittings, ice baths and fittings. Your heart was beating so hard that you could feel the pulse in your entire body.

When you finally sat down in the hair and make up you gave the string a little pull. It was as tight as it had always been, and you couldn’t help that little ping of hurt that he, whoever he was, wasn’t there to see this moment and to be your loudest cheerleader in the crowd.

Niki felt defeated, normally the little tug would make it all better, but how could he get into a show that had been sold out for months?

Jay had managed to score tickets to every performance that night except one, and as absolutely amazing as the two performances had been that night, you hadn’t been there.

“I’m so sorry” Jay said with an apologetic smile as he watched Niki once again moved his last piece of ravioli around on his plate as he was lost in thought.

He only shrugged. “It is what it is” he gave him a halfhearted smile. “At least these performances have given me a few ideas for some new choreography?” It sounded more like a question than anything else.

“Yeah, that is kind of a silver lining”

He lowered his head and kept it down, and all Jay could do was sit idly by as he watched his youngest break down in front of him.

It was a rare sight to see Niki cry, he put on a hard facade, something he had done these last few years, a trauma response they had all figured.

He moved to the booth and pulled him into a tight hug. “I know,” he whispered. And that little reassurance opened the floodgates.

Niki was grateful they were hidden away from all eyes in the back of the restaurant. That no one was near to witness this, the fact that Jay saw him like this was embarrassing enough.

He pulled away with an apology as he dried his eyes.

“Don’t ever apologize to me for having feelings that are so big you need to express them. I will forever be a safe place for you to do that”

Niki saw how sincere he was and he only nodded as yet another tear escaped his left eye.

A commotion in the restaurant was the next thing the pair heard, and suddenly their manager came rushing towards them.

“I got them!” He screamed. “I got them but we need to go now! It starts in 5 minutes!”

Fuck. This was it. And he had never in his entire life, moved faster than he did just then.

He moved up the stairs with a fast pace, rushing towards the top floor where his seat was located. He didn’t wait to figure out if the others could keep up, that didn’t matter. You were the only thing on his mind.

This had to be it, you had to be a part of this production, there was no other way. He had prepared himself to stand outside in the snow all night if that was what it took. But this did seem like a better alternative.

He wondered what your role was, were you someone behind the scenes, or were you like him, a performer?

The balcony had a perfect view of the entire stage, and when the string led straight behind the curtain, he knew this was it.

His legs were bouncing, he was fidgeting with every ring on his fingers. He didn’t care that his baggy jeans or his hoodie made him stand out like a sore thumb between the fancy gowns and suits.

Jay laid a hand on his thigh. “Breathe” and he tried, but it was as if all of the oxygen had left the room.

“She’s here hyung, she’s right here. I just know she is”

“And so are we”

Their eyes met. “Is this really happening?” He asked.

Jay smiled. “Yeah, it really is”

“You’re sure this isn’t a dream?” He asked as he once again looked to the red curtains.

Jay laughed. “Dreams are my mark, not yours. So yeah I’m pretty sure”

The smile that painted his lips were from pure happiness, and he looked like a tiny sun, radiating in this somewhat dark room.

And just then the lights flickered three times, an indication that the show was about to begin.

All Niki could do now was hope that he wouldn’t pass out.

As the curtains rose a calmness came over you, the world around you disappeared, and your feet started to move on their own accord as they always had.

You were home now, and you wondered if you would ever be more happy than you were in that exact moment.

He saw you, and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There was no one in this world that could tear his eyes from you.

He knew in his heart he looked like a star struck idiot, but he couldn’t care less.

Your elegance was unmatched and the way you moved proved to him that the universe had done him a favor. You were the other half of his soul, one he had lost before he even came into this world, the one thing he had searched for his entire life, the one person he would search for in every life after this one.

A dancer, of course you were, he thought. Who else would be able to understand his love for being on stage, other than one who shared that passion?

He knew it was opening night for this year's season which meant that he experienced this moment with you in real time. He was so proud despite not even knowing your name yet.

Before he knew it the curtains once again closed and the show was officially over. The cast stepped out when they opened once again and your smile was so big as you looked at your partner it literally took his breath away, it was as if he froze in time.

As you bowed he once again gained consciousness and he clapped and cheered louder than anyone there. He reached out and pulled on that string as hard as he could.

He watched as you took a small stumble, he watched as you reached out to grab it, and as you followed it, it let your eyes straight to him.

God he was beautiful, dressed in black and grey, messy hair and tear stained cheeks, but he didn’t seem to mind. The two of you watched each other for a second, and then you both watched as the string that connected you, transformed from crimson red to the most dazzeling gold.

He was still clapping when your tears started rolling down your cheeks and you once again took a bow, deeper this time, more grateful.

Niki had sent Jay back to the hotel after he had been approached by one of the security guard of the theater. Telling him that you would be out as soon as possible.

He had decided to go outside to hopefully calm his blazing hot cheek.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that he had actually found you. That he had listened to himself and it had been worth it.

The snow had started again and the darkness that surrounded it was only lit up by the old streetlights. He stood there, looking over the plaza as he wondered just what he wanted to say to you.

He didn’t have Jake’s mark, but he wanted it to be something meaningful, something you could be proud of.

Behind him he heard a door close and he turned in one smooth movement, as if quick turns on his heels were second nature to him. Who was he? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood on the top of the stairs looking down on him. Looking at that gold string, so you hadn’t imagined it.

Niki took a step forward and almost instinctively reached out for you.

He was calm, and you most definitely weren’t. You made a small jump and let out a small scream before you rushed down the steps to him.

He laughed, loudly, and the sound bounced around on the buildings, echoing it back to the two of you as if it was your own little song.

As you were almost by the foot of the stairs he opened his arms to you, and you leaped the last few steps. Throwing yourself into his arms.

He caught you, as he always would, and held you tight. Spinning you around as you both laughed.

He smelled amazing, felt amazing. He was tall, messy haired and you could feel his heart beating beneath that big puffer coat.

“I found you” he said as he finally pulled his face from the crook of your neck.

The two of you looked at each others with smiles so big that they hurt your cheeks more than the cold.

“You certainly did, and perfect timing I might say” You answered as he returned you to the ground. He kept his arms around your waist though. You didn’t mind.

“I barely made it, who would’ve thought I’d end up having such a talented soulmate that sell out her first show months in advance?”

You felt the blush paint your cheek as you looked away from him. “Don’t be embarrassed, you should be proud. It’s such an amazing achievement”

He couldn’t help himself as he brought his hand to your cheek and forced your eyes back to his.

“What about you, what is it that you do since you’re suddenly here?” You slithered out of his grip and instead interlinked your pinky with his.

He smiled at the gesture, and he quickly knew this would be how he held your hand for as long as you allowed it. Together you walked down the street enjoying the cold and finally each other.

Niki chuckled. “Eh… I’m in a similar industry” he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t expect that he would be this nervous actually talking to you, opening up. But he was scared all of the sudden, scared that anything he could say would want you to leave him behind.

You raised a brow at him, but didn’t push the subject, you were observing, letting him take his time.

“Do you know kpop?” he asked as he kicked some of the snow that lay on the road.

“I do”

“Well, I’m an idol… And are kind of here for a tour” he stopped in his tracks and watched you smile up at him.

“So a singer and a dancer then? You’re making me look bad”

He chuckled, as he felt the weight fall from his shoulders. "I don't think that is possible"

"What kind of dance?" You asked, and he couldn't help himself so he spun you around.

Niki watched as your body reacted by pure instinct, how you stepped up on your toes, even in your sneakers, how your leg lifted off the ground.

"Well definitely not ballet"

The two of you laughed together.

"Want to dance with me?" He asked as you stopped beneath one of the lights.

"I will dance with you for as long as you'll have me" You said as he pulled you closer with a smirk.

"I promise you one thing red, I am never letting you go. You have a dance partner for life with me"

So you danced there in the somewhat silence of the city as the snow fell around you. Two dancers, one soul, brought together by nothing more than a red string of fate

₊ ⁺ taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this @elairah @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @garrdenwonie @whateveridontcaresheesh @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @spicxbnny @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @acopenhagenarmy @tunafishyfishylike

[depressed-freak13]

autistic eddie who has only dated steve.

theyve been dating for a few weeks before eddies mind starts to wander and think of what dating someone else would be like. but purely in a logical-scientific-i-must-test-this-hypothesis sense.

so he talks to steve and steve is so supportive. he says eddie should find someone safe to take on a date to test his theory.

the day comes where eddie takes daniel—danny—on a date. steve has a shift with robin at family video.

robin has been anxiously flitting about the store since their shifts began. shes been rambling non-stop about anything and everything—utter nonsense. robin just wants to keep steves mind off eddie being on a date with someone else.

she knows steve. she knows how quickly he falls in love and how close to the cusp of it he is with eddie.

if hes not already there yet.

eventually though, eventually, robins rambling works against her. she cant remember how she got here—talking about her hopeless love life and how shes destined to be alone forever.

but it pops out.

“—just want something like you and eddie.”

silence.

robin stops breathing.

she did that. she totally did that. she cant believe she did that.

steve doesnt say anything. robins back is to him so she cant see his face. she cant see how massively she fucked up.

robin is determined to live her life standing in this family video with her back to steve so she can never see his reaction and never know how she just broke his heart—oh my god shes a terrible best friend—

a noise interrupts her panic. a noise from steve. a noise that robin is familiar with.

robin whips around, nearly spinning in a complete circle with her speed.

—hes—hes—hes—guffawing?

robin doesnt know how else to describe it. steve is behind the family video counter, one hand splayed across the counter. the other hand is holding his stomach as he snort-laugh-coughs?-wheezes so hard robin swears she can feel the vibrations in the soles of her feet.

robin is over here—planning the end of her life because she thought she broke her soulmates heart.

and steve is—steve is—

steve has spent the last 8 months spending time with eddie. he sat by his hospital bed, keeping eddie company with his horrid jokes and stumbling through his first reading of the hobbit because

“stevie its my favorite”

steve drove eddie to his physical therapy appointments and cheered eddie on when the metalhead had good days. steve also embraced the silence and made sure to stop for a treat on the way home when eddie had a bad day.

when eddie was finished with physical therapy, steve learned all of the stretches and exercises that would help eddie maintain his strength and mobility. every day, without fail, steve would remind eddie to do the stretches and exercises the two of them learned. and on days when eddie adamantly refused—steve would use his harrington charm to either guilt or beg eddie into completing them.

even when steve wasnt spending time with eddie at the hospital or for doctors appointments—the two were always together. whether they were showing each other their favorite movies or eddie was forcing steve to expand his music knowledge or the two were sitting out at the quarry, smoking a joint from eddies personal stash—“its the good stuff steve. if we’re gonna be besties you gotta smoke the good stuff”—and gazing at the stars. they were always together.

the point is—the point is—steve has spent a lot of time with eddie. a lot of time where steve has come to see eddie for his likes and dislikes—and read how to see that on eddies face.

steve knows he doesnt have much going for him. hes not book smart, he doesnt have much of a career, hes not overly ambitious (and of course none of that makes him less—thanks eddie) but steve has always been people smart.

hes always had a knack for reading people. he can tell when someone is genuinely enjoying something versus when theyre faking it—even if theyre a really good actor.

and steve has spent a lot of time with eddie—as previously stated—which means steve can read eddie like he hand-wrote that book.

so steve can see that eddie has never been drawn to someone like hes been drawn to steve. even in the beginning, when they were just strangers who had saved the world together, steve saw how eddie reacted to him differently than anyone else. looking back on those moments now, steve recognizes the attraction—the fire—the love—that was lit in his chocolate eyes. steve has never seen eddie look at anyone else that way.

steve also saw how eddie nearly physically recoiled when danny picked him up.

—not that he meant to be there. he totally didnt mean to be there. happy accident. pure coincidence—

max had been asking steve to take her out to the diner—absolutely not begging, no matter what anyone said. it was just coincidence that he happened to do it on the same day and around the same time as eddies date with danny.

—okay so steve and max totally planned it and they were definitely peeking out the curtains of maxs trailer for a full hour before danny finally showed up—

but thats beside the point.

steve had seen danny get out of his car and knock on the trailer door. the door opened and eddie appeared and steve could not contain his snort.

steve didnt know what it was about danny.

his clothes

his smile

his smell

his face

but something about danny repelled eddie. steve saw eddies brow and eye twitch. a sure sign he was holding back from flinching away.

eddie was definitely not interested in danny.

for a second, steve thought about walking over and claiming eddie had outstanding plans with him and max. an easy escape for eddie.

but then steve thought for another second, and couldnt wait to hear about how bad of a time eddie had.

—of course, steve would absolutely step in if eddie was feelng uncomfortable or unsafe. but steve knew that eddie was able to handle himself, and might get frustrated if steve tried to step in. steve also knew that eddie desperately wanted to test his date theory, even at the expanse of himself.

so steve let eddie go on his date, and then steve went to the diner with max and came to work his shift with robin.

which is where he was now, struggling to breathe as he laughs at robins unnecessary panic and counting down the minutes until his shift ends and he can show up at the trailer, hear about eddies date theory, and snuggle up with his boyfriend.

[22ayla21]

Their Children, Their Treasures

How the men of Amphoreus spend time with their children.

Mydei is not the type to just sit and tell children how the world works. He shows them. He trains with his eldest son, but he doesn’t turn it into a tough workout — more of a game, testing his agility and reaction. He can throw him a wooden sword, forcing him to catch it, and then laughs when he proudly declares that he has become stronger. He takes his time with his daughter. Instead of combat training, he teaches her observation: he shows her how to read facial expressions, discern lies, understand when a person says one thing and means another.

Sometimes, when the night is quiet and the palace is asleep, Mydei takes the children for a walk. His son walks alongside him, trying not to show that he is a little nervous about the mysterious atmosphere. His daughter sits on his shoulders, clinging to his hair with her tiny hands. They walk, talk about something insignificant, look at the stars. For the children, this is an adventure, for him, a rare moment when he can simply enjoy their presence.

He has small rituals that are dear only to them. Every morning when he is home, he always plays with his daughter, letting her sit on his lap while he drinks his pomegranate juice. She chatters, sometimes incoherently, but he listens, answering in short phrases, because it is important for her to be heard. He has a special tradition with his eldest son - they arrange small competitions, who can tie a belt faster, who will be the first to notice something unusual around. These are not competitions in strength, but simply a test of attentiveness and ingenuity.

If one of the servants or courtiers looks at his children too appraisingly, he silently gives a look that makes the blood run cold. After that, no one dares to say anything unnecessary to the children. If a son comes to him with a question that is difficult to ask out loud, he never ridicules him. He does not say "you are still small", but calmly explains, because he knows that if not him, then someone else will give an answer, and it is not a fact that it is the right one. If his daughter gets tangled in ribbons or can't fasten her dress, he silently helps. His rough fingers can undo intricate knots with no less dexterity than they can handle a weapon.

The son has almost gotten used to the fact that his father rarely talks about his feelings. But he notices how he always puts his hand in front of him if someone comes too close, how he discreetly straightens his cloak, how he puts food in front of him first. And his daughter... She is his little princess, and he doesn't even try to hide it. He picks her up in his arms without saying a word if he sees that she is tired. If she plays with his hair or jewelry, he simply allows it silently. When she reaches out to him to take her, he never refuses. Mydei does not say loud words. But his children know that there is no one who will protect them more.

Silence at home? Not in their family. When Anaxa has free time, he organizes intellectual discussions, where each of his daughters tries to prove her point. Usually this develops into a heated argument, and he, sitting with a cup of tea, calmly observes and only occasionally throws out provocative questions, forcing them to think even deeper.

"Theory without practice is meaningless," says Anaxa, and his daughters immediately find a reason to prove this in practice. "Scientific disasters" regularly occur in the house: self-igniting mixtures, strange bubbling solutions or a device that was supposed to make life easier, but almost destroyed the kitchen.

Anaxa comes up with logical riddles that his daughters must solve using reasoning. Sometimes he does this on purpose in everyday life: he hides things, leaves encrypted notes or deliberately draws false conclusions to see if they will notice the mistake. If the evening is quiet, he sits in a chair, his daughters on either side of him, each with her own book. The elder reads serious literature, the younger something more daring and provocative, and Anaxa just smirks, seeing how their reading tastes reflect their personalities.

Despite all their intellectual development, they remain a family. Sometimes Anaxa allows his daughters to braid his hair (even if he pretends that he is not interested), sometimes he himself makes things for them that seem completely unrelated to science - beautiful jewelry or unusual objects that carry a hidden meaning.

Anaxa rarely speaks openly about his feelings, but if his daughters face difficulties, he is always there. When they achieve success, he simply looks at them with a barely noticeable smile and says: "I had no doubt. After all, you are my daughters."

When his first son was a baby, Phainon still hoped that his child would be calm, obedient, and perhaps even gentle. He imagined reading to him, teaching him high ideals… But as soon as the baby learned to crawl, the house turned into an arena of chaos. And then came the second. And now Phainon has two little whirlwinds that run around, fight each other with toy swords, and turn everything upside down.

Phainon may be a hero, but when his two sons jump on him from the couch with battle cries, he sincerely wonders if it is his destiny they are trying to overthrow. They use him as a living arena, clinging to his arms, tugging at his hair, and demanding that he play battles with them, which he invariably loses.

Phainon still reads them ancient Amphoraean legends, hoping to instill nobility and greatness of spirit in them. He sits with a book, telling stories about great heroes... and his sons listen with bated breath. And then one of them suddenly asks:

"Dad, if you were an evil god, would you lose to us?" Phainon exhales heavily.

Although he would never admit it, Phainon loves to tidy up their tousled hair. When they are little, he gently combs it, sometimes combing it with his hands. Later, when they grow up, he continues to do it mechanically, and when his sons begin to complain, he only smiles with a note of melancholy that they are growing up too fast.

When his sons begin training, he becomes a strict mentor. He teaches them to take blows, to think strategically, not to waste their strength. But if one of them hurts another or behaves dishonestly, his gaze becomes icy, telling them that they must be strong not for the sake of destruction, but for the sake of protection. And they remember this for the rest of their lives.

Despite the chaos, he loves it when his sons, tired of playing, crawl to him and fall asleep next to him. At such moments, he carefully covers them with a blanket, looks at their faces and says with a slight smile, almost in a whisper: “But I wanted a daughter…” But there is no disappointment in his voice – only warm affection. Phainon is a father who wanted a little princess, but in the end got two little whirlwinds who make his life chaotic, but happy. And even if they turn the house upside down, he would never trade them for anything in this world.

[blairenqs]

୨୧ STORAGE ROOM SHENANIGANS ✧ SPENCER REID

───── IN WHICH you and spencer get carried away in the bau storage room and suffer the consequences !

𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖿!spencer 𝓍 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝟣.𝟤𝖪 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ♡ ⎯⎯ 𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝒾𝖵𝖤

THE BAU WAS A FAMILY, a family in the fires of late nights, depressing cases, and all trauma bonded for life—among that family, you and spencer reid were the youngest members.

from the minute you joined the team, it was clear you and spencer had an uncanny connection.

you were just as smart as he was—chatty with your knowledge, sharp with your logic, and often very prone to rambling about random facts. the team loved to tease you both for it, naming the two of you the “bau brainiacs” or, as morgan would call it, “unit of the nerds.”

it was all in good teasing of course, but little did they know there was far more to your relationship with spencer than banter and battles of who’s the smartest.

you and spencer have been secretly dating for months now—the bond between you grew naturally, beginning with long conversations about case theories and late night cups of coffee in the precincts.

the night it became official, you two had stayed up talking until the officers literally had kick the two of you out, and spencer had kissed you after walking you to your hotel room—softly, hesitantly, as if he were testing the waters. —READ MORE!

from that moment on, the two of you were quite literally inseparable—but you both agreed to keep it a secret from the team.

it wasn’t about fear of losing your jobs or professionalism—it was about keeping this one sacred thing just between you two. besides, watching the team try to “ship” you together, so completely unaware of the truth, was much too entertaining to pass up.

it was a quiet and uneventful day at the bau when hotch approached your desks.

“i need those old case files from the storage room,” he said, handing spencer a list. “it’s a long list, so you should both go. faster that way.”

spencer nodded. “got it.”

“be quick,” hotch added, although his tone was more amused than serious.

as soon as the elevator doors closed, you shot spencer a nervous look. “do you think hotch knows we’re dating?”

“i doubt it,” spencer replied, grinning. “i don’t think he would send the both of us alone to the storage room if he did..”

you let out a humoured giggle as the elevator dinged, and you followed spencer into the dark and eerie storage room.

it was a barely lit space with rows of wooden shelves and rows of filing cabinets. the buzzing of the creepy lights filled the room, adding to the already creepy atmosphere. “alright, let’s get started,” you suggested with a sigh, scanning the list. “you take a through m and i’ll handle n through z.”

spencer gave you a sarcastic salute and headed to the opposite side of the room—you were halfway through your section when spencer yelled out, “found the first batch!” you turned to see him holding a stack of folders, a teasing smile on his face. you couldn’t help but smile back.

“such a show off,” you joked, walking over to him.

“it actually wasn’t that hard,” he said, though his voice was tinged with pride. you rolled your eyes affectionately, stepping closer. “you’re so impossible, you know that?”

spencer’s smile softened, his doe eyes locking with yours. he had that look again—the one that made your heart flutter every time.

without thinking, you closed the distance between you and kissed him. it was gentle at first, his lips warm and soft against yours—but as his arms slid your waist and pulled you closer, the kiss deepened.

spencer kissed you as if he was memorizing every detail about you, his fingers tracing slow, tingly patterns along your back—your hands found their way into his hair, tugging gently, and he let out a quiet, almost desperate sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

the folders slammed onto the floor as he pushed you gently against the filing cabinet, his lips moving with more urgency. the cold metal pressed against your back, but the heat of spencer’s body made you forget everything else.

“spence,” you whispered against his lips, your voice breathless at this point. “hm?” he replied, not pulling back. his lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake.

“we should—” you gasped as he found a sensitive spot just below your ear. “—be working.”

“we are working, love—” he mumbled, his voice heavy and desperate. his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

your laughter faded as he kissed you again, slower and softer this time but the tensity still held. it was rare to see spencer so bold, so utterly lost in the moment, and it made your heart race.

and unfortunately, neither of you heard the door open.

“ahem.”

the sudden clearing of a throat made you both freeze—you turned your head slowly, dread pooling in your stomach, and found hotch standing by the doorway, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

spencer stepped back so quickly he nearly tripped over the discarded folders. his face was a deep shade of red, and he stammered, “hotch—i—we—uh—”

hotch held up a hand, silencing him. “i don’t need an explanation,” he said, though his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “i assume this has been going on for a while?”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “this is so embarrassing.”

“it’s fine,” hotch said, his tone gentle as he felt your embarrassment reflecting across the room. “i just hope you’ve both been keeping this out of the field.”

“yes sir,” spencer blurted, his voice higher than usual.

hotch nodded, his expression softening. “good. because the team already thinks you’re secretly married with children, and this will only confirm it.”

you ran your fingers through your hair, whining as you tugged in frustration, “they’re never going to let us live this down.”

“probably not,” hotch agreed, a rare smile breaking through. “but i think you can handle it.” he turned to leave, before saying one last thing, “don’t forget the files. and maybe try to keep the pda out of the storage room next time.”

the door clicked shut behind him, leaving you and spencer both stunned in silence. when you finally made it back to the bau office, morgan and garcia pounced onto you both immediately.

“what took you two so long?” morgan asked, his grin teasing and glowing on his face. “don’t tell me,” garcia said, holding up a hand to her mouth dramatically. “you got lost in the romantic atmosphere of the storage room!” you groaned, burying your face in spencer’s shoulder—done with everything at this point. he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you.

“something like that,” he said, a small smirk playing at his lips.

morgan’s jaw dropped. “wait—you two aren’t denying it?”

hotch’s voice cut through the chatter as he stepped out of his office. “leave them alone, morgan,” he said, his tone dry but amused. “they’ve had a long day.”

the team burst into laughter again, and you whined, “hotch, you’re supposed to be on our side!”

hotch just smiled faintly before retreating into his office, leaving you and spencer to endure the teasing—despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile. you had spencer by your side, and all the teasing in the world couldn’t ever ruin that feeling.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

© blairenqs 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

✧ 𝑓. can u tell i love this trope LOL 😭 spencer reid as my bf would solve all my life problems like somebody switch me to the criminal minds world plz 🧘‍♀️

𓂃ㅤ 𝓉𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ୨୧ @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @lcvealwayss @viennasolace ♡ thank you so much for joining !

[velvetseahorse]

Astrology observations and notes

- Mula natives can be intense in intimate relationships. Claire Nakti mentions them being energy vampires, a trait that I believe all Ketu nakshatras share. However, Mula individuals take this to an extreme—they deeply desire to consume their romantic partners or loved ones, often expressing love and affection in ways that can be violent or disturbing. For example, Mula ☽ native Amy Winehouse once carved “I love Blake” (referring to her then-boyfriend Blake Fielder-Civil) onto her stomach using a shard of glass during a photoshoot. Mula ☉ native Keith Richards snorted his own father’s ashes. He explained, “The truth of the matter is that after having Dad’s ashes in a black box for six years—because I really couldn’t bring myself to scatter him to the winds(…)when I took the lid off the box, a fine spray of his ashes blew out onto the table. I couldn’t just brush him off, so I wiped my finger over it and snorted the residue.”

- All three Pisces nakshatras (Purva Bhadrapada, Uttara Bhadrapada, and Revati) are late bloomers. This may be because Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac and is connected to the 12th house, which rules moksha and the dissolution of individual existence into the eternal flow of life. The ultimate purpose of the 12th house is spiritual liberation and freedom from samsara. Sidereal Pisces natives are often tested and placed in situations where they must lose aspects of themselves to gain wisdom and grow, which can delay the usual stages of development in their lives. Pisces is naturally detached from material matters and easily in tune with its divine essence. Similar to Ketu, Pisces is often associated with spirituality and higher wisdom. In fact, many Vedic texts suggest that Ketu co-rules Pisces, but I’ll explore that topic in another blog post. The 12th house represents confinement, the subconscious, loss, endings, isolation, delusion, unseen realms, and private emotions. It is a deeply spiritual and sensitive house where suffering is often hidden, but it also holds profound wisdom when approached with the right mindset. Pisces natives are highly sensitive, and when faced with harsh realities, they often cope by withdrawing from the world. They prefer to live in a reality of their own making—a gift they naturally possess. However, they cannot escape responsibility entirely, as life’s traumas frequently force them to reflect and grow. Pisces natives are natural observers rather than active participants, and you won’t often find them following societal trends. They tend to stay alone, forging their own unique path. As escapists at heart, Pisces struggles to make sense of things logically, often relying on emotions and intuition instead. This is why Mercury debilitates in Pisces. For Pisces, life feels like a ripple in water—vast, reflective, and abyssal like the ocean. Because of their tendency toward isolation, the mundanity of life can be deeply depressing for them. They may overthink, fall into maladaptive daydreaming, or become so lost in their imagination that they miss out on their own present lives and development. Once Pisces natives stop escaping and begin addressing their emotions in a healthy way—through spiritual practices or creative expression—they can unlock their full potential. Pisces is highly creative, with Venus exalting in this sign, emphasizing their natural gifts in art, music, and storytelling. Most Pisces natives feel a calling for something greater than an average life and often possess the talent to fulfill that calling. However, their main challenge lies in taking consistent steps toward their goals and overcoming their finicky, scattered tendencies.

- Ashwini natives are prone to addiction, self-medicating habits, and mental health challenges. Ashwini is a Ketu-ruled nakshatra, and Ketu, being the opposite of Rahu (the head), represents the headless body—detached from material desires and driven by the pursuit of spiritual liberation. This detachment creates disillusionment with the material world, leaving Ketu natives in their most raw, primal state, seeking the deeper truths and secrets of existence. Ketu’s influence is often compared to Mars because both planets help break through limitations, but their motivations differ. Mars is driven by ambition and devotion, while Ketu is fueled by detachment from material pursuits. This immense detachment makes Ashwini natives especially susceptible to addiction, often as a way to numb themselves or escape from overactive mental activity. Aries, the sign ruled by Ashwini, governs the head, and Ashwini as the first nakshatra carries the primal spark of energy and mental impulses. This nakshatra relates to mental activity, making its natives highly energetic but also restless and prone to overthinking. Their constant mental stimulation can lead to exhaustion, agitation, and self-destructive behaviors if not managed well. Ashwini natives have a natural intelligence and a desire to attain things quickly. However, this need for constant intellectual or physical stimulation can result in impulsive and reckless behavior when they are not moving or engaged in something meaningful. Ashwini is a restless nakshatra, and when placed in social environments requiring conformity, natives may struggle to fit in, often resorting to sarcasm and bluntness. Their detachment from societal norms, combined with their cosmic youthfulness and childlike nature (symbolized by their deities, the young twin horses), can make them appear rude or immature. Although Ashwini natives may try to behave in a “normal” or formal manner, this often leads to frustration due to their need for freedom and stimulation. Their childlike energy and cosmic vitality are best channeled into pursuits that allow them to move, grow, and explore.

- Venus in the 12th house is a beautiful but challenging placement. Natives with this position view romance, spirituality, or even life through rose-colored glasses. While this gives them a dreamy and idealistic perspective, it can also lead to disconnection from reality, resulting in disappointment and, often, depression. Venus is desires, romance, pleasure, and art. When placed in the deeply private and spiritual 12th house, these aspects become tied to one’s emotional and spiritual well-being. People with Venus in the 12th tend to keep their relationships very private, often out of fear of outside interference. The 12th house also rules hidden enemies, which can make these natives cautious about exposing their love life. They are unconditional lovers, often idealizing their partners to the extent that they may overlook toxic or unbalanced dynamics. It’s common for Venus in the 12th natives to love more intensely than their partners, which can lead to one-sided or non-secure relationships, such as secret affairs. These natives are often seduced by the idea of love in their minds, finding it difficult to accept the reality of their situation. This disconnection can lead to insecurity, particularly regarding their self-image. Physically, those with Venus in the 12th house are quite beautiful, but they may struggle to see or embrace their own beauty, feeling unworthy of love. Despite these challenges, Venus in the 12th house produces some of the most empathetic, self-sacrificial, and artistically gifted individuals. Venus is exalted in Pisces, the ruler of the 12th house, which enhances their creative potential. The 12th house governs hidden things, so natives may have hidden artistic talents that they should explore. They can create art that has a profound emotional and spiritual impact, capable of healing others and excel in surrealist forms of expression, romantic poetry, music, and visual mediums that convey unexplainable yet resonating emotions.

- Ashlesha and Uttara Bhadrapada bring to mind the effects of anesthesia. Ashlesha represents the beginning stages of anesthesia, with its Shakti—the power to inflict poison—a clinging and restrictive energy that feels paralyzing. This is akin to how anesthesia is injected into the nervous system, suppressing consciousness and inducing a detached, deep sleep-like state. Uttara Bhadrapada represents the culmination of this process, embodying the state of deep sleep. Its deity, Ahirbudhnya—the serpent of the depths—reflects the energy of stillness and dissociation of what’s above (reality/conciousness) , as well as the 12th house’s connection to sleep and the unconscious. Uttara Bhadrapada signifies the transcendental detachment from the physical body, much like the dissociative, dream-like state brought on by anesthesia. Ahirbudhnya’s symbolism as the serpent of the deep ocean mirrors the sensation of being submerged or taken into a controlled, deep state under anesthesia. Ashlesha’s clinging, paralyzing venom parallels Uttara Bhadrapada’s surrender and stillness, with both evoking states where the body is subdued or transcended. Ashlesha operates through the subconscious and instinctual nervous responses, while Uttara Bhadrapada focuses on spiritual transcendence. Anesthesia acts as a bridge between these realms, allowing the body to rest while bypassing conscious awareness.

- Pushya and Krittika natives can have features characterized by full lips, almond-shaped or wide-set eyes, which can also be rounded and downturned , or upturned and almond shaped typically deep-set. They tend to have very soft cheeks and overall gentle facial features, even among Krittika natives. Those born under the sheep yoni have soft, curly, or full hair. These natives dislike being alone and will often join others they can’t emotionally or socially relate to simply to avoid solitude. Krittika is in the ♉︎ and ♈︎ rashi, while Pushya is in ♋︎. Interestingly, Taurus exalts the Moon, and Krittika is the nakshatra where the Moon is exalted. Despite their planetary differences, both share similarities, including being associated with the goat/sheep yoni consort. Both Krittika and Pushya are nurturing by nature; however, Pushya leans toward giving, while Krittika tends to receive. There is a pure aura about them, as they are spiritually pure at their core and often sacrificial. For example, Joan of Arc, a Pushya ↑, led French armies based on divine visions she claimed to have, ultimately leading to her martyrdom by being burned at the stake—an example of these nakshatras embodying the archetype of sacrificial lambs. Krittika’s symbol is a blade, and the name itself means “one who cuts.” Its deity, Agni, the fire god, represents purification through fire, especially of the soul. Krittika women, in particular, can face disdain from both men and women due to their sovereign and independent nature. They are often misunderstood and may fall victim to others attempting to humble or overpower them.

Ebonee Davis - Pushya ↑ Halle Berry - Pushya ☽ Krittika ♈︎ ↑

Spike Fearn - Krittika ♈︎ ☽ Mick Jagger - Pushya ☉ krittika ♉︎ ☽

-Jyeshtha natives are known for being great writers, excelling in songwriting, literature, poetry, and rap. There are many notable poets, rappers, and songwriters with Jyeshtha placements, including Ottessa Moshfegh, Joan Didion, Bob Dylan, Emily Dickinson, Jim Morrison, Clarice Lispector, and Sonny Hall. Rappers like Nicki Minaj and JT, as well as singer-songwriters such as Sinead O’Connor and Tom Waits, also carry strong Jyeshtha energy. Jyeshtha is ruled by Mercury, which governs communication and expression through use of speech and writing. It also rules numbers and words and how we use them to problem-solve and convey ideas. Known as the “elder,” Jyeshtha’s deity is Indra, and Jyeshtha natives tend to excel because of their high standards, ambition and intuitive expertise in their craft. Relying in the ♏︎ rasi—a mysterious, transformative, intense, and passionate sign co-ruled by Mars and Ketu—Jyeshtha natives delve into themes of impersonal tragedy, exploring the darker aspects of the human psyche. Their writing is distinguished by their technique, style, and wordplay. Mars appears prominently in charts of many rappers through both signs (Aries and Scorpio) and nakshatras (Mrigashira, Chitra, and Dhanishta).

- Chitra nakshatra is quite similar to the Venus nakshatras in terms of behavior in my opinion. Chitra is all about refinement, creativity, beauty, and enjoying things that appeal to the senses. Although ruled by Mars, its connection to Venus (♎︎) and Mercury (♍︎) gives it a visually oriented and perfectionist nature, much like the Venus nakshatras, which are immensely creative. Both Chitra and Venus nakshatras share a tendency to push boundaries, sometimes indulging in taboo subjects. Venus nakshatras are known for their exclusivity, often socializing and collaborating only with other Venus nakshatra natives. Similarly, Chitra exhibits a form of discrimination by networking and associating only with those they deem worthy—often based on aesthetics or social status. Chitra natives are also highly judgmental, frequently offering unsolicited critiques because they cannot tolerate anything they perceive as imperfect. This mirrors the Venusian tendency to prioritize beauty and refinement above all else Especially because Venus (Shukra), the guru of demons and Chitra is demonic Rakshasa gana. there are, of course, key differences between Chitra and the Venus nakshatras.

- Saturn in the 4th house: The 4th house is one of the most private houses in astrology, ruled by Cancer, which is governed by the Moon (representing emotions). This house symbolizes our early home environment, upbringing, and especially our relationship with our mother. The mother is our first home (the womb) and nurtures us emotionally. How our parents teach us to regulate emotions is crucial for our emotional well-being. However, with Saturn in the 4th house—a restrictive and malefic planet—its energy clashes with Cancer’s nurturing qualities, as Saturn is in its detriment in this sign. Saturn represents coldness, self-limitation, underdogs/outcasts, effort, and karma. Natives with Saturn in the 4th house experience a difficult childhood, being forced to mature quickly and take on heavy responsibilities at a young age. They may feel disconnected from peers, unable to engage in carefree, childish behavior due to these responsibilities. This placement often indicates a mother who is emotionally distant or invalidating. These natives might have been told to “be strong” instead of expressing their emotions. In some cases, they may have served as their mother’s emotional crutch, catering to her emotional needs instead of receiving the nurturing they needed. Traumatic family events may linger, leaving them feeling tied to their family out of a sense of duty. For Saturn in the 4th house natives to thrive, they need to move away from their homeland or create physical distance from their family. Despite the hardships, individuals with this placement tend to develop deep empathy, a strong sense of responsibility, and profound wisdom. However, they are prone to anxiety and mood disorders, making it crucial for them to seek therapy, learn emotional regulation, and to give themselves a break and allow themselves love by building a supportive community that provides comfort and belonging.

- Jupiter in the 5th House: The 5th house is an important and auspicious house in astrology, representing past karmas and influencing one’s life journey. Creation is a central theme of the 5th house, whether through children, art, intellect, or ideas. With Jupiter placed here, this becomes a highly favorable position. Jupiter, known as Guru, is an expansive planet that represents luck, joy, knowledge and abundance. It thrives on self-improvement through activities like reading, studying, meditation, and creative pursuits such as music or painting. Natives with Jupiter in the 5th house feel an innate optimism about education, creativity, and spirituality. They approach learning and creating with a sense of childlike curiosity and openness, allowing them to absorb knowledge and express their creativity with purity and innocence. This mindset helps them flourish in these areas. Because the 5th house also rules children, individuals with this placement have a growth-oriented relationships with children. They may naturally take on roles as teachers, mentors, or guides, and children are likely to be drawn to them easily. Their own children will be blessed as well. However, this positive energy is best expressed when the 5th house is free from malefic influences or harmful conjunctions to Jupiter. Without such hindrances, Jupiter’s energy shines brightly, encouraging intellectual and spiritual growth. It’s important for those with Jupiter in the 5th to remain mindful of their potential naivety. While optimism and generosity are key strengths, they must remember that actions still carry consequences. Overindulgence or excessive reliance on luck can negatively affect their karmic balance. To truly thrive, these natives should strive to give as much as they receive, ensuring that their abundance benefits not just themselves but others as well.

*All these notes are just based off my own personal observations and readings. It may not resonate everyone with these placements

[mercurial-chuckles]

I met them, and now I’m their queen!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes | Stucky x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Language | Hot supersoldiers alert | Clingy supersoldiers | We've got game supersoldiers | Protective and borderline obsessive | Wet thoughts | Allusions to hot nights | Slight angst but happy ending | Confession | Friends to Lovers trope | Poly relation | Long one ~5k | Written in a feverish haze. Any, I mean, any craziness can and will be blamed on deliriously Nyquiled-mind! Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: It really started with, "Let's write a drabble," and well, IT DID NOT end up being a drabble! But blame the two hot super soldier specimens for taking reins and striding through dominantly. This was supposed to be published (along with three other fics) on New Year's, but times have been testing! Anyhoo, Sydney and I—ever indulgently—worked ourselves up with some ideas and this burgeoned, and we both decided to collaborate having similar title and prompt. Inspiration: — confession to get it off their chest before the new year starts Read Sydney's I met them, and now I'm their princess and smother her story with love and affection! Forever grateful to Sydney for giving me the push to publish this and for giving this long-ass fic a read while I was sick and whiny! @buck-star Also, if there are any Windows 11 users, do you know an easy way of typing the em dash (Alt+0151 is no longer an option) Every time I have to use, I have to copy and paste and it's been a pain in my butt. So, any shortcuts would be a great help! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! Banner credits to me. Picture credits to internet! Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist

Indulge Away!

'Have you been Naughty or Nice?'

I've been disastrous. You thought, snorting, looking at the quite colorful, only-for-adult-eyes kind of a poster.

While walking briskly to the truck in the parking lot, your eyes inadvertently fell on the shirtless guy with a Santa hat and red trousers posing sultrily. The show had been for Christmas Eve, now nearly a week old. Lucky patrons!

And your useless, absolutely horny mind brought images of two rugged, burly-looking muscular supersoldiers adorning the costume, and you shuddered.

Nope. No. No. Do not go there.

*Thud*

The distant sound startled you, and you looked down the deserted street but found nothing. You became aware of your surroundings and realized you were standing before a shady-looking strip club. Heart pounding, you hurried toward the truck you'd parked at the end of the street.

The local hill town was vastly different from NYC. By 8 p.m., the main street was completely vacant; the local stores were all closed for the night except for the convenience store at the gas station on the end of the main street and a local vet hospital, both of which you paid a visit tonight.

You quickly got into the truck and navigated out of the small town towards your temporary abode, decked in the woods near the lake.

It was New Year's Eve, and the entire day's theme was a series of unfortunate events and bad decisions.

Earlier that afternoon, having used up all the leftovers, takeouts, and groceries, you decided to venture out to find food. You cursed yourself for being so pathetic and unplanned. It was a hard bet you'd find a store open today or tomorrow.

You should have planned better, but it was what it was, and your poor mind couldn't possibly think logically when it was going through so much. So, forgiving yourself, you decided to drive to the town, hoping to get something to stock up the tiny kitchen for the next couple of days before you can go grocery shopping like a responsible adult.

But lo and behold, you had a flat tire. After groaning and cursing at your fate for a whole three minutes, you realize your aunt mentioned that you could take her truck around if it's still working.

You grabbed the keys and went to the garage. The truck seemed in good condition, with no flat tires. GREAT! You tried to start, but it won't budge. The check engine light blinked red.

Upon further inspection, you realized the spark plug was out and saw a pair of them in a cabby on the metal rack. You weighed your options, changing the spark plug in a somewhat cold and dim-lit garage or changing a tire in the chill out in the dark. It was an easy choice.

So, for the next two hours, you replaced the spark plug. Huffing and out of breath, you started the engine, which purred to your satisfaction. Feeling accomplished, you went to the only open convenience store and stocked up on some groceries. Fiona, the cashier, was a middle-aged lady who didn't talk much, unlike the other folks in the town.

When you went to pay, you realized you had left your phone. You must have left it in the cabin when you went to search for the truck keys.

Ugh! Sometimes, you hated that you remembered directions. It made you less dependent on your phone. Luckily, you had your wallet on you.  

After bidding bye to Fiona, you loaded the two brown bags into the truck. It was then you heard the yowling and the hisses. You saw the small white kitten by the lamppost in the parking. It looked like an Angora. She hurt her leg and was profusely bleeding. Your heart tugged painfully.

You unzipped your coat slightly and carefully lifted her up. She clutched at your shirt, meowing. You rushed to the convenience store inside, scaring sweet Fiona almost to death. You explained about the kitten, and she gave directions to the vet. She even called, telling them you would be coming with an injured cat.

So, you thanked her and decided to walk since it was not far, and the poor kitty seemed far too comfortable in your arms. As soon as you reached the corner house in the location, a young guy and a woman were waiting outside. The woman introduced herself as Darlene. She seemed nice and took the kitten gently from your hands. You waited for a bit while Darlene checked on the injuries.

However, the weirdly creepy receptionist, Mark, seemed to take too much interest in you, and he asked questions. A lot of questions. And he made you pretty uncomfortable. Luckily, Darlene walked out to tell you all was fine and that she would keep a watch on the kitten overnight. You were grateful that it wasn't anything serious. You promised to drop by tomorrow after she said it was okay for you to visit since it was a holiday.

Mark told you he'd walk you to the truck and wouldn't take no for an answer. By some miracle, Darlene understood and called him for something she needed. He begrudgingly got to work, giving you time to escape.

Yeah, it had been one crazy evening. Now that you think of it, the past month has been the same way.

****

In retrospect, it started with you getting buzzed after the Thanksgiving dinner at the compound. The seemingly innocent discussion with Vision about the white hole and string theory shifted to abstract physics. Then, it veered to your favorite multiverse causality, which brought to this discussion about your supersoldiers.

"You have such affection for them," Vision remarked.

"Of course I do," you replied breezily, sipping down the espresso martini. "They're my best friends." You grinned.

Vision tilted his head, studying you, dissecting your thoughts. "It is more than that," he said gently. "You love them. And it transcends friendship."

"What? No," you scoffed, a nervous laugh bubbling up. "That's... I mean, Vision, come on. It's not like that."

You defended, deterred, and denied. And you argued passionately with Vision that he was wrong and entirely out of his depth.

He gave you a smile. "One only argues this fervently when the truth threatens to unravel their carefully constructed narrative. No?"

And the point hit home like Thor's lightning.

Love? That wasn't love. That was friendship. Mutual respect. Admiration, loyalty, and the way they made you feel so cared for, and so so protective, it ought to be friendship! That's all it was. Wasn't it? Friends spend all day, every day together. Friends, just know what you need before you even say it... Friends do that. Totally!

You shook your head, muttering about Vision overanalyzing human emotions, and excused yourself to refill your drink. But his words trailed you, seeping in and breaking every carefully shackled, dreamy thought you occasionally had.

And your eyes landed on them. They were in the kitchen with Sam and Bruce. When your eyes met Steve's, he was already gazing at you. He wiggled your favorite ice cream in his hand, scooped it into a bowl, and winked at you. And Bucky's eyes softened when you met his gaze. He was in a mid-argument with Sam and casually leaned beside Steve, giving you a grin.

Your breath stilled. And something fucking snapped in place, and that realization disrupted everything.

Holy Shit!

Sitting on the nearby couch, you trembled as the flooding thoughts overtook your senses and limbs.

You've been inseparable for years now. You've known Steve even longer since he came out of the ice. Steve and you both were there to help Bucky through his healing. It had been a long journey through ups and downs, but you all were here with a somewhat stable life.

Now, there were times you felt extremely frustrated with the way they treated you, extremely protective and like you were delicate. They were there through your every whim and craziness; likewise, you were there for them. Though initially fostering a crush on both, becoming friends with them sidetracked your crush, or that was what you thought. Apparently not!

That rigid fact of love and its effects took hold of you, and you became even more aware of your predicament as time passed. Your thoughts buzzed as Steve casually sat beside you, eating ice cream while Bucky stole a few spoons from yours. The situation worsened when they fussed over your unusually quiet behavior, asking a hundred and some questions if something happened or if you were falling sick. You pulled yourself together and told them you were fine and downright rejected them staying over.

You woke up drenched that night, not from a nightmare; it was more of a wet dream starring two supersoldiers. What followed was you being hyper-focused on every little thing and how obsessively protective they were with you. And your heart was craving more, basking at their every little action.

It was bad.

And it got worse as the dreams continued and their worry for you catapulted, wondering what's going on with you.

Now, personal space was not a concept with both men. They were practically living two doors away in your apartment complex. And they were always around you.

You were starting to realize how fucked up the situation was. There was no way in the world this could work out. You loved them both. And you were acutely aware of their love for each other. How was this ever gonna work out?

Afraid of losing them, knowing you had no defenses against their piercing awareness of every flicker of your expression and every erratic heartbeat, you decided to take some time away. After all, distance helped you hate your family less. Out of sight, out of mind, right? You thought, why not try?

But it was not that easy to suddenly up and leave. Opportunity came in the form of a mission in Arizona. It was a level-2 mission, a low-level, routine assignment, far below the high-stakes operations you usually handled with the Avengers. Kert Harrison, the mission lead, seemed pleasantly surprised when you volunteered.

You let Steve and Bucky know only after you were strapped into the jet, delivering the news as casually as you could manage: the team needed a tech assistant, and you'd joined at the last minute.

Thus started the careful ghosting.

And the group chat exploded with messages. Bucky demanded the details, cursing up a storm, and you replied, 'Chill out, Sergeant, you know I can't communicate that stuff.'

You've ignored them after that. The mission was simple, walk-in-the-park simple, walk-in-the-house simple. Kept you occupied, though. But once the mission was done, the pit in your stomach grew, and the thought of seeing them terrified you.

"A little more time would help," you told yourself, "Just a little more time to breathe."

Knowing that Captain Softly Stern and Sergeant Toughly Tender would be your doom if you were anywhere close to them in this mindset, you ran for the hills. Quite literally.

Your aunt Ellen had a cabin in a small mountain town in NC. Conveniently, she was in Hawaii, leaving her cabin all alone. So, you decided it could use some company.

You then dropped a vague message telling them your aunt needed you, a family emergency, which was far from the truth.

And it sounded like the perfect Christmas. To be home alone.

But the problem was the cabin was not just lonely. It was alone lonely. The nearest town was 20 minutes away. Decked somewhere in the deep woods, a few other cabins surrounded near the lake. It suited Aunt Ellen, though. She occasionally came up to write or chill from the hustle and bustle of California.

And it didn't help that the whole setting felt like a Stephen King novel waiting to manifest. You couldn't help but internally whimper, but you sucked it up, pushing yourself to make it through.

You ignored the worried calls, always leaving them a text reply with a vaguely convincing excuse.

Guilt burgeoned your chest steadily for not spending Christmas with them. For the past few years, you three cozied up on the winter nights, cooking, baking, arguing, decorating, binge watching & cringe watching and the whole prospect had become a tradition.

Two days before Christmas, Steve had left a message asking if you could make it home. Home. He called it home, and your heart pained.

'Not likely, Steve.' You texted him.

'🥺🥹😭💔' he replied, making you almost break down and cry. He never sent any sort of emojis, and you always teased him about it. 'Emojis do the whole work and some, Steve.' You had told him a long, long while ago.

Steve might have thought this was the time to come after your heart with the series of emojis he sent. You had no guts to reply.

Bucky, however, seemed to stop buying your excuses after you ignored his calls. He stopped calling and texting altogether. It was typical Bucky. He got passively aggressive until you gave in. And you mustered a ton of courage to not just call or text.

Christmas morning, you woke up feeling like the Grinch. The memory of the worst Christmas when you were fourteen has been replaced by Christmas this year. This one felt far worse.

Steve left a voice message. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. It's not the same without you." He sighed, voice soft and tattered. "We…miss you," his soft, broken voice shattered your heart even more.

Bucky, on the other hand, ignored you royally. But by the afternoon, he left a text with two words, 'Merry Christmas.' And your shattered heart further splintered.

This brilliant need-some-space vacation idea was supposed to be an escape, a way to clear your mind, to get over everything swirling inside. But it was only making things worse. It felt like you were meditating on them, and only them?

Ugh!

You mustered courage and called them that evening. Bucky picked up first, his voice gruff, replies short and clipped. "Fine. You doing good?" You hummed. "How's your aunt?" Steve piped in. They must've put you on speaker.

"She's ok," you said, and before they prodded, you asked them about their day. They mentioned getting your gifts, but other than that, they hadn't done much. The conversation felt hollow, and guilt weighed heavy on you. You felt like the worst person in the world.

Hurriedly, you said your goodbyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

And then, you succumbed to the loneliness that clung to your heart and the messiness that tangled your thoughts. You spent six agonizing days in the cabin in the woods, fighting every instinct to run back to them.

That was a week ago. Seven horrible days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and you thought you could use some sustenance, but it had already been one hell of a day.

~

Driving back to the cabin, you felt someone was watching you. You shook it off, chalking it up to the weird encounter with Mark. He'd set your nerves on edge, that's all. And at least the kitten was alright.

Pulling into the cabin's garage, you parked your car, not noticing the unfamiliar vehicle parked on the other side. You made your way to the other side to grab the grocery bags. The cold mountain air nipped at your skin.

The sound of boots against the gravel made you freeze. Your heart slammed into your ribs, and your pulse raced. There were a few other cabins nearby, but why would someone trespass, you wondered.

Was it Mark? Had he followed you? You grabbed the nearest thing within reach, a hammer, from the small wooden table.

The sound of heavy steps approached closer and closer, and you tightened your grip, preparing to swing. You almost threw the hammer, too, but realizing who stood there made you whimper in relief and dread.

"What the fuck? What are you two doing here?" you yelled, confused and rattled.

Steve briskly walked toward you, his expression concerned. "Is that blood?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to get a look at your neck and hands.

Oh? You glanced at yourself and then up at them.

"Are you hurt?" Steve repeated his question sternly, pulling down the zipper to your jacket, completely unbothered.

"HEY!" You shook your head, stepping away from his hold. At least you tried.

Before you could protest, Bucky came closer, his brow furrowed as he unzipped your jacket, swatting away your tiny hand. Both of them froze, staring at your shirt. You glanced down and groaned. You'd forgotten you were wearing a Captain America T-shirt now covered in blood.

Steve blinked, visibly surprised. They had no idea you owned any Captain America merchandise, let alone a few bobbleheads, one of a metal-armed man and another of the man himself holding his shield, both of which you'd secretly bought earlier this year.

Bucky turned you around, cold fingers holding your chin up, demanding if you were hurt. Your breath hitched, looking up at him. His stubble was slightly grown, and the stressed look on his face made you more worried. You glanced at Steve; he looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his knuckles looked marred like he had been going at the punching bags.

"I'm fine." You whispered, not meeting their gaze and staring at the soft blue undershirt covering Bucky's broad chest. Steve had taken the hammer you still held in your hands and carefully placed them on the table.

"Start talking before you give us a heart attack," he sternly demanded.

You rolled your eyes and cleared your hazy mind. You took a steadying breath before explaining to them that it wasn't your blood and what had actually happened with the kitten, omitting Mark of course. When you finished, you glanced up at them, who looked at you angrily.

Bucky sighed, and he took another deliberate step closer to you. "Family emergency, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then why are you here playing house in the middle of nowhere while your aunt Ellen is in Hawaii?"

Your eyes widened, "How the hell…?" your question faltered on your lips as you caught the guilty look in Steve's eyes while Bucky shrugged smugly.

"Never mind. Don't answer that," you muttered, reminding yourself that you were talking to Captain America & the ex-Winter Soldier.

Steve zipped up your jacket when you shivered from the sudden gust of wind. "Let's go inside," he ordered. You nodded, reaching for the bags, but Bucky was already there, pushing you aside.

"Get your ass inside. I've got them," he grumbled, clearly angry at you for ghosting them.

You walked with Steve and Bucky beside you, fumbling for your keys, but Steve simply pushed the door open. "Don't bother," he mumbled.

"Unbelievable," you muttered. "You pried open the door?" you squeaked.

"Your phone was inside. Your car was outside. No sign of you," Bucky said defensively. "What the fuck did you expect us to do?"

When you glanced at Steve, who tended to be less of a rule-breaking hazard than Bucky, he shrugged, "Oh, I was this close to breaking it down. Thanks to Bucky, we managed to keep it intact." Steve chuckled, holding the door open for you and Bucky to enter.

"Ugh," you groaned, storming into the cabin with them trailing behind.

"Nice shirt, by the way," Steve commented as you walked in, "Didn't know you were a fan."

"Of course you like it," Bucky chuckled, glancing at Steve with that grin you were all too familiar with. Steve straightened up proudly.

"Do you also have a Winter Soldier plushie hiding somewhere? No judgment if you do." Bucky snickered, reaching you, dropping the bags on the counter, and effectively cornering you in the small kitchen.

Your face burned. "It's my aunt's. She's a fan. I found it lying around," you lied poorly.

"Uh-huh," Bucky smirked, and Steve grinned, knowing all the signs fully well.

You cleaned up your hands, washing out the traces of blood here and there. You felt agitated. They were here, the stupidly gorgeous men. Your friends. Your everything. They couldn't possibly understand the volcanic arc stretching your mind right now.

You grabbed a bottle from the neatly stacked row in the cabinet, placed it on the counter, and unscrewed the cap. Sidestepping Bucky, you quickly made your way to the living room. As soon as you sat down, you chugged half the bottle, feeling the cool liquid help clear some of the tension that had been building in your chest.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" you asked, feeling utterly exhausted and emotionally drained.

You heard them approach you as Steve settled beside you and Bucky sat on the wooden coffee table before you. For a split second, you thought it would give away, but the table looked sturdy.

You sighed and refocused on getting your brain to work, but it felt impossible with them so close.

Steve took your left hand into his large, firm grip. He traced his thumb along your wrist, his touch sending waves of warmth flooding through you, and for a moment, your heartbeat stuttered, racing beneath his fingertips. You tried to steady your breath, but it only intensified the sensation.

"What are you doing here, doll?" Bucky asked seriously, and you averted your gaze, trying to pull away your hand from Steve's, but he wouldn't let go.

"Steve," you muttered softly, helplessly, and he reluctantly let go.

"Uh…I…" you started, heart thundering. This was supposed to be your solace, your way out of the whole thing, and here you were being asked to confront. You hated it.

Your head started pounding. You rubbed your fingers to your head.

Bucky stood abruptly. "Alright, sit tight. I'll make you some tea. It'll ease your headache."

"No!" you snapped, your voice rising. "Stop that. Do not make tea."

Bucky froze mid-step, genuinely baffled by your sudden outburst. "Okayyy. No tea," he said slowly, folding his arms. "But I'm not giving you coffee. You'll end up awake all night, and it gives you a stomachache," Bucky argued.

You buried your head in your hands, feeling overwhelmed and helpless. How do you not become hyper-aware of all these little things? How? They never would get it.

Steve leaned closer, still maintaining distance, but his hand caressed your hair, comforting and enraging your senses, "Hey, did you eat anything besides cereal?" he asked, and you looked at him confused.

You couldn't help but scoff internally. How the hell would you know that, Rogers? But you didn't voice your thoughts aloud. Knowing he knew you better.

"Okay, we are not talking until you eat something. Go change, wash up. I'll make you something," he ordered.

With a dejected sigh, you dragged yourself up and headed for the shower.

The shower helped, mostly. It washed away the blood and tiredness, surely, but also washed some of your inhibitions away.

You headed back to the kitchen, where you heard them.

"Slice it, Buck, not Julienne."

"It tastes the same. How does it matter?" Bucky argued.

You couldn't help but chuckle. This was familiar. This felt like home. They were home. And there they were, making sandwiches and looking utterly comfortable, their shoes and jackets discarded. They also looked sinfully hot, those tight undershirts clinging to their muscles, and the agonizing thoughts returned.

"I miss your t-shirt," Steve quipped with a grin, eyeing your plain red t-shirt and leggings as you walked closer. "Again, that's my aunt's. Get over it, Steven." You muttered.

Bucky leaned against the countertop, his intense gaze fixed on yours. You walked up to him slowly.

"Sorry for yelling at you," you told him sincerely. His gaze searched yours, and his insanely pink lips curled into a small smile.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low and warm, pulling you into a hug before you could respond.

You melted into him immediately, feeling the heat of his body against yours, the familiar comfort of his embrace washing over you. That perfect mix of musk and something undeniably Bucky wafted over your senses and calmed the chaos inside your head. You tightened your arms around him, the ache of missing him--of missing them--filling your chest.

You could feel the deep rumble of his chest against your cheek, the sound vibrating through you, sending a warmth that felt grounding and exhilarating. And when he tightened his hold around you, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitched. You flushed, overwhelmed by the intensity of it.

"'S all good, ok?" he murmured softly, his voice so reassuring it made your heart ache. "Let's eat."

Reluctantly, you pulled away, blinking as you tried to steady yourself, the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

When you walked towards Steve, he grinned at you, and you leaned your forehead against his large bicep, feeling it flex as he worked. His familiar warmth settled around you.

"I hate it when you don't take care of yourself," Steve said. You stepped away before Steve decided to lecture you more.

You grabbed the plates and started setting them aside, wanting to keep busy to avoid the tension in the room. Your furtive glances toward them didn't go unnoticed. Both Steve and Bucky were quiet as you ate in silence. You hated yourself for not suggesting that you play something on the TV to distract from the discomfiting silence. But you were paralyzed emotionally.

When you tried to clear the plates, Steve gently stopped you. You reluctantly handed him the plates, feeling small in the space between you.

Bucky seemed to notice your unease. "Want to have that tea now?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving you. You averted your eyes; instead, you leaned against the wall for support. You nodded in response, trying to pull yourself together but not quite succeeding.

Bucky moved to prepare the tea, and you let yourself stay quiet, not looking at him--at either of them--afraid that if you did, you'd spill everything you'd been trying to hold back.

You felt so pathetic and helpless. Wanting to seek their comfort but feeling that would be unjust.

And you watched Steve walk to you, wiping his hands on the towel before walking closer.

He reached for your hand, his grip warm, and it felt perfectly assuring. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way he held you as if he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Let me ask you something. Did something happen that you're hiding?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to answer.

The intensity of his look only seemed to make it harder. You shook your head slightly, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "No."

"Did Buck or I hurt you?"

"No!" you said, loudly and firmly.

"Then why?" His voice softened even further.

You stared at him, feeling the truth stuck in your throat, tangled in a way that made speaking impossible. Your eyes drifted, landing on Bucky, who stood just a few feet away, his posture tense, his eyes flickering between you and Steve.

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't say it. You'd spent years building something so beautiful with them, something so right. And if you let it out, if you gave voice to the fear and guilt swirling inside you, everything could come crashing down. What if you lost them? Everything between you, the connection, the love, the trust. What if it all fell apart because you were too weak to keep it together?

That thought should have stopped you, should have held you back.

But the tears welled in your eyes despite your best efforts to hide them. You pressed your palms against your temples, trying to stave off the pressure building inside you. Still, the overwhelming rush of emotion was too much.

"Hey, hey…" Steve's voice was soft, and suddenly, his hands were on you, gently pulling your hands away from your face, coaxing your gaze back to him. His eyes, filled with nothing but tenderness, locked onto yours. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us. We're not going anywhere. You're not going to lose us."

You couldn't stop the tears from falling now.

You had no idea what to say or what to do next. All you knew was that you had avoided them to overcome the feelings, but here you were, confronting them head-on.

"You've been my home, both of you," you whispered, voice trembling as you looked at Steve and then Bucky. They were both silent and looked almost terrified.

"I was scared when I realized that... that..." You couldn't finish the thought. Steve and Bucky's eyes locked on yours, looking like they were waiting for something.

"I'm scared, selfish, messy, and all complicated," you continued, your voice breaking with every syllable. "I'm not strong enough to lose you both…" You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to keep your composure. "I'm selfish. To want something I don't deserve. And you might just hate me after I tell you."

You sounded so pathetic to your ears. You couldn't look at them anymore. You couldn't face them. Without thinking, you walked away, stumbling to the drawing room, where you collapsed onto the couch, curling in on yourself. You clutched your t-shirt tightly by the sides and let the tears flow freely, everything from guilt to pain to fear pouring out.

You felt Steve and Bucky both hurry towards you. Steve knelt before you, large palms rubbing your thighs to calm you.

"Look at me," Steve said, voice barely above a whisper. "Say it," his commanding tone was merely begging, pleading.

And you obeyed.

"I can't keep this in anymore, Steve. It's suffocating me. I love you both, and I'm so scared."

You said it, sealed your fate.

For a moment, there was nothing. Complete silence.

You could feel Steve's grip on your legs loosen, his hands falling away slowly as if the weight of your confession had stunned him. Then, Bucky's breath hitched from behind you. His presence shifted, the weight beside you on the couch telling you he sat beside you.

You shut your eyes, silently crying.

You did it. You messed up. Didn't you? You felt ashamed. This was the moment you feared the most. They'd never look at you the same way. You'd ruined everything.

"Do you think I'd let just anyone touch my hair?" Bucky asked, his voice low and trembling. You looked up, confused. What did that have to do with what you said?

"What?" You managed hoarsely.

"You," he said, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours. "I let you cut my hair. I hate when anyone touches it but with you... it's different. It's always been different."

"Bucky..." you whispered, but he didn't let you interrupt.

"I loved you the moment you held me close after that nightmare in Wakanda. Do you remember that? I was a mess, and you just… didn't let go. Not until I could breathe again. I broke your finger by mistake at how tight I held you." His voice broke, and he swallowed hard.

"I love Steve. I've always loved him. And then... I loved you, too. It scared the shit out of me, but it's the truth." Bucky sniffled, and continued, "Ever since Thanksgiving, you've been distant, and I was terrified, thinking I'd done something terrible and lost you forever. And it fucking hurts, sweetheart."

Your breath caught in your throat. You stood up, stumbling ungracefully as you stepped away, needing to breathe. Bucky moved behind you, his hands on your arms, steadying you. You let him hold you. He tugged you closer, your back against his strong chest, his arms winding on your stomach, letting you put all your weight onto him, effectively calming you.

Steve stepped forward, holding something small in his hand. Your eyes widened as he held up a familiar notebook.

"Do you remember this?" he asked softly.

You nodded, stunned. That's the tiny notebook you gave to him. Years ago, right after he came out of the ice.

Steve opened the notebook and flicked through the pages. Your breath hitched as you saw it filled with sketches of you, Bucky, and moments you'd shared.

"You told me to fill it with things I wanted to remember," Steve said, his voice warm and full of emotion. "But all I could think about was you. I was so scared to feel love again. I loved Bucky for so long, and then you came into my life, and I... I didn't know how to go about it."

Steve exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with Bucky. His eyes softened as he continued, "But then Bucky returned, and I realized he felt the same. I've never been very religious, doll, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't pray for this every darn day."

Bucky chuckled softly, the sound deep and reassuring. "Believe me, we'd be a mess without you," he said, gently kissing your hair. "I love you," he murmured.

"I love you," Steve echoed, gently kissing your cheek.

You blinked rapidly and your mind was reeling. The world seemed to stop around you. Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat as you processed their words. But then, confusion took over.

"I... I don't understand. I can't choose," you stammered, your heart torn between the joy and the overwhelming fear of what this meant.

"You don't have to," Bucky said firmly, lips touching your right ear sensually, sending shivers down your spine. "Steve and I are a package deal. You get him, you get me, and vice versa. Take it or leave it. Actually, scratch that. Just take it."

Your lips parted in disbelief, and looked at Steve. He nodded, looking at you hopefully. You let out a nervous chuckle.

"What did you put in that sandwich? I think I'm high," you mumbled, laughing softly.

Steve smirked, his eyes twinkling joyfully. "Apart from Bucky's horribly chopped tomatoes, nothing you don't like," he teased. He crouched slightly to kiss you softly. Just a barely present touch, but it lit a fire so quickly that you trembled. He tasted perfect, just like him, soft and manly.

Bucky followed suit, twirling you in his arms, lifting you to his level, his kiss more fervent, grounding you. He tasted musky and familiar, spicy and so so him.

You pulled back, wide-eyed, your heart racing.

"Oh, boy," you whispered, a dazed smile across your face.

The distant sound of fireworks startled you, and the three of you turned toward the window. Faint remnants of flickering lights lit up the sky. The neighbors must have set the fireworks on the lake.

"Happy New Year," Steve said softly, his hand finding yours and Bucky's.

"Happy New Year," Bucky echoed, his metal arm wrapping around your waist.

Happy New Year, indeed!

And tomorrow, you'd text your aunt out of courtesy, letting her know you have visitors over, while keeping all the lewd details to yourself. Then, you'd go to the vet to check on the kitten, which the three of you decide to adopt and name her Alpine. A purrfect New Year, indeed!

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[aryadelvich]

Studying with Luigi

Here’s a story from this request

If you’re looking for more of my work here’s Updated Masterlist

Summary : Luigi has a secret crush on you. Both of you attending the same university. When you ask him for help with math, what starts as a simple study session quickly gets spicy !!

Warning : explicite content 🔞🔞

I don’t know why this song feels like Luigi in college.

Luigi stood in the university hall, leaning casually against a wall as his friends joked around. Though he appeared to be listening, his focus shifted the moment he saw you descending the staircase.

His gaze lingered longer than it should have, tracing the determined set of your jaw and the way you clutched a paper tightly in one hand. There was something different about you today—your usual cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a tense, distracted air.

Then your eyes met his.

Caught off guard, Luigi looked away quickly, his pulse quickening.

"Oh, look. It's Y/N," one of his friends said with a teasing grin, just loud enough for you to hear.

As if on cue, the group turned to look at you. Luigi let out a quiet sigh, his jaw tightening. He had noticed you from the very first day of class but hadn't said anything to his friends. And now, they were practically gawking.

You stopped mid-step, offering the group a polite smile. "Hi, guys."

Your gaze flickered briefly to Luigi, and this time, you greeted him with a smile that held just the faintest edge of teasing.

"Hi, Luigi," you said, your tone light.

His throat tightened, and his response came out awkwardly, barely audible. "H-hi Y/n"

You stepped closer, holding out the paper in your hand. "I need help with applied mathematics. You're taking it as a minor, right? And from what I hear, you're pretty good at it."

"Oh... yeah," Luigi stammered, unprepared for your directness.

Before he could offer a proper response, one of his friends cut in, raising a hand dramatically. "I can help you too, Y/N!"

"Yeah, me too," another added, clearly trying to impress you.

Luigi shot them both an annoyed glance. "Back off," he muttered, though his tone remained light enough to pass as joking.

You raised an eyebrow, amusement flashing in your eyes. “I’m gonna choose whoever scored the highest on the last test gets to tutor me."

The group fell into a brief silence, and then the scores started coming in.

"71."

"82."

"89."

"80."

Finally, Luigi spoke, his voice calm and steady. "95."

Your lips curved into a grin. "Well, looks like we have a winner. Luigi, you're my tutor."

The subtle pride in his expression didn't escape you, though he tried to play it cool.

"How about tomorrow at the library?" he offered.

You shook your head. "I need to study tonight—my retake is the day after tomorrow. Your place or mine?"

Luigi froze, your words echoing in his mind. Around him, his friends erupted into laughter, elbowing each other and exchanging smirks.

"M-my room... if that's okay with you," he managed, his voice suddenly tight.

"Perfect," you said with an easy smile. "I'll see you after class, then."

As you turned and walked off, Luigi stared after you, his thoughts racing.

"Dude, did you hear that? She literally said, 'Your place or mine.' That's your chance !" one of his friends teased, slapping him on the shoulder.

Luigi shoots them a sharp look. "Shut up. She just needs help, that's all."

"Sure, sure," another friend says, smirking knowingly.

But Luigi doesn't respond. He's too preoccupied with the thought of spending time with you alone. Ever since you entered his life, you've had a way of unsettling the calm, logical order he's used to.

[7 PM]

Luigi paced nervously in his room, adjusting the books and papers on his desk for what felt like the hundredth time. He smoothed the creases in his shirt, glanced at the clock, and took a steadying breath.

A soft knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He opened it to find you standing there, arms full of notes, a faint smile on your lips.

"Ready for an intense night of applied math?" you joke.

He steps aside to let you in, trying to mask his nervousness. "I hope you're prepared to work hard because I'm a tough teacher," he quips.

You laugh as you take a seat at his desk, spreading out your notes. Luigi watches you discreetly, wondering why your presence alone is enough to make his heart race. He pulled up a chair beside you. He sits next to you and opens a notebook filled with neatly organized notes. His subtle cologne lingers in the air, and you can't help but notice how focused he looks when he starts explaining.

"Alright, show me what's giving you trouble," he says, gesturing to your notes.

You flip to a particularly challenging problem. "This one. Honestly, equations like this make me want to quit. Differential equations are a nightmare."

Luigi chuckles softly. "They seem daunting, but once you understand the logic, it's not so bad. Let's break it down step by step."

He explains with patience, his calm voice guiding you through each line. As complicated as the topic is, his methodical approach makes everything click.

"Oh! I get it now!" you exclaim, your face lighting up. "Why didn't anyone explain it like this before? It's so obvious!"

He grins, clearly proud of your progress. "See? I told you it wasn't as hard as it looked."

You work together for a while, your confidence growing with each solved problem. At one point, as you reach for his notebook, your fingers brush against his. The brief touch makes you pause, and you notice him quickly look away, his ears turning red.

"Sorry," you murmur, pulling your hand back.

"It's... it's nothing," he replies, his voice quiet.

The atmosphere grows heavier as you both become more aware of the growing tension between you.

At one point, your hands brushed as you both reached for the same pen. You pulled back quickly, but not before your gaze met his. A flicker of something passed between you—brief, but undeniable. Luigi looked away again, clearing his throat.

Luigi leaned closer to point out an error in your notes, his shoulder brushing against yours. You froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was.

"Here," he murmured, his raspy voice lower now, almost intimate.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the slight crease in his brow as he concentrated. The sharp lines of his jaw, the faint curl of his hair—it all felt too distracting.

"Got it?" he asked, his tone snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, focusing back on the paper.

But even as the night continued, the unspoken tension between you lingered, growing in the quiet spaces between words. Neither of you dared to name it, but it was there—electric and impossible to ignore.

A few minutes later, after tackling another problem, Luigi leans closer to explain a particular detail. His proximity sends a wave of nervous energy through you, but you fight to keep your focus. When his elbow accidentally brushes against the side of your chest, warmth spreads through your body, pooling low in your stomach. 

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged with embarrassment. 

"It's fine..." you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

But your concentration falters as your thoughts begin to wander. Your eyes trace the lines of his hands—large and strong, with long, deft fingers. Veins crisscross his forearms, disappearing into the back of his hands, and the way he grips the pen exudes a quiet confidence. His arms are muscular, his collarbone defined, hinting at the sculpted frame beneath his shirt. 

Your gaze dips lower, involuntarily lingering at his crotch for a moment too long. You can't help yourself. Luigi has always been a contradiction: introverted and composed, yet brimming with a quiet fire, a confidence you've never fully understood but can't help wanting to unravel. 

Your eyes shift back to his face, and you find yourself studying him anew. His profile is striking—an angular jawline, lips that seem almost too perfect, and a thick beard that he likely trims every day. His brows are bold, framing a gaze that is somehow both piercing and gentle. There's an elegance to his nose and a wildness to his untamed curls, as though he doesn't care enough to control them. 

You're not sure what's happening, what this magnetic pull between you means. And judging by the faint tension in his movements, neither does he. 

"Alright," Luigi says, his voice breaking through your reverie. "I'm going to give you an exercise now. It'll cover everything we've gone over so far. You'll work on it yourself while I keep an eye on your progress." 

"Okay," you reply, nodding eagerly, grasping at the distraction. 

He steps back, giving you space to focus. For a few minutes, you immerse yourself in the task, scribbling out equations and trying to channel all your thoughts into solving the problem. But then you feel him again—standing behind you, his presence throwing your concentration into disarray. Your mind strays to places it shouldn't, thoughts you can't control flaring to life. 

Luigi crouches down beside you, his arm resting on the back of your chair. The closeness feels almost deliberate, his movements steady yet unassuming, as if he's unaware of the way he's affecting you. 

"Look here," he instructs, his voice low and firm. 

He reaches for your pen, his fingers brushing against yours once again. The contact feels electric, sending a jolt through you. He corrects the mistake with a confident stroke, then places the pen back in your hand. 

Your eyes lift to meet his, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The air between you feels charged, heavy with something unspoken yet impossible to ignore. You both break the gaze at the same time, awkward and unsure. The tension hangs there, undeniable yet unaddressed.

He leaned closer, his curly brown hair falling into his face as he pointed at a particularly confusing problem. "Okay," he said, his voice soft but confident, "tell me what the derivative of this function is."

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. Your eyes flickered to his face—his sharp jawline, the faint stubble, the way his lips curved into that patient smile. He caught your gaze and tilted his head, his brown eyes narrowing playfully.

"Focus," he teased, tapping the page with his pen.

"I... I don't remember," you admitted, flushing slightly under his scrutiny.

"Hmm." He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that made your stomach flutter. "Wrong answer. But don't worry, we'll get there."

He scooted closer, his thigh brushing against yours, and you felt a jolt of warmth shoot through your body. His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "Let's break it down step by step. Think of it like building something from scratch—you start with the foundation, right?"

You nodded, though your attention was less on the math and more on the way his hand gestured animatedly as he explained. God, why does he have to be so damn attractive? His rolled-up sleeves revealed the veins running along his forearms, and you couldn't help but imagine how they'd feel under your fingertips.

"So, if f(x) equals 2x squared plus 3x minus 4," he continued, writing out the equation neatly, "what's the first step?"

Your mind went blank again, but this time it wasn't just because of the math. The proximity was getting to you—his woodsy cologne, the warmth radiating off his body, the way his leg pressed against yours. You shifted slightly, trying to focus, but it was impossible.

"Uh..." you stalled, glancing up at him.

His lips quirked into a knowing smirk. "Wrong again," he murmured, leaning in even closer. His breath ghosted over your ear as he whispered with his raspy voice, "You're not paying attention, are you?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Maybe I need a different kind of lesson," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Luigi froze for a moment, his pen hovering mid-air. Then, slowly, he set it down and turned to face you fully. His expression was unreadable, but there was a heat in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh?" he said, his voice low and velvety. "What kind of lesson did you have in mind?"

You hesitated for only a second before reaching out and placing a hand on his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath your palm, steady and strong. "One where you show me exactly how much you know," you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your boldness.

His lips parted in surprise, but then his eyes darkened with something primal, something hungry. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"Positive," you breathed, closing the distance between you.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and everything changed. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you dizzy, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you in a way that made your toes curl.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were hooded, his pupils blown wide with desire. "If I'm going to teach you anything," he murmured, his voice rough, "you're going to have to follow my rules."

You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "What are they?"

A wicked grin spread across his face. "Every time you get a question wrong," he said, trailing a finger down your arm, "I stop. No touching, no kissing, nothing. Until you get it right."

"And if I get it right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His grin widened. "Then I'll reward you appropriately."

Before you could respond, he grabbed the textbook again and flipped to a new page. "Alright," he said, his tone suddenly serious, though his eyes still burned with mischief. "What's the integral of sine x?"

Your brain scrambled to recall the formula, but all you could think about was the way his thumb was tracing circles on your thigh. "I don't care."

He shook his head, clicking his tongue again. "Nope. Wrong." And just like that, he leaned back, his hands dropping away from you.

You groaned in frustration, but there was a thrill in the challenge, a fire igniting deep within you. "Fine. Try me again."

This time, when he asked another question, you forced yourself to focus, determined not to let him win so easily. And when you finally got the answer right, the look of pure satisfaction on his face was worth every second of torment.

"Good," he purred, pulling you back into his arms. His lips crashed against yours, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as he explored every inch of your skin.

But just as things were heating up, he pulled away again, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Next question," he said, his voice thick with arousal. "What's the limit as x approaches infinity of 1 over x?"

You bit your lip, your mind racing. "Zero?"

He smiled, slow and dangerous. "Correct."

And then his lips were on you again, his hands everywhere at once, until the only thing you could think about was him—his taste, his touch, the sound of his ragged breathing as he whispered your name.

But just as you reached for the hem of his shirt, he stopped you, his grip firm. "Wait," he said, his voice hoarse. "What's the area under the curve of y equals x squared from 0 to 2?"

You blinked, your brain struggling to catch up. "Uh... 8/3?"

He grinned, his hands sliding up your thighs. "Exactly right."

And then he kissed you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, desperate and wanting.

But before things could escalate further, he broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he stared into your eyes. "Last question," he said, his voice shaking with restraint. "What's the probability of us finishing this without any interruptions?"

You laughed breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. "Slim to none."

"That's what I thought," he growled, pressing his forehead against yours. "But I'm willing to take the risk if you are."

His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body. The air in the room was thick with tension, every breath you took filling your lungs with the scent of him—clean sweat, cologne, and something uniquely Luigi. His brown eyes locked onto yours, dark with desire, but still glinting with that playful intelligence that always seemed to disarm you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "What's the derivative of e^(2x)?"

You froze for a moment, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the way his fingers were now tracing circles on your inner thigh. Think, think. You bit your lip, trying to recall the formula. "Uh... 2e^(2x)?"

A slow, approving smile spread across his face. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice low and smooth like honey. His hand moved higher, his fingertips grazing the edge of your panties. You gasped, arching into his touch, but he paused, his smile turning teasing. "Next question. What's the integral of sin(x)? If you get it wrong, I stop."

"Luigi," you whined, squirming under his hold. His thumb pressed against the sensitive spot just above your knee, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. "That's not fair."

"All's fair in love and math," he teased, leaning back slightly to give you space to think. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn't help but laugh despite the ache pooling between your legs.

"The integral is -cos(x)," you said quickly, hoping to end the torture.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Brava," he said as he pulled you closer. His hands slid up your sides, lifting your shirt over your head before you could even process what was happening. The cool air of the room hit your skin, but his body heat chased away any chill. His lips found yours again, hungry and demanding, while his hands explored every curve of your torso.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. He chuckled against your mouth, letting you undo them one by one until his chest was finally bare. Your hands roamed over his abs, tracing the ridges and feeling the tightness of his muscles. He groaned softly, his hips pressing up into yours, and you could feel how hard he already was through his pants.

But before you could take things further, he pulled back again, his breathing ragged. "One more question," he said, his voice rough. "What's the limit as x approaches infinity of (3x^2 + 2)/(4x^2 - 1)?"

You groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. "Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious," he said, his fingers trailing down your spine, making you shiver. "Answer correctly, and I'll make sure you forget your own name."

You could barely think straight, but you forced yourself to focus. The answer came to you in a haze. "Three over four?"

His smile was wicked as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your neck. "Very good baby," he breathed, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin. "Now, let me show you how well I can reward good students."

In one swift motion, he stood, lifting you with him as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and he carried you to his bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you. His kisses trailed down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his lips closed around your nipple, you gasped, your back arching off the bed.

His hands worked quickly, pulling off the rest of your clothes until you were completely bare beneath him. His eyes drank in the sight of you, and the hunger in his gaze made your stomach twist with anticipation. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Before you could respond, his lips descended lower, kissing a path down your stomach until he reached your core. You tensed, your hands gripping the sheets as his tongue touched you for the first time. The sensation was electric, sending sparks through your entire body. He licked slowly, deliberately, driving you insane with the unhurried pace. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pressed two fingers inside you, curling them in a way that made you cry out.

"Luigi!" you moaned, your hips lifting off the bed as he worked you with his mouth and fingers. Every stroke, every lick felt like it was unraveling you piece by piece. You were close—so close—but then he stopped, looking up at you with that devilish smirk.

"What's the value of pi to five decimal places?" he asked, his voice steady despite the slickness on his chin.

"Are you fucking kidding me—" you started, but he cut you off with a pinch to your thigh.

"Answer correctly, and I'll finish what I started," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You clenched your fists, frustration and desperation warring within you. "3.14159," you spat out, glaring at him.

His grin widened, and he didn't waste another second. His tongue dove back in, and this time, he didn't stop until you were trembling beneath him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as pleasure consumed you.

When you finally came down, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only heightened the ache between your legs. His cock pressed against you, hot and heavy, and you reached between you to free him from his pants.

As soon as your hand wrapped around him, he sucked in a sharp breath, his hips jerking forward. "Y/n" he muttered, his voice strained. "You're going to kill me."

You stroked him slowly, savoring the way his eyelids fluttered and his breath hitched. But before you could tease him further, he grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. "My turn," he growled, settling between your legs. The tip of his cock pressed against you, and you both groaned as he pushed inside, inch by inch.

It was almost too much—his size stretching you in the best way possible—but he gave you time to adjust, peppering your neck with soft kisses. When he finally bottomed out, he stilled, his forehead resting against yours. "Tell me this is okay," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"Keep going" you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please, Luigi. Don't stop."

He didn't need to be told twice. His hips began to move, each thrust hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. His rhythm was relentless, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You clung to him, nails digging into his back as you urged him on. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, and each time he swallowed your cries with a kiss.

The coil in your stomach tightened again, your second orgasm building faster than you expected. "I'm close," you gasped, your legs shaking around him.

"Me too," he panted, his movements becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to—"

"Inside," you interrupted, the word coming out as a desperate plea. "Please."

He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts became harder, deeper. With one final push, you shattered, your climax tearing through you like a storm. He followed moments later, spilling himself inside you with a guttural moan. For a long moment, neither of you moved, too lost in the aftermath to care about anything else.

Finally, he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so you were curled against his chest. His heartbeat was rapid under your ear, and his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. "Thank you," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked up at him, grinning despite your exhaustion. "For what? Being a genius at math?"

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "For trusting me." His expression turned thoughtful, and he tilted your chin up so you were looking directly into his eyes.

You stride confidently through the university hall, a triumphant smile lighting up your face. Spotting Luigi, you rush toward him and throw yourself into his arms without hesitation. 

"So, what did you got ?" he asks, barely able to contain his excitement. 

"Ninety-seven! Luigi, you're incredible!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The curious stares from other students don't faze you in the slightest. 

"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" he says, his tone full of warmth and pride. 

"Well, I had the best tutor anyone could ask for," you reply with a teasing grin. 

Not far away, Luigi's group of friends watches the scene, their confusion evident as they exchange glances, silently trying to piece together what they're seeing. 

"How about we celebrate properly? Dinner's on me," Luigi suggests, his smile growing wider. 

"Absolutely!" 

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss his cheek, the gesture natural and full of gratitude. Luigi chuckles softly, his ears turning just a bit pink, but he doesn't pull away. The buzz of the hall seems to fade, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of joy.

GIRLS IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS ASK ME I WILL DO IT WITH PLEASURE !!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK !!!

[tobyisave]

acting lessons

this is for my chapter 5 au... I tried to compose a toxic doomed yaoi saiouma essay in the tags just now but it went over the tag limit (mortifying) so I'm just going to paste it under the cut!!

////cw for suicide of course. also heads up my version of saiouma is almost completely one sided 👍🏼

#look.. in my mind there is no world where shuichi truly comes around on kokichi #but there is TOTALLY a world where he feels eternally fucked up and guilty about assisting in his suicide #and cant bring himself to hate anymore #cant bring himself to reject the casual but blatantly self-indulgent touches of the boy hes about to murder in the most excruciating way possible #just let him have his fun #let him squeeze your shoulder a little too long #its the least you can do when hes about to let his entire body be turned into an unrecognizable puddle of gore #you dont have to pretend you like it. he KNOWS you dont like it. just let it happen & soon enough itll be over and youll never have to see him again #youll never be *able* to see him again. nothing left of him to even call a body #fucking unidentifiable #god. #(to be clear i dont approve of that logic at all but i sure think shuichi would feel that way)

#its like oumota but worse because (to me) shuu has completely written him off by ch5 and doesnt even need the poison blackmailing to agree #its shuichis low point after all hes fully suicidal and thinks kokichi is the mastermind who destroyed humanity's last hope #he doesnt have time to recalculate his opinion before its too late #he agrees almost immediately #but the closer it gets the less he can justify it #like god this guy fills me with rage and we would never ever in a million years get along but hes also a warm breathing human being #and hes in love with me or something and i just agreed to kill him. EAGERLY! #to his FUCKING FACE #yes i openly hated him already. and yes he didnt even blink when i told him i could kill him #if anything he looked happy! #but god how could i just say that to someone? how did it get this bad? #and how is he still giving me finger hearts through the camera while we test out angles for his fucking DEATH VIDEO #maybe just maybe its because he really thinks this will save us. but maybe he just wants to die #and i dont even know if that makes a difference anymore #et cetera……..

#like i said im not a saiouma guy in the traditional sense but #i do like pathetic clingy kokichi x shuichi who hates himself for harboring genuine malice towards him #(justified malice) #but is too self doubting to take the reins and stop the horrible thing theyve already set in motion

#meeting the same fate as kaede because he THOUGHT he was agreeing to kill the mastermind #when in reality it was really just a cagey guy who was trying to do the EXACT same thing and made the mistake of going it alone #and now that guy who couldve been his ally is dead and he has to pretend hes ok and lie to his friends to derail this trial #for this stupid idiotic plan he let himself get blindly swept up in #that was never going to work in the first place #he knew it was full of holes he knew ouma was full of shit #he knew himself he knew he'd buckle under the pressure of the trial #but he didnt say a thing #it was so much easier to go with it. he just wanted it to be fucking over with #well its not over. the game continues and kokichi is dead and for what #didnt lift a fucking finger #fucking idiot coward bottom of the barrel piece of shit. GOD #i dont know man. it's just real kill yourself hours for shuichi after this one