#also if anyone has any evidence suggesting these two care more or care less than I think they do

[cryptidorchid]

I’ve seen a lot of people call out Scott’s lack of care for Jimmy’s life in Third Life. (Usually, this is part of their explanation for why they think flower husbands is toxic) And I think these points are interesting but kind of miss that the lack of care is reciprocated by Jimmy.

In Scott’s case, the moments I see pointed out the most are the two times Scott treated Jimmy dying like it was a spectator sport. Like when Jimmy got attacked by the enderman or Jimmy played the Tango’s lava minigame and Scott was like “I’m just here to see if Jimmy dies” and when he told Grian that “once our husbands die, we can be free.” 

I will play devil’s advocate for a moment here and say that in all of these moments, regardless of what Scott was saying about it, he took action to try to keep Jimmy alive. In the first two instances mentioned, he gave Jimmy advice to help him survive and in the last one with Grian, he suggested Jimmy should stay in the bunker so he could be safer. But I will admit that Scott acts very apathetic about Jimmy dying.

In Jimmy’s case, he’s less verbally apathetic but his actions seem strange for someone who should want Scott to stay alive. Like that time where Grian and Scar let their enderman free to attack Scott and Jimmy scolded Scott for killing the enderman because it upset Grian and Scar. And even when Scott was being attacked, Jimmy’s response was just yelling that he wasn’t the one who looked at the enderman and then watching as Scott gets attacked. And there was that time when they found the enchanting table outside of Renchanting and Jimmy (correctly) guessed that it might be a trap so he told Scott to mine it.  For the second one, Jimmy says it’s because he’s just died so he doesn’t want to die again which would be fair, except neither of them have any motivation to mine the enchanting table in the first place, so the reasonable response would be “it might be a trap so neither of us should mine it”

Which made it really weird when the Dogwarts confrontation happened and suddenly, they’re all protective over each other. Suddenly, they’re like “Jimmy, don’t go near the scary red name!” and “Scott, what if they sacrifice you on their altar?” 

What? Where did this come from? At least in Scott’s case, I can guess it was because Jimmy’s now a red name so if Jimmy dies, it’s permanent. I don’t know what was up with Jimmy in that moment.

And, as far as them continuing to be protective after that? On Scott’s end, he was pretty consistent and explicit about wanting to keep Jimmy safe after that (except for him being weirdly happy about the idea of being a widow, don’t know what was up with that). 

On Jimmy’s end, after this, as far as I can tell, he went back to using Scott’s green life as an excuse to ask Scott to take risks. He finds a cake unexpectedly in his house, thinks it might be a trap, and asks Scott to eat it and tell him if anything bad happens. When they're in a fight with Dogwarts, Jimmy tells Scott that he should "get in there" because he’s a green name. Honestly, I don’t think these are that bad because Jimmy was on red and Scott was on green, but it is a big difference from him burning the Dogwarts banner over just the possibility that they might try to kill Scott (and it implies that Jimmy sees Scott's life as disposable which while pragmatic, is not very kind). Anyway, my main point is that I can’t remember Jimmy ever really being worried about Scott’s life outside of the one moment with Dogwarts.

In conclusion, neither of them seemed to be super concerned about the other one dying (Scott said it. Jimmy acted like it) until Jimmy went to red. Which I think mostly had to do with the fact that they both knew the other had more lives to spare. They really lived their lives like “me and my husband who couldn't care less if I live or die.” My dysfunctional faves.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buddie: Bachelor party and the wedding - Eddie's relationship POV

In 7x6, it was evident Buddie is the Superior Endgame Ship to BuckT*mmy and also it's been noted numerous times how T*mmy didn't attempt to dress up and oblige Buck's wishes while Eddie was shown doing it with ease. Even though the scenes were short and most of it was included in a montage of that night, so much was highlighted about both Buck’s and Eddie's current relationships that further demonstrated how much Eddie and Buck know each other inside and out while their supposed LIs don't know them at all.

I've posted at least two or three times about these instances myself (linked here and here).

In addition to the way Buck’s whatever he has going on with T*mmy was depicted as them not knowing each other and how it's being done to show how they're not compatible, it appears less attention is being given to the way Eddie's relationship with Maris*l was just as IGNORED that night if not more than Buck’s with T*mmy's.

Here's what I mean.

Not only did Eddie dress up for the event according to Buck’s wishes, he was the one who suggested he and Buck wear themed 1980s costumes. Also, he made sure Chris was going to be cared for the entire night and he was not being cared for by Eddie’s supposed LI but by his blood family, Chris' cousins. This is important because in 7x4, Eddie said she babysat twice in one week while he went out with T*mmy but if the show wanted the audience to believe or think Eddie’s relationship with her was really strengthening, wouldn't it have made more sense for him to just announce to Buck that she was caring for Chris? It surely does seem like it especially since Chris was out of town the week before in 7x5 and he said she babysat him in 7x4. If it wasn't meant to be intentional, then it was a strange writing choice. Also, it appears Eddie had already planned to be out with Buck for however long it was going to be (the whole night).

Furthermore, in 7x5 Maris*l wouldn't stop calling Eddie while he was spending time with Buck at the loft. They had moved in together but Eddie was shown not wanting to go back there. But in 7x6 when he was out all night with Buck and they were partying like it was 1999 with people they didn't even know, she didn't call once 👀.

Additionally, when everyone else left, Eddie didn't but if the show wanted the audience to believe Eddie was all in with Maris*l, he would have left when Hen, Karen, Ravi and everyone else did and he could have said he was leaving so he could go home to spend time with her to watch a movie or something but they didn’t.

He stayed with Buck and he was the only one who did. Why? Because EDDIE'S MOST IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP IS WITH BUCK THE SAME WAY BUCK’S MOST IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP IS WITH EDDIE.

The fact is they could have easily written the bachelor party scenes differently and shown T*mmy being supportive of Buck and Maris*l being the one who took care of Chris while Eddie was out partying with Chimney, Buck and the rest of Buck’s and Eddie’s found family but instead of doing that, they did the exact opposite. In fact, their scenes together only strengthened the Buddie dynamic and illustrated for the umpteenth time in 6 years how Buck and Eddie are perfect for one another while their supposed LIs aren't.

Finally, Maris*l wasn't even invited to the wedding. Eddie’s abuela was there with him and Chris was too so how does anyone expect for people to root for eddiemaris*l when the show isn't putting any effort into their relationship just like they aren't for buckt*mmy? I don't care and I hope they don't but IMO these are valid questions. The answer is they don't want anyone rooting for those relationships because T*mmy and Maris*l are PLOT DEVICES and they're only there to move Buck’s and Eddie’s arcs to the next plot point.

This is simply another observation about the bachelor party and the writing choices that were made for Eddie's relationship with Maris*l. It highlights the way their relationship is just as unimportant as the one Buck is in with T*mmy.

I ONLY SHIP BUDDIE!

[holy-megs]

. ➵ ⁺ tokyo revengers guys + their favourite piercing preferences on their s/o

. ➵ ⁺ characters: ken ryuguji, kazutora hanemiya, baji keisuke, hakkai shiba, hanma shuji

. ➵ ⁺ cw + tw: fem!reader, characters are aged up, suggestive content, fluffy moments, mentions of piercings, hanma’s + draken’s parts may be a lil too spicy so watch out ¡!

KEN RYUGUJI [DRAKEN] — belly button piercing

Draken is a fan of piercings since he also has one on his left ear, so he will definitely be in awe once he notices that you got one for yourself at your belly button. He will be so proud since he knows that you were scared of doing it yet stunned at the sight. Whenever he sees you wearing a bikini or a crop top that makes the piercing visible, he will get so turned on that he will just want to fuck you at the nearest wall without caring if anyone cathes you both. "Fuck! do you know how hot that piercing makes you look?" Draken will groan against your neck. He may sometimes get jealous and act all overprotective, but he will grab you by the waist and hold you tightly if he ever suspects one of the gang members or even a stranger staring hungrily at you. "Babe, you’re hurting my piercing like that." You will get mad at him since his tough fingers and hands are so veiny and wide that they cover your entire belly and hurt your piercing.

KAZUTORA HANEMIYA — helix, daith, tragus

Kazutora is all about aesthetics. That’s why he adores your ear piercings, mainly the ones that stand out the most and are considered more eccentric and unusual by others. Not to himself, though. Kazu is a man who likes when you do things out of the ordinary and outside your comfort zone. That’s why he likes teasing you about it, and whenever you two make out, he always gets a strand of your hair and gently places it behind your ears just so he can peer at your ear piercings. “You’re so pretty like this you know?” His words and eyes will reflect a sense of devotion and compassion. He is awestruck about how much he adores your stunning beauty, including your piercings. Kazu is your number one supporter and fan. Let me tell you, when the two of you get matching piercings, he melts right on the spot. He will be acting like a child, and when you catch him blushing too, the teasing begins. “Awww my baby is a hot mess.” You casually make fun of him while Kazutora tries to cover his face.

BAJI KEISUKE — nose piercing [nostril] + nose hoop + nose bone stud

Baji is no exception to the other two boys since he also loves observing your every move and, of course, more than anything, your nose piercing too. Baji is a guy who likes piercings in general, and he is very tolerant of what you do to your body. He doesn’t like you having a bunch of piercings on you and especially your body, be it on your belly or nipples. He just doesn’t like it. However he is a sucker for nose piercings. Once he notices that you've got a nose piercing and you remove any other unnecessary piercings he advised you about, his smirk will be so evident that you will be able to see his broad teeth. “Suits you well babe.” His eyes will gaze at you softly. Now let me tell you, Baji is a guy who loves you despite what you do to your body and face. This is your life, and he is not some kind of controlling freak telling you what to do. However, since you asked for his opinion, he must be honest. “Suke, your nose—” You will always say this to him in cute annoyance. Baji typically enjoys pressing your noses together and giving you eskimo kisses just so he can admire how cool your piercing is.

HAKKAI SHIBA — lobe, upper lobe

Hakkai, meanwhile, encourages you to have an appearance that is less flashy. He is the type of guy who prefers one exceptional earring on your lobe or upper lobe over many of them, just as he does. Hakkai might be unable to express these desired thoughts to you because, as we all know, he can be awkward and shy when it comes to interacting with women. However, you shouldn't worry because, as you two grow closer, he will learn to be more confident and tell you that you are beautiful even without any piercings. But don't get him wrong. He won't mind if you want more piercings. The poor guy is just too afraid and embarrassed to let you know that he wants to get matching earrings with you.“Shiba-kun, you seem pale, what’s wrong?” You'll start to worry about your boyfriend's attitude out of concern. Hakkai doesn't want you to worry about him, so he will act as if everything is fine while secretly fantasising about how pretty you'll look wearing that earring of his. “y/n, how a-about I lend you my earring instead?” After that, Hakkai's flushed face won't be able to feel justice.

HANMA SHUJI — nipple piercings

As we all know, Hanma changes women faster than he can light up another cigarette. He is very keen on trying new things and experimenting, so it is no wonder he likes nipple piercings. He is a very nasty man who prefers to see your nipples filled with an accessory instead of nothing at all, especially when you have small boobies. Once you show Hanma that you have pierced your titties, he will be so eager to please you. Hanma goes crazy at the sight of his sin and punishment tattooed hands worshipping and touching your boobies like that. He will cup and suck your nipples really hard that you’ll have the best nipple orgasm ever. “Oh? Pretty girl’s getting shy all of a sudden?” His smirk will carelessly widen, and his ego will increase as his sayings make you blush even more. Since you pierced your nipples, Hanma hasn't let you rest and wants to touch your titties every second just to admire your piercings. “You’re noisy today.” You pout at your fuck buddy's teasing behavior while he continues annoying you.

© holy-megs, do not copy or translate my work. reblogs are appreciated.

[romilly-jay]

Knight and Day's "[Lack of] Noble Artistic Intentions" and Knives Out - not the movie kind - for Tom Cruise (Discuss)

***spoilers*** [but also, this film is from 2010, so...??]

This evening (at time of writing) we watched Knight and Day.

Yes, all the way to the end. This was because I wasn't watching on my own and so my tendency to hit pause or bail was over-ridden by S's tendency to Finish Things. Which makes it sound like we didn't enjoy it. That's not true or fair. I enjoyed it. S enjoyed it rather less.

His conclusion was that it went on for roughly 30 mins too long and since I mostly agree with him, I'd have been okay bailing early.

IMO there are at minimum two action-y sequences more than are really useful. Feels to me like we'd all have been much better off if it could have been Big Fight On A Train *or* Car Chase With Bulls - but not ??both?? Yeah, I get it - we can't have the Gal Gadot set up scene on the train because if we do, probably he could still have delivered CD home in time for her sister's wedding but not the cool little sliver about TC's character being Really Good At Holding His Breath.

Oh, and if we'd stopped early, we'd have missed the Redemption Sequence where TC is the helpless one and CD knocks him out and then rescues him. It's shot for shot deliberately close to the sequence in the middle where he drugs her and spirits her away to his island.

This is important because Drugging Women "For Their Own Good" is WRONG - the film dances a deliberate but tricky line around the question of whether TC is the Bad Guy or a Pure-cut American Hero.

That said, I do VERY much enjoy seeing CD and TC playing off each other - I agree with the observation (from the time, below) that the film is "graced by terrific chemistry from the two romantic leads".

Most of that article is dissecting the dislike of the movie expressed by many contemporary pundits, which the writer links to the TC PR problem still lingering from his sofa-bouncing exploits from 2005.

A good example of the kind of not-love this movie received is still found on the internet, as per this collaged article from August 2023:

Shocking movie-buffs everywhere, the article concludes that this flick was made not for any noble artistic purpose but to cash in on the star power of its leads.

Well, that certainly almost never happens (??). Honestly, if it's amusing, fine by me. Worked for me - if not really for anyone under the age of 30 - with The Fall Guy, for example (earlier blog refers).

What do I like about this movie?

The sparkiness between the leads. YES, definitely. The evidence that he takes good care of people - suggested in how he saves CD in the plane scene near the beginning and resolves the situation with her fireman ex-boyf near the end of the ?second act? - confirmed by how he is revealed to have looked after CD in getting her home and his parents over many years and his persistence in rescuing PD.

The airport scene near the beginning. The reveal about them 'driving' across America (in a car on a delivery lorry). The end.

But far and above all of these moments, it's the plane scene.

Said this to S just after we'd seen it and I'd laughed like a loon from start to finish, but I reeellli do think I'm the perfect, ideal target audience for this sequence. The intersection of the two entirely different movies that the two leads are in / believe they are in... <3

[some-creep]

Random Callie and or Marie headcanons in no particular order with some more evidence based than others. They're mostly uh hmm more Serious than the usual list like this.

I think all inklings have skin spots to some extent, some more noticable than others. Callie and Marie are no exception however the current trend is seeming like you have none so they're both covered in concealer. Marie is naturally less patterned than Callie. Callie isn't used to seeing herself without makeup and is often worried Marie doesn't really like her without it on.

Junk food addict Callie probably developed an eating disorder from her time in the spotlight and being forced to maintain a "proper" weight. When she retired, she eventually ended up gaining weight, which she also feels badly about. Marie reassures her she much prefers her healthy. (And thinks Callie is cuter chubby)

Marie no longer speaks to her parents. They thought her idol dreams were a waste of time so she stopped talking to them after she left for Inkopolis. It's also made her weird about money because for a while, it was just whatever she could make an a runaway 14 year old with big dreams trying to support herself and Callie. They worked together, of course, but Marie still felt obligated to take care of her.

Not only that I think they were emotionally neglectful, and Marie much preferred spending time with her grandpa. It's why she picked up chargers and why she usually seems to be the one more concerned about him. (In octo expansion she joins the chat at the end to ask him what she should make them for dinner)

By contrast Callie's parents were very supportive of her dreams, knowing there wasn't much for them in Calamari County. Still, Callie's mom probably worries a lot. I don't think Callie would tell them about being kidnapped because she knows how badly it would freak them out.

Marie has a peculiar Inkling problem that makes her brain fixate on one particular person as a partner. It's a biological leftover from early Inkling society that required strong pair bonds to ensure species survival. It's mostly vanished in modern society and can be treated if tested for early on. Marie wasn't so lucky and developed with it untreated. Now as an adult her brain has decided she's Callie-sexual above all else. This gives her a strangely intimidating vibe to others and no one can ever really pinpoint why. She's basically two degrees from feral walking around acting totally normal.

This causes her a great deal of distress because she worries Callie only agrees to be with her out of a sense of obligation. Callie reminds her not only is that not the case, they got together before she knew anything about this so how could that even be true.

Callie can and has pursued normal relationships before Marie, but Marie makes her happy and understands all of her hangups and faults.

Callie has nightmares semi regularly after being kidnapped (though she holds no resentment to any of the Octoling soldiers she stayed with).

Marie can't fall asleep before Callie because she needs to be sure of exactly where Callie is before she can relax.

Marie is terrified of someone finding out about them in public. Callie doesn't think anyone is gonna notice if they walk arm in arm. Sensationalist tabloids occasionally print stories suggesting they're dating in secret.

All of Callie's close Octoling friends know they're dating because Octarian society is structured differently so it literally does not matter to them.

Callie never bothered to get her driver's license because Marie has hers + they have drivers for important things.

:) and they love each other very much

[ruki--mukami]

Hello admin. can I ask a question ?

I wanted to see if you draw Yui and Rukiyui's ship as before? In the past, you used to draw a lot of art from these two people, but now, after almost a year has passed, I haven't seen any new art of Yui from you.

And it's also very sad that I see some of fandom completely forget Yui after joined OC and play roleplay. While she is the main character and heroine

Unfortunately, this is much more evident on Tumblr and many fandoms forgot Yui. But I see on Twitter that all the Japanese fandom appreciate Yui and always draw her arts. Almost all Japanese fandoms are more interested in drawing Yui than OC. Please don't get me wrong, I like OCs.

But I will be really sad if OC's role becomes more famous than Yui's and fandom forget her . I just want the fandom on Tumblr to care about Yui like Twitter and the Japanese fandom.

🧩 Hello, Anon. I've only been in the DL fandom for about 4 years and I haven't really seen what the Japanese side of the fandom is like, but I definitely still adore Rukiyui as a ship and I don't intend to quit drawing them altogether. It's undetermined when my next Rukiyui artwork will be since I mostly spend my days writing than drawing but I hope to draw them whenever I have the inspiration for that. I'm a busy adult too and have many friends I wish to draw for, their OCs included. So, it's less a thing against Yui/forgetting about Yui, and more so I've increased in popularity overall since my last Rukiyui art.

Back when I was drawing them a lot more frequently, I really didn't have many friends at all. No one to gush about their OCs with me, and not even anyone to talk about Yui with, either. Not to get overly sentimental, but it was a lonely time for me. I really adored drawing Ruki and Yui together because I drew her in situations I wished to see them in. For the longest time, I admired them silently while distancing myself from many people in the community for personal reasons. I can assure you these two did, and still do, hold a special place in my heart and they always will.

Also, I really do not think Yui is being forgotten whatsoever. Many, many people love her here on Tumblr. I already know for a fact whenever I did a Yui artwork in the past, that she would get way more attention than my art of the boys ever would. Why? Because Yui is seen through positive light as of right now. If you've seen my art, then you might notice the solo Yui artworks gain a lot of traction.

There are also many Yui accounts that are active in this fandom. I don't want to tag them directly since I don't want to bother people's notifications with this particular ask but @/yuikomorii is an amazing blog for all things Yui. You will see she gets hundreds of likes on everything the admin posts as well, from edits to analyses. This just shows that Yui is absolutely thriving.

There's also @/yui--komori who posts Yui-related content and a really active Yui roleplayer in @/diabolikxyui as well as @/yui-komori-ask and her new account. I suggest you check these out as well.

I'm sorry if my words come off as rude or defensive but, back to the topics of the friends I've made here, I also have LOTS of wonderful besties who draw me all kinds of things even when I didn't ask for it. One day, I really, REALLY want to repay them in some way with an art of my own. This involves their OCs.

And please also remember that this is a Ruki-focused blog. The only consistent thing here on this blog is that everything involves Ruki. That means he will interact with both Yui and original characters. There is no favoritism here on this blog, whether you are a canon character or an original one. That's one of my main purposes for making this blog, after all: so that all can interact with Ruki. This is a safe place for everybody.

I'm sure Yui, if she existed, would support an inclusive idea like this. We all pride her on her kindness and pure heart, right? I just want what's best for everyone. It was never my intention to offend anybody with the lack of Yui content here. If you check out my archive, you'll see there are at least 75 posts under the "Yui Komori" tag. That alone is a lot of content to read if you haven't already.

The reason why people make their OCs in the first place is because they want to forge their own story and live vicariously through their characters. Not all people want to do that through Yui, which is completely okay. All my friends adore her, but they don't resonate with her, if that makes sense? As in, they'd rather project through their OCs than her. Let's try to be supportive of both sides here.

Ultimately, I can assure you that Yui Komori will never be forgotten or disrespected on this blog. At least, not out of character, lol. Because we know Ruki can be crazy sometimes. 🧩

[kayla-kai]

As Below, So Above: 7. Elaava

Elaava smelled the corporate shill the second she walked into the staff room that morning. Things were far too clean, and the nervousness on Rigo’s face said everything she needed to know. It was frustrating, it was far too early for any of this song and dance. They should have had more time.   

Elaava kept her face blank, as she went about her normal routine. She was confident that she had covered her tracks. This might necessitate a more careful sweep of her home though. It wasn’t until everyone was in the airlock that she showed her face. A fairly normal woman, from the offset, but wearing the kind of colourful textiles that suggested that she wasn’t the kind of person who ever had to worry about food, or light, or choking on smoke created by someone who couldn’t handle the cold darkness anymore. She was someone who wasn’t used to seeing night ghosts. 

Ahead of her in the crowd, Iyara snuck Elaava a nervous glance, and Elaava gave a small, tiny even, shake of her head in response. They were not friends. They knew nothing about one another. They were coworkers, and nothing else. 

“One of you has betrayed the rest,” the woman had introduced herself as a private detective, Faren, but it must have been the farm bankrolling her. Elaava nearly rolled her eyes at this dramatic start. “One of you is stealing from the company.”

Faren’s sidekick, a kid so unassuming Elaava didn’t even notice they were there before they began to speak, listed off a number of items. They were keeping quite the detailed list. Iyara didn’t even know about some of it yet. One thing that made Elaava curious, was there was no mention of the mask they had managed to acquire, or the camera they had broken. There must be something to gain by not telling the group everything right away. 

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Faren almost sounded earnest. “And I know my investigation will be an invasion of privacy. I know most of you probably had no idea anything was happening, and now you do, you might feel solidarity with the thief, an admiration for the rebellious spirit. You’re probably all overworked and underpaid. But I am only here because someone else is taking what doesn’t belong to them, taking without sharing, leaving you with less supplies and more work. One among you thinks they are better than you, more clever, more cutthroat.”

Faren might have kept talking but Elaava tuned her out. Blah blah, trying to divide the farmers. Relying on them to rat each other out, it meant she didn’t have any real evidence yet. Fine. 

“I have also been doing a sweep of the staff room every night and every morning,” Faren’s toothy smirk snapped Elaava to attention again. “And look what I found one morning, before anyone else arrived.” She held a nail between two fingers, sharp end digging into her thumb.

Elaava clenched her fists to prevent them from shaking with rage. No, no, she was much too good for that. Iyara must have messed up, brought one in his pocket and let it fall out. Did the investigator already know about their homemade bee-hut? There were too many possibilities, too many variables. Elaava stole an angry glance at Iyara, who was already looking at her clenched hands.

“Um,” Iyara’s voice rose out from the crowd. No, not yet! Everything was happening far too soon. “That’s mine, probably.”

“That was quick,” Faren said. “Why don’t we have a chat?”

“Well it’s just, this is a new staff, and my old one was being held together by glue and nails,” Iyara continued. Faren was still trying to urge him out of the group, clearly not expecting him to spill his guts right there. “And I was here during the night because…because…” He turned his eyes downward and actually managed to blush. “I was going to stick a note in someone’s locker, only I chickened out.”

“What note?” Rigo asked. 

“It was…” Alright, Elaava had to admit that Iyara was a good enough liar. He had been a good choice. Except this was going to scare him away. “It was a love letter.” There were snickers from the crowd and Iyara blushed deeper. He started speaking faster. “And I got up to the locker and my staff broke and I thought that it was a sign to give up, so I quickly grabbed the end of the staff and ran, only I must have missed some nails.”

“Alright, alright, let’s talk more in my office,” Faren insisted, and this time Iyara relented and followed her out of the airlock.

[mscaptainwinchester]

2022 Fic Round-Up

Fic Round-Up is shockingly (to me, sort of) short this year, for very good reason. While I got very little writing done until the last two months of this year, I did somehow manage to complete my goal of reaching 1,000,000 words on AO3 this year!! This one has been on the goal list for several of the last years, so reaching it feels amazing! 

I would have liked more actual writing to happen, but a lot of other things happened instead: 

1. I got officially diagnosed with ADHD and have been working with my psychiatrist on figuring out possible meds (so far unsuccessfully. The usual meds work on me as well as coffee, Dramamine, Nyquil, and marijuana does, which is to say there was zero effect. Not shocking considering I have to have double doses of pain meds to get a normal effect. My body’s weird.). Most of my year involved figuring out brain hacks to make my life better. If you want any suggestions that have worked for me or have any of your own you think I should try, lmk.

2. Finally started addressing that I’m pretty sure I’m autistic. It’s been in the back of my brain for a couple of years now, but I didn’t start really looking into it until I started deep-diving on my reactions in regards to ADHD and other things started making a lot more sense. I won’t be pursuing formal diagnosis for a lot of reasons, nor am I likely to talk about it much.  

3. The thing about going to therapy and starting to figure out how your brain works when it works differently than what’s ‘typical’ is a lot of the things that you’ve been covering up with the mask you’ve been wearing your whole life to appear ‘normal’ start poking at you. For me, one of those things was my less than heterosexual interest in women. I’m still fairly certain I’m somewhere on the ace spectrum, but I’m also definitely a lesbian. 

4. I started volunteering at a wildlife rescue clinic. If you’re part of Isn’t It Bromantic, you’ve been privy to weekly photos of the animals I take care of. 

In summary, it’s been an interesting year full of introspection. As a result, I only wrote 32,556 words this year. I’ve read 100 books, and since I finished my feminist committee reading in January, I’m finally back to reading mostly the kinds of books that I’d like to write, which means my creativity is starting to wake back up!

My goals for this year are to finish a draft of the original novel I’ve been plotting since August and average at least 10k month writing. We’ll see how things go.

Now that all that’s out of the way, onto my itty bitty 2022 Fic Round-up:

Came Back Wrong | Wade Wilson | T | 1949

Shard one of his broken heart brings Wade to Wilson Fisk and a fight he never expected to have.

This Is Not a Dinner Party: Chapter 4 | Lucius Malfoy/Ron Weasley | E | 4581

“If” can be a rather powerful word when the circumstances are right. So many things in life might have gone differently, if only there had been an “if.” This fact has never been more evident than in the case of one Sybill Trelawney. Most people believe that if they had not lived, the world would not be significantly altered, and in most cases they would be correct. Sybill Trelawney would have given a similar answer, had anyone bothered to ask—but of course they didn’t. No one would have ever guessed that the fate of the Wizarding World lay in the hands of little, frizzy-haired, dizzy Sybill Trelawney going on a walk.

Total Fics: 2

Total Words: 6530

[staywhelmedbatfam]

I’d Fight Superman Just to Hold Your Hand (2/2)

~Older!Damian Wayne/Kent!Reader~

Summary: Bruce finds out about the date. Of course, teasing of the World's Greatest Detective ensues.

Part One / Part Two (You’re Here)

I had posted this second part on AO3 back in February and felt too lazy to post it here on Tumblr. Now that I’ve graduated college, I have free time again and am remembering to post this! Enjoy.

***

Batman was in the middle of sharing a debriefing with the rest of the Justice League members on the Watchtower. Seeing as he’s Batman, he picked up on Superman’s impatience while he talked. He decided on ignoring it but after ten minutes of constant glances at the clock and thumb-twiddling, Bruce couldn’t take it anymore.

Batman turned to the Kryptonian, calling him out mid-sentence with a hint of irritation in his voice. “Clark. Is there somewhere else you need to be right now?”

“Sorry. I’m just on edge because (Y/N) is on her first date,” he paused and squinted at the Bat before finishing, “With your son.”

Bruce’s eyes widened from surprise beneath his cowl. He recalled Damian requesting not to patrol tonight and saying something about going to Metropolis. Any time something related to dating came up in the Manor, Damian would usually roll his eyes or scowl. Bruce had just assumed he was doing something with Jon. World’s Greatest Detective, everybody.

“What?” he asked with a deadpan expression, his tone flat – maybe a little disbelieving. It was more of a rhetorical question than a genuine query.

Flash spoke up before anyone else could. “Woah, hold on a minute. Robin is dating (Y/N)?”

“You two could end up becoming in-laws,” Hal chimed in with an amused grin. Batman let out his usual annoyed grunt as he narrowed his eyes at him. Superman also gave his own glare. “Too soon?”

A moment passed and Clark turned back to Bruce with a surprised expression. “You really had no idea?” When there was no response, he continued. “Damian approached me a week and a half ago, asking for permission to take her on a date.”

“Kid’s got moves,” Flash mumbled to himself.

Bruce ignored Barry’s comment. “I see…”

***

Having returned to the Batcave from the League meeting, Bruce sat in front of the Batcomputer. He was doing some research and typing out case notes, but those weren’t the only things on his mind. His conversation with Clark has been replaying ever since he left the Watchtower.

Drawing him from his thoughts, Alfred entered the cave and came walking over with a tray in his hands. “Would you care for some refreshments, sir?”

“No. Thank you, Alfred.”

“Say, Alfred…” Bruce suddenly said after a pause – stopping Alfred from walking away – and sat back to stare at the computer screen for a brief moment before turning to the butler. “Did you know that Damian and (Y/N) were going on a date tonight?”

“Of course, sir. You didn’t?” he replied, surprise lacing his words and evident on his face.

“I–,” Bruce sighed then shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No…”

“Perhaps you should spend more time with Master Damian as his father and less time as the Batman.” Alfred began walking away again without receiving a response to his suggestion.

***

Lois was still awake doing some late-night work on the couch when Clark got home from the meeting. He plopped down next to her and let his head slump over onto her shoulder. She took one glance at her husband and shut her laptop, sitting it on the cushion next to her.

“What are you so mopey for? You have to face the fact that our daughter has grown up.” Clark let out a grumbled denial.

“But why did it have to be Damian?”

Rolling her eyes, Lois tried to cheer him up. “Look at it this way – we don’t have to worry about telling anyone else about the ‘Super’ secret. Oh, and she was in the door exactly at ten.”

There was a brief silence and then Clark mumbled, “He always has been very punctual.” He let out a heavy sigh. “It feels like it was just yesterday when she walked through the door for the first time.”

“Now she’s graduated high school and starting college in the fall. It makes me feel old,” Lois responded. Clark nodded in agreement.

The two of them remained on the couch in silence. Sometimes light conversation would break up the quiet, but it wasn’t necessary for them to talk. They just enjoyed sitting with each other for a bit longer before going to bed.

Masterlist

Tag List: @drayshadow @gryffindorqueensworld @instabull​

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[petre-chose-violence]

Today on "Bad takes and how to counter them":

(Aka collection of my based takes on)

Mischaracterization of the Syndicate. (and it's members)

(Because I am bored)

/all names reffer to dsmp characters unless explicitly stated otherwise.

"Secret Police" - Their only rule is don't oppress people. Like, that's it. They defend no system and protect no bourgeoisie. In fact, they are very lenient with what regimes they consider worth toppling, seeing as Snowchester still exists.

"The organization in general/any member in particular is Capitalists/Ancap" - They own their own means of production, they work for their stuff themselves, they don't stand in the way of anyone doing the same themselves. Villagers are a game mechanic, as horrible as the implications are, for all intents an purposes, story included, they are not people. That is just how the game unfortunately is.

"They are not friends, they met like 2 times" - Technobirthday Stream is right there, it's called quality over quantity. Also 3/4 Syndicate members were friends for a long time now, only Niki is somewhat new to the group.

"They are the 1%" - *reffer back to capitalist take. There is nothing wrong with having opinions even if you are wealthy/skillful.

Technoblade

"Is violent" - the only non violent characters on the server are Ponk, Ranboo and the new ones. Techno is actually consistently seen trying to minimize casualties of every conflict he was involved in, from the battle of the lake when he suggested Tommy just return the fish, to Doomsday when he made it clear that everyone who doesn't want to die can just leave.

"Doesn't try negotiation" - Except on Nov 16th. And before & after his execution on Dec 16th. And when he stalled for 3+ minutes on the Red Festival. And when he didn't just kill Tommy for being in his house.

"Has no character development" - Over the course of the story he goes All problems can be solved by punching them hard enough, including bad communication. -> Violence sucks actually. Trusting people too. -> Maybe I should try to do a little bit of violence and a tiny bit of trusting people. -> Incredible Violence is Pog when you do it together with trustworthy people. But it's not a good look. Need more trustworthy people. This is more of an ark then 85% of dsmp has. It's like 3 arks cramped together. And we skipped tons of less apparent stuff, like his paranoia.

"Doesn't do mutual aid" - ... to the people he just fought against. And that is a flaw indeed! But other than that? Pogtopia, Tommy, Syndicate. I'd say he's pretty mutual aid-y.

"Doesn't regret his actions" - One) Should he? Two) He does.

"Doesn't loose" - Won once, on Doomsday. Nov 16th, Execution were significant loses, both spiritually and materially.

"Should've seen NLM coming, overblown reaction to Pogtopia becoming a gvt, can't be mad on them for hurting his feelings" - Seen that coming and do what, exactly? Leave and let the rebellion be annihilated? From in character POV, it would've been a "lesser evil" kind of deal. OOC - there is no way Pogtopia could've defeated invisible God-appleded Dream without Techno's stuff. And tactically it would make perfect sense to help one enemy defeat the other and then kick it while it down.

Material side to the side, all of the above would take place if Techno was to learn or acknowledge Pogtopia's true intentions. To my, flawed, human knowledge the only character seen mentioning making a new government instead of Manburg near Techno was Wilbur, who later was all "Total destruction! Anarchy Bros!" so that takes care of that.

And still, if not, if all the evidence was for him to see, maybe yes, maybe Technoblade did know it to some degree. Maybe is lonely, and is desperately clinging to the best resemblance of companionship he've experienced until he could no longer deny its flaws. Maybe he did grow attached to these people he worked with before learning their unfortunate true colours! Maybe he did hope that he just misread some sighns up until when the truth was mockingly shoved into his face! Maybe Mr. "# 2 biggest anxiety wreck ever" couldn't gather enough willpower to confront his comrades about it! Maybe he was head deep in denial! Maybe being forcibly removed from the comfort of such delusion can hurt a little!

DISCLAIMER: If you end up using the a little emotionally charged reading right above remember - it is not, Tommy's, Tubbo's or even, maybe, Wilbur's fault. By that take they manipulated Techno, but they didn't do that consciously or maliciously. Circumstances are just like that.

(If this results in appearance of YandareBlade /srs takes i am going to start biting)

Philza

"Just follows Technoblade" - Fights against Techno on Nov 16th. Joins Doomsday against Techno's wishes.

*conscious decision on the part of the creator to not cover anything Wilbur related, because I'm tired of it*

Ranboo

"Is afraid of Technoblade & Philza" - they had several adventures and tons of fun with them. He willingly remainins their neighbor despite the existence of alternatives. They were the only people he trusted with having Disks. He didn't even trust his husband with that one.

Niki

"Not anarchist, just wants friends" - 1st, whats wrong with that? Syndicate is like the only not fucked friend group organization whose members didn't directly contribute to Niki's mental problems on the server. 2nd, no, have you listened to her recruitment? It goes like this - Techno: "Governments are bad because of xyz", Niki: "True!" Also, she was against Manburg and played a part in destroying NLM, so she has a pretty anti government track record. This whole post.

"Just does whatever she is told" - Her whole Manburg ark is right there, where did this even come from?

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

i.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

late night calls

Summary: It all started with a phone call to the DEA office to tell Javier about the surgery of his father. You had insisted to take care of him after Chucho told you about the surgery. That you would fall in love with his son you had never met before? Just as surprising to you as it was to Javier.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Plus size reader

Wordcount: 4.1k+

Warnings: fluff, phone sex, mentions of bomb attacks, sexism, self doubt, yearning?

A/N: I know that probably more time passed between the bombing and Javier being send back to the states but I chose to ignore it. For the plot. Hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist

*taglist in reblog

You still weren’t used to the heat. Yes, you did move to Texas because you wanted a fresh start. But the fucking heat would take some time to get used to. Nothing was holding you back in Maine. You had spent the last years taking care of your sick mother. She had died just before Christmas and with her all the family you had left. 

So coming with the new year you took a leap of faith, packed your things, and moved to a little town close to the Mexican border. You got a job at the local police station as a secretary that made a decent sum of money each month. Life was good. At least you told yourself so. 

You had made a couple of friends. Mostly the older generation of the town. You weren’t big on going out, nor had the town a big nightlife in the first place. That’s why you insisted on taking care of Chucho after he told you one day at the diner that he had to get a hip replacement. His wife had died a long time ago and his son wasn’t able to leave work.

“Don’t you have some better stuff to do cariño?” He had asked.

“What better way to start your day than on your Farm, Senior Peña.” You had winked at him.

Chucho might have been a stubborn old man, but once he got out of surgery and was in pain he was thankful that he accepted your help. That was also the first time you heard him talk about his son. Javier.

“Be a dear and call him to tell him I’m okay?” He had mumbled before he dozed off again. You had chuckled, kissed his cheek before you left him for the day to went over to his farm. Once you had taken care of everything for the day you sat down on his kitchen island and grabbed the phone, dialing the first number he had written down.

You had suggested moving into his place in his recovery time. It was a beautiful place. Mexico was just on the other side of the river down the property. But the best part about this place was the air conditioning. Okay… You really loved this place and it definitely was an upgrade to the small apartment you were renting in the city. 

Waiting for his son to pick up the phone you wondered what kind of job he would have that he wasn’t able to take care of his father. You didn’t judge him, okay maybe a little, you were more curious. You had seen some pictures of him spread through the house. But you had never asked about him.

“DEA Office, how may I help you?” A woman answered your call.

“Uhm… Is Javier Peña available? It’s about his father,” you tried.

“Oh of course. Agent Peña just got in. Please hold.”

Agent Peña? DEA? You had so many questions but they died on your tongue when the call connected again.

“This is Peña.” A deep voice said. He reminded you of his father.

“Hello Mr. Peña. I’m only calling to let you know that your father’s surgery went fine. He wanted me to forward this to you.”

“Javier, please. Not even my father likes to be called Mr. Peña.” 

“Oh I noticed that,” you chuckled.

“He’s fine yeah?” You heard something shuffle on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah. Already made some jokes and told me to make sure I feed the horses in the right order.”

“You’re taking care of the horses?”

“Yeah. I’m temporarily moving in to help your father.”

“That’s very nice of you. He never told me about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.” You got up and took out a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m only here for the air conditioning.” You joked. He laughed.

“Fuck I miss air conditioning. Hold on.” You sat down again, hearing only damp voices.

“Fuck. I need to go. Please call me if something comes up. Dad has my home number too, right?” He was speaking quickly and you wondered what was happening. 

“Yes, he wrote it down for me. Everything okay?”

“Yeah hopefully. Just some work stuff. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Will do Javier.”

Chucho got home a week later and he was the worst at listening to doctors’ orders. You still had to go into the station to work, but you spend your whole time worrying about him. It was funny to you how he seemingly had become a father figure to you in less than a couple of weeks. 

Of course you found him standing at the kitchen counter when you got to the ranch, the phone tugged between his shoulder and his ear, making himself a sandwich.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I was. Then Javi called and I got hungry.” 

“Stubborn old man,” you grumbled and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, I brought dinner.”

“Fine. Here. Javi wants to say Hello,” he handed you the phone before he slowly trotted towards the couch. Shaking your head you put the phone to your ear.

“You are really strict with him,” Javier said.

“Someone has to. Are all you Peña men this stubborn?” 

He chuckled. “You have no idea. How is he doing?”

“Overall good. Not complaining as much as in the beginning but then again I am bribing him with my delicious cooking.”

Javier and you had spoken to each other at least two times per week since the first time you called to tell him about his father’s surgery. You learned that he was a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar. You learned that he was feeling guilty about not being there for his father and to take care of the ranch. You learned lots of things about Javier Peña. 

“Ah... Delicious cooking. Maybe one day you get to cook for me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You teased, hearing him take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably. 

“Just that my father is praising your cooking so much I wonder if it really is that good.”

“Oh, it is, Peña.” You found yourself smiling. You heard him sigh.

“Everything’s okay over there?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. Definitely a lie. You nodded.

“You wanna stay on the phone while I prepare dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

The better Chucho got, the longer the phone calls between Javier and you seem to get. It was mostly at night after he got home from whatever he had been doing at work that day intending to check in on his father. But after a few sentences, he asked about your day. About how you felt. What your plans for the coming weekend were. 

“You sound exhausted Hermosa,” he sighed. It had been a long day at work and all you wanted was to grab a pint of ice cream and drown your sorrows.

“Just the usual sexist bullshit at the PD,” you groaned.

“Want me to kill them?” Javier joked.

“You take care of your nemesis, I take care of mine. But I appreciate the help.” You sat down on your bed, knowing that this was usually the room he occupied when he was here to visit his father. 

“Noted. But if it’s any help, I had a shit day too. They seem to get more frequent the longer I stay in this shithole.”

“Maybe you have to focus on the good things of being in this country. There have to be some. The food probably. I always enjoy new food. Maybe go to a museum? I don’t want to intrude but you don’t seem like you do anything besides work and well…”

It was pure accident that you had heard the voice of a woman one night when you had called him for a change. You knew that he looked good, you had seen the pictures, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you, that he did have a girlfriend. He clarified that he didn’t, that this was just a woman he got intel from. You didn’t ask any more questions, it wasn’t your right. That it hurt to think of him and another woman was something you chose to ignore.

“I never thanked you,” Javier said. You let yourself fall back into bed, staring at the stars outside the window.

“What for?” you asked quietly.

“Thanking care of Dad and the ranch. Listening to my drunken ramblings. You’re a good friend,” he said. You smiled, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

“You’re a good friend too, Javi.”

Chucho didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Not when he was back to his old health after a couple of months. But he had asked you to move in with him anyway. And you loved to live with the old man. Enjoying not being on your own all the time. And you loved helping him out at the ranch. The PD was still getting on your nerves and you were seriously considering just quitting.

“I hate it. I fucking hate it. I get one dumb line after another, just because I’m a woman. That I helped to get together the evidence to put that fucker away that killed all those women last year is not even of interest. FUCK!” you complained to Chucho. He knew about all of this already. Yet he jumped from his seat when he saw that you did cut yourself while making dinner.

“Careful.” He took your hand in his, leading you over to the sink to look at your wound. It didn’t hurt that much. 

“What about if I take care of dinner today, and you go and take a bath? Javier is probably gonna call in a bit…” Chucho winked, putting a bandaid on your finger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned.

“Just that I see the way you smile every time my son calls.”

“Two whole days off? What are you gonna do with yourself?” You joked. You were laying in the bathtub, the phone in your hand as you talked to Javier.

“Don’t know. I feel like I need a home-cooked meal so I’m gonna nag Connie to cook one.”

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“Is that water I hear?” he asked and you blushed. Why? You didn’t know. You had undressed numerous times while on the phone with him, but being completely naked and him knowing about it…

“I’m in the bathtub. Chucho’s orders. He’s making dinner before I kill myself doing it.”

You were met with silence.

“You okay, Javi?” You sucked your bottom lip in. “I did only cut my finger,” you joked.

“Just trying to get the picture of you naked in the bathtub out of my head.”

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Doesn’t matter. All I need is to hear your voice and I’m hard…”

“Javi…” you whispered, feeling hot all of the sudden.

“Will you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“If you think about me? Because you are on my mind all the time. I keep picturing how you look. If you have long hair or short hair. What color your eyes have. If your smile is only half as beautiful as your laugh. Fuck… I just wanna see you. I wanna feel you. I wanna taste you Hermosa.” 

Unintentionally your unoccupied hand had made its way down your body, your breath coming in short pants.

“Keep talking Javier…” you whispered, your hand slipping in between your legs.

“I want to touch you. Fuck I bet your skin is so soft. I’d worship you. I stay up at night wondering if I could fit your boobs in my hands. What sound you would make when I close my mouth around your nipple…”

“Shit Javi…” You moaned.

“I wonder how you taste. Are you wet for me baby?” he asked and you heard a zipper being undone on his end of the line.

“So wet. You always make me wet. I touch myself when we get off the phone, wondering how it would feel to have you here…” you whimpered.

“I would have fucked you on every flat surface in the house if I was there. The thought of you sleeping in my bed is making me lose my mind.”

You circled your clit with your fingers, a low moan coming from your lips.

“I wonder how you feel wrapped around my cock. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum. I want to hear it so badly…” You were sure he was fucking his hand and you whimpered at the thought.

“I wish it was my hand wrapped around your big cock right now. God, I wish it was your hand between my legs and not mine…” You bit your lips, keeping yourself quiet.

“Put two fingers into that cunt and make yourself cum. I wanna hear you…” he groaned on the phone. 

“Fuck Javi…” you cried quietly, two fingers inside your cunt. “I wish it was your cock and not my fingers.”

“Me too… Me too babe.” he moaned. “Circle that clit for me. Cum for me.”

Circling your clit you almost let the phone fall into the tub when you came with a low moan. You heard him cry out your name on the other end of the line before all that was heard was both of your heavy breathing. 

“Javi…?” you asked after a while, still high from one of the best orgasms you ever had. You heard the familiar sound of him lighting a cigarette.

“I meant every single word Hermosa. I want you.” You never thought you would hear these words from him or any man for that matter. You weren’t a typical beauty. You weren’t skinny, you loved food and your curves showed it. On most days you were happy with the way you looked. But you also knew how Javier looked. He was an attractive man and you knew he did indeed have a new woman every other night if he felt like it. He might be interested now, but once he would meet you, there was no way he would make true to all the things he said.

“You’re quiet.” he noticed.

“Yeah. Just coming down from the best orgasm I’ve had in a while,” you joked and he sighed.

“I might not see you, but I know that you’re lying.”

“Okay, it was the best orgasm I ever had.”

“Hermosa…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me enjoy the illusion of a handsome DEA Agent being interested in little ol’ me.”

“I’ll make sure you believe that it isn’t an illusion until we do see each other.”

Months went by and by now you were pretty sure you were in love with Javier Peña. The phone bill was taking dimensions you were almost guilty about, but Chucho only smiled not taking your money, telling you to make his boy happy. Safe to say he approved.

You had told him about your insecurities and Javier made sure to tell you every time you talked to each other that it didn’t matter how you looked. He told you that you could be green and he’d still go down on you the first time he would meet you.

And you wanted to believe him, you really did. You had told him how you looked after he tried to talk you into sending pictures of yourself “with or without clothes, I don’t care. Though you can guess what I prefer.” he had teased. Javier never made a secret about how much he liked you. Enjoyed talking to you. He told you he had stopped sleeping around for god’s sake. 

He was supposed to visit his father in a couple of weeks and the more time passed, the more nervous you became. You didn’t doubt that he meant every single word he said to you. It was years of being on the receiving end of jokes and being the ugly friend that automatically let you feel like you weren’t good enough.

The worst part was that you knew, deep down, that you were beautiful. You loved how you looked. But there still was this voice inside your head, telling you that you would never be good enough for anyone. That there was no way someone would ever fall in love with you.

It was a typical morning at work. You had your coffee and all the files you had to update. Javier had talked to you until you fell asleep, telling you that he felt like he was failing in taking Escobar down. He didn’t tell you much, not wanting you to worry or to risk someone listening, but you could tell that he was exhausted. “I fucked up, Hermosa. I really fucked up and I have no idea how to fix this,” were the words that he had whispered to you in the middle of the night. 

You didn’t ask what he meant, just telling him that you’d be there for him, no matter what.

Typing as usual you stopped as the song on the radio was, interrupted by a news report of a bombing in Bogota, Colombia. You knew that there were bombings all the time over there, and Javier always assured you that he was perfectly fine. But with how he was last night, you had a bad feeling.

“Fuck. When are they going to stop that shit over there? If I was there I’d caught Escobar years ago,” one of the officers said. You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply.

“Isn’t Chucho’s son over there pretty face?” The officer stopped in front of your desk and you opened your eyes.

“Yeah he is,” you said.

“Maybe if he would know how to do his job, shit like that wouldn’t go down like that,” he grinned and you wanted to stop, but your hand was faster. Slapping his cheek you got off your seat.

“And maybe if you would know how to use your dick your wife wouldn’t fuck your colleague over there, but you’ll never know, right?” You grinned, picking your purse and walking out.

“I’m taking today off.” You yelled over your shoulder as you walked to your car.

Javier didn’t pick up the phone. Which wasn’t what concerned you on the first day. He would have to deal with the shit that had happened over there. But when three days passed and you could see Chucho getting nervous as well you became restless. The ranch had never been so spotless. The horses had been fed in record time, and you took long rides along the river. If something had happened to him someone would have called, right? You couldn’t even reach his partner Murphy who you had talked to occasionally when Javier wasn’t at his desk. 

When a week passed and you hadn’t heard anything you were close to making your way to the airport to just fly down there. What if he died? What if he was gone and you hadn’t told him that you loved him? That you fell in love with a man you had never met before? Getting off the horse you sat down at the tree closest to the river. It was quiet here. This was the outer area of Chucho’s ranch, your favorite spot. You had joked about building a house here once when you were out with the old man and he had agreed that it would be the perfect spot. Sighing you drank from the bottle of water you brought.

Where the fuck are you Javier?

Another week went by without any sign of life from him. You had called the DEA office again but no one seemed to be able to give you an answer. You were growing restless. Working seemed to be the only thing that could get you off the spiraling thoughts of what if? You really had it bad for the man. Shaking your head to yourself you sighed as you parked your car on the usual spot in front of the ranch. Chucho’s truck was gone, he had a doctor's appointment to check on his hip and would meet his lady friend for dinner afterward. You had met her, Estella, once. She was a beautiful woman and Chucho seemed very happy with her. With a sad smile you killed the engine, getting out of the car. On your way to the house you groaned, turning around because you forgot your take out. You weren’t in the mood to cook and the pizza from that place that Javier had told you about was the best you had ever had. While you opened the passenger door of your car you heard the front door of the house open.

Shit. Burglars? You didn’t have anything on you, you could use as a gun. You knew you could probably make it to the horse stable to find something, but not in these fucking heels. Why did you wear these fucking heels? Maybe you could make them choke on the pizza? But then again you were looking forward to eating it. 

“Just take what you want, I won’t look.” You called over your shoulder, hoping to just be spared for the day. Closing your eyes you sighed when you were met with no reaction. You heard footsteps on the porch that stopped.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit today. So either take whatever the fuck you want or kill me….” you turned around and all the words died on your lips.

Standing there, leaning against the porch was no other than Javier fucking Peña. Alive. And looking even better than on the various pictures hanging in the house. He was bare feet, wearing tight jeans and a green shirt that was half undone. Opening your mouth to talk, all that came out was a gasp. He looked at you, his eyes mirroring the million emotions inside of you. Looking down at yourself you felt shy all of the sudden. This isn’t how you imagined meeting him for the first time. You wanted to be pretty. To wear some spanx. To have some make-up on. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep. You were happy to see him, you really were. But the ride of emotions you had gone through in the last couple of days took hold of you. Walking quickly towards him, you pushed against his chest, the air leaving his lungs in a puff.

“You fucking idiot. I thought you died.” You pushed him again.

“Do you have any idea how awful I felt since I heard the news of the bombing? You…” You pushed against his chest again, but this time he was faster, grabbing your wrists as he looked down at you. You felt the tears in your eyes as you finally looked up at him. Almost a year of phone calls and now he was standing here in front of you. Alive and warm. And smelling so fucking good.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding both of your wrists against his chest as he looked at you. 

“I should have called but I told you I fucked up. Badly. And I had to fix it and…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here and fuck… you’re even more beautiful than I pictured you,” he smiled a little.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” You huffed, still annoyed.

“No?” he asked teasingly, smirking at you as he leaned down. You shook your head, biting your lip. God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“Can I at least try?” he asked, his lips brushing over your temple. You swallowed, shivering when you felt his cheek against yours. Fuck. Why did he smell so good?

“You may try, but I’m really, really mad at you Javier.”

You closed your eyes when he released your wrists and put one of his hands on your back to push you closer against him. He kissed your cheek before he straightened to his full height and looked down at you, his other hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“You’re really sexy when you’re angry,” he teased before he leaned down to kiss you. You melted against him, your hands running up his chest, holding on to the back of his neck as one hand ran through his hair, to pull him down. Kissing him didn’t come close to anything you could have imagined, his tongue parting your lips and you couldn’t help the moan against his lips. 

“Still angry?” he whispered out of breath against your lips.

“Slightly less angry,” you whispered back before you found yourself in his arms as he carried you into the house.

[bibbykins]

Penumbric Commitments (M)

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! I wrote this up real quick yesterday, so please forgive any lacking in quality, but I had the idea and absolutely sprinted with it! I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next full length fic I post, which I gave a not so little hint in here to!

Warnings: 18+, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, yelling, rough sex, light bondage, the usage of a belt as wrist restraints (consensual), brief fingering, male cumming inside, talking about not wanting a child, daddy kink, threatening to leave, offering to kill someone, semi-graphic talks of killing someone

Word count: 3.8k

Genre: Soft Yandere, Mafia! Au

Summary: Hindsight says Namjoon so easily complying with not having children was too easy considering his position in the business and the nightmare his parents had readily become. What you didn't realize was how far Namjoon was willing to prove to you he meant what he said that day: all you both ever need is each other.

Note: this is a canon drabble apart of the Silhouetted Bonds fic linked here

It's times like these that you regret getting a traditional clock. The ticking was incessant and daunting. It felt like it was getting closer and closer to your ear with the deafening silence it was slicing through. Analogs had to be the way to go, or better yet, none at all. The last thing you needed right now was a reminder of how much time has been spent at this table. Namjoon had sprinted home the moment his mother called him after your meeting with her. 

----

"Mrs. Kim, always a pleasure." You shook the older woman's hand with a tight smile. 

She returned yours with an equally fake smile, "Please, you know you can call me mother." She chided, but nevertheless you stayed silent as you sat back down at the table in your home. It used to be mom.

It was 8 a.m. your mother in law wanted to meet, so to be petty, you stated 9 a.m. would be great. It's a shame that your relationship with her came to this, but truthfully, it was far from your fault.

While in the beginning she had been like a mother to you, things quickly took a steep downturn the moment Namjoon reintroduced you into his life. The woman who had once been lively, rebellious, and took charge became a demure, stoic, and merely content wife. She had given you talks about your duty as the wife of the boss and the expectations she expected you to fulfill nowadays as opposed to telling stories of her youth and teaching you how to bake eccentric treats. She had even admonished you for leaving Namjoon, an idea she gave you really. Since then, she had always stated your allegiance to the business and your own husband had yet to be proven in her eyes. The notion struck you to only provide her with business professional talks.

You had always known her and Namjoon's father had been a marriage of convenience, but there seemed to be intense love between them, at least at one point. You're not sure when that collapsed in your absence, and sure you felt bad,but you did not care for her patronizing tones. If Namjoon wouldn't retaliate, she almost definitely would've had you killed the moment you decided to leave her precious son. 

"Now, I understand you're a busy woman, so I'll be chaste." She spoke as she took her seat, giving you a pointed look, "Do you feel as though you've made up for your betrayal?" This was obviously a trick question in her eyes, the simple answer being no.

However, you couldn't care less, "I have never betrayed anyone close to me, including Namjoon, if that's what you mean." You met her eyes with valor, "I don't see why you feel the need to ask such a silly question each time I see you." 

She laughed humorlessly, "Maybe I'm hoping for the right answer to cross your stubborn mind." Truly, if Namjoon didn't love and cherish his parents so much you would've told her to fuck off and mind her business, maybe focus on her own shitty marriage, by now. Alas, Namjoon was a people pleaser and fiercely intent on being a filial son.

"You mean your answer to the question about how I feel?" You raised a brow, "Even when apart from Namjoon, I took no other man. I've never even lied to Namjoon, I've been nothing but an honest and hardworking wife after forgiving his own shortcoming in honesty." You watch her fist clench in her lap at the suggestion of her precious boy having a shortcoming of any sort, "A shortcoming well remedied, seeing as I'm still here." You chided lightly in spite of the heavy tension. You pitied your staff in this moment for having to watch this battle of wills.

"Sometimes husbands lie to… protect, their wives." She struggled to find the right words as she regurgitated what Namjoon's father undoubtedly told her one too many times. Misery loves company, and goodness, did she want you to be as miserable as her.

You returned her fake smile two fold before speaking, "That's lovely, but I don't need protecting from my husband, I need trust, honesty, respect." The final word made her back straighten, "I'd like to live in reality with him, not be shielded from it, but I respect what you wish for your own marriage, but this is what I like for mine." 

She hummed in faux thought, "Very well, I can leave you to reflect on what marriage should be, you're still so young." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "However, you're not that young…" This was a new addition, "When will I be receiving a grandchild?" 

Your brows furrowed. Namjoon told you she took the news of no grandchildren quite well. He told you that she was informed of your no children rule mere days after you spoke the words. The radio silence on the topic of children each time you met with either of his parents confirmed much for you, and you had even found yourself quite proud of him for standing his ground with you. Surely, his parents are not nearly old enough to be so forgetful.

This was the first question in a while that made you falter, and you could see the satisfaction she gained from it, "Grandchildren? I'm unsure what you-"

"Namjoon told me the last time I visited him in prison, you wanted to wait for your fifth wedding anniversary before trying for children, isn't that coming up quite soon?" She raised a brow and you felt your heart shatter. 

He lied to you. Again. He lied to you mere moments after you were ready to forgive him for lying to you the first time.

You let out a bitter laugh, "He did now?" She nodded and you shut your eyes for a moment, "It seems I've been made a fool of again." You sighed before looking as confusion crossed your mother-in-law's features, "I told Namjoon the very last time I visited him in prison that I did not want kids, ever."

"You know that's not possible for him, he's a successor." She laughed at your boldness.

"You know that he is an adult man with 6 brothers, biological or not, who will all marry one day, surely one of them will adopt or have a child." She scoffed at this, "I got my tubes tied years ago." This wiped the smile off her face.

"Does Namjoon know about this?" She snapped and you nodded with a bitter smile.

"He accompanied me to the appointment for moral support." You shot back.

"Well, your tubes can be untied and-"

"No." You deadpanned.

"No?" She mimicked in disbelief.

 "If Namjoon requires a child, he will also require a new wife." Your voice was cold and you watched shock settle into the woman across from you, "With his habit of lying coming to light, he may have to find a new wife regardless."

She stood, "Don't be-"

"Please, do not waste your breath on orders I will not be following." You held your hand up to silence her.

"I'll call Namjoon, he can talk this out with you, so you can see things our way." She tried to sound reassuring as one of your staff rushed to see her out respectfully when you did not budge from your seat.

You stayed seated at the mahogany table, staring at your wedding ring. You didn't want to get a divorce. You loved Namjoon, more than anything, and yet, did he love you more than anything?

----

You're not sure how long you stayed there, questioning everything, but it was enough time for Namjoon to come home. He ripped the door open, eyes searching frantically, ready to make sure you had not already left him before his eyes landed on your figure. From there, he took his seat across from you at the table and waited until he could no longer take the silence.

"Are you going to say anything?" Your husband's voice was calm, although fear was evident in his timbre.

You sucked your teeth and shrugged, continuing to look at your freshly manicured nails, "What's there to say?" Your voice was short, as if you were already tired of the conversation before it could even start, "You lied to me."

Your husband dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "Junebug, I'm sorry, I-"

"You embarrassed me, again." You look at him for the first time all night with a sharp glare, "Are you trying to find an excuse to divorce or do you just not care about me?" 

"Neither!" His head shot up and he met your eyes with deep regret when he realized you were looking at him with the anger and hurt he found you with all this years ago, "I love you, more than anything-"

"Obviously not!" You snapped, "Do you have any idea how it feels to explain to your shitty and judgy mother in law that, in spite of what her precious son said, you had no plans to have children, that you got your fucking tubes tied?!" Namjoon sighed, either in shame or pain, "Were you just hoping that would come around? That I'm such a fickle woman that I don't mean what I say?" 

His brows furrowed, "No, if I thought that, why did I let you get your tubes tied?!"

"Let me?" Your voice was mockingly soft, "You let me, huh?" You cocked your head slightly and he closed his eyes in frustration, "How fucking charitable of you, my sweet husband, master of the fucking house, to let your dumb little wife make a choice for her body!" You stood, "How considerate of you to play supportive husband only to fold the moment your mother asks you a question-"

"You know what my duty as the only son is!" It was his turn to raise his voice, but he immediately regretted it as he saw your eye twitch.

"And you knew my stance on kids before you got out of prison." You seethed, "You know why I don't want a fucking kid, nor do I plan to fold on my stance, because I'm all I've got left there." Namjoon's mouth parted slightly before he pressed his lips together.

"It's not my fault you don't want a kid because you'd be a bad mother just like your own." The words left his mouth before he could even begin to consider the repercussions. He was about to open his mouth again to back track wildly, but it was far too late as you took a step back, the weight of his words being too much to take from across the table.

He watched hurt consume your irises for only the second time in his life, the first time being mere hours before you left him for years, before you made him promise to never betray you like that again as a condition for you to come back to him. A condition that he evident did not adhere to in your eyes. "Do you want to know what made my mother such a bad mother?" He watched as the embers of rage within your eyes were only stoked by his reflection in your pupils, although he could see a thin layer of moisture begin to build up, pain, "You know, like I would be?" Your words were almost mocking as he stayed eerily still, "An unsupportive, isolating, and shitty sorry excuse for a fucking husband." Your word hit him like a truck.

Unsupportive. Isolating. Sorry excuse for a husband.

You weren't wrong right now. He felt shitty. He knew he should've just stood his ground. His parents didn't matter if it meant losing you, "I didn't mean that, what I said about-"

"You're right." A tear fell and he felt his heart shatter, "So if you want a kid, it'll have to be with someone else."

"I don't want anyone else, I never have!" He made his way to you as you weakly stepped back, "You're all I need." His voice was soft as he went to grab your hand, but you pulled away.

"You said that last time." Your tears were beyond your control as you wiped at them in vain, "You said that mere days before you told your mom that we were going to have kids and you told me your mom took the news well." You sniffled, "You lied to me, I can't believe that you lied to me and let me just walk around like a fool believing you, again!" 

He was stunned silent again. You were right. He had lost his back bone under the strict gaze of his parents and folded under pressure. He betrayed you, and all he could do was hope for your forgiveness.

You shook your head as he remained mute, "I need some time." You went to walk past him and to the door but he engulfed you in a hug, "Namjoon!" You struggled weakly to pull him from you but froze when you heard a sniffle.

"Please, don't go." He begged as he held you close, "I can't lose you again, I'm so sorry, please."

You fought sobs from escaping your mouth, "You lied to me, and your mom-"

"I'll kill her if you want me to." He spoke and your blood ran cold at his tone. He was serious, "My mom and my dad, I'll tell them we're not having children and if they can't handle that, they can leave us alone or die."

Your eyes were wide, tears frozen in time. Namjoon loved his parents. He was always a kid intent on surpassing their expectations, and he had made that clear to you when you started dating in highschool. You were his only sign of rebellion. He was intended to marry a woman from an affluent family, but he met you. You had figured that would be where his rebellion ended, but here he was, handing his parent's hearts in your hands and awaiting orders.

"Joonie, y-you can't mean-" You sputtered to reason but he only held you tighter.

"Or even if you just want me to kill them, I will, with my own hands of course, nobody else can know." His remained headstrong in his resolve, stroking your hair, "I don't care what I have to do to keep you with me." He kissed the top of your head, "You are the only person, the only thing on this Earth that matters to me I cannot live without you." 

A sick, and extremely twisted part of you wanted to call your mother-in-law and say, "Hah!" You wanted to rub it in her face that her son, in spite of everything, chose you. Her precious boy has been yours for years now. However, your sanity slipped through the cracks as you shook your head again.

"You love your parents." You shook your head as you cried into his chest, "And if you felt that way, why would you lie to me?"

He sniffled, "I was weakened, not 100% sure you would truly accept me with open arms and I panicked when they asked." He sighed, "I know it's pathetic and I know I seemed like I knew we would make it, but I didn't know that. They never brought it up after that so I naively thought they would forget and when they asked me again, I would tell them the truth and-"

"You're so stupid." You cried harder into his chest and felt him nod, "If you're scared to face your parents, tell me, and we'll do it together." You were surely ruining his dress shirt, but he stroked your hair soothingly, "Your mom has been calling me a shitty wife for years and after today, she must truly believe it, and I-I should take some time-" Namjoon held you, arms sliding down your body as he got down to his needs and you felt your heart drop, and you gasped, "Stop, don't-" 

You tried to help him up but he grabbed your wrists as he looked up at you with tear stained cheeks and eyes as wet as yours, shaking his head at your frantic protests as he kissed your hands and your wedding ring tenderly, "I can't lose you again." His voice was weighty with sorrow at the thought of you being away from him, "You matter more to me than my duty as a successor does, than my parents do, even more than this whole fucking business." He rubbed his cheek against your hand in desperation as you stood frozen from the shock of Namjoon begging on his knees with the utmost humility. The most powerful man in the city, undoubtedly the country as well, was on his knees crying and begging you to stay, "If killing my parents is what I have to do to prove it, I will. Name how you want it done, when you want it done, and I'll do it." He was dead serious and he could tell you knew it as tears spilled onto your cheeks even more, "You're a better wife than I deserve, and all I can ever hope is to be even a fraction of the husband you deserve, and I'm sorry I've been missing the mark." This made your face twist in pain, regret. Namjoon, up until today, had been nothing short of perfect, and even now he was making up for it, "Almost losing you nearly killed me, and-and I get that sometimes people need time to calm down but I would just prefer you beat the shit out of me instead-"

"I didn't mean that either!" You cried out as you sunk down to your knees to hug the sobbing man before you, "You aren't a sorry excuse for a husband, you're just a goddamn idiot, and I didn't want time I just didn'twant to see your stupid face because I was so angry." You laughed as he did for a moment, "Above all else, you're an amazing husband. I love you, always have, I just hate when you lie-" Your voice in his ear was like heaven as he felt a weight lift of his shoulders.

He grabbed your legs to wrap around his waist before you could properly settle onto your knees. He held you close and he soothed your cries, "I haven't lied to you since, I can promise you that." He sighed and you scoffed, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just asking you to stay with me so I can prove it over time." 

"I'm...I'm not leaving you." You sighed into his neck before he pulled you back to trap your lips between his as he kissed your with a vigorous passion. When you returned his kiss with an equal amount of desperation, he began to stand with you in his arms before promptly laying you on the couch, never detaching his mouth from yours the whole time.

You settled into the velvet cushions as he ground himself into your sex, making you gasp, "I love you, my darling." He murmured into your mouth while one of his hands slid your dress up and your panties to the side before brushing his fingers across your pussy and groaning at your wetness, "Oh fuck, you're so wet, baby." His mouth went to your ear as you moaned, threading your fingers into his hair, "Was it me promising to kill for you or me getting onto my knees that did it, hm?" He rubbed slow circles over your clit and you gasped, "You get off on me spilling blood for you? You get wet by me demeaning myself to keep you right here, where you belong?" 

"Yes, daddy, I do- fuck!" You clutched his hair harder as his finger slipped in and your hips wiggled impatienly, "Just fuck me, I don't care about being stretched, fuck me." 

Too desperate to even hesitate, Namjoon undid his belt, ripping it from his trousers as he secured your wrists within the leather garment, as he had done many times before. He undid your belt as he pushed your arms up and his pants down with his boxers. He slid into you with a deep groan that you matched with a wanton moan. He fucked himself into you feverishly, wasting no time in chasing your high as his nimble finger went down to stimulate your clit, "I love you so fucking much, y/n." He groaned as he felt you tighten, "I don't care who I have to kill to prove it, I'll even let you watch the light drain from their fucking eyes if it means you'll stay with me." 

You moaned out as he whispered gruesome threats to the outside world intermingling with sweet nothings as he held the belt around your wrists,using it as leverage to fuck you harder. If you were sane, you would not be getting closer and closer to orgasm as he cursed the rest of the world into painful deaths just to have you as his wife, but here you were, clenching around him and opening your legs further so he can go deeper, "Shit, I'm gonna cum!" You cried out, arms going over Namjoon's head so you could pull him down to you by the neck and kiss his lips messily.

His hand went from your clit as he wrapped his arm around you to hoist you up and slam himself into you further, "That's right baby, cum for daddy and I'll give you my cum." He cooed in spite of the strain to keep himself from busting you before you get your release. His words only threw you over the edge as you climaxed, hurdling him into his own. He fucked his cum into you like always and you moaned lightly until he was done.

He held himself inside of you as you both gained your breath again, exchanging occasional kisses, "You don't have to kill them, you know." You spoke finally "Although, I won't be so cordial with their bullshit anymore."

He nodded, "I'm by your side, Junebug, forever and always." You smiled before kissing him.

"And I, you." You hummed blissfully.

"We have everything we need between just the two of us, I promise." He smiled against your kiss while you nodded, "You'll be the only one calling me daddy for the rest of out lives- hey!" You smack his chest lightly as you both laughed blissfully, letting the seriously twisted shit that just transpired be a simple part of the past.

"Your mom is a bitch." You giggled tiredly as he chuckled.

"Don't worry about being nice to her if you don't want to, I have my priorities straight." He gave you another kiss that you returned with glee.

As he was cleaning you up, your hazy mind allowed you to feel smug at the fact that you just saved your shitty in-laws from certain death. You were their ticket to life. You were their precious successor's priority. You were his only true love.

Namjoon watched with nothing but love as he tucked your sleeping form into bed. Thinking on it now, he doesn't know if he could even stand the idea of you loving a child as much as you loved him. He enjoyed his monopoly over your affection, and a child would only throw a wrench in that for him. Taehyung liked kids, Jungkook seemed like a family man, maybe even Hoseok if that new girl he's saying is as serious for him as he says. All it took was one kid to carry on the business, so you didn't need to worry your pretty little head about it.

All you had to worry about was staying by his side and all he had to worry about was being a good enough husband to keep you there. He kissed your forehead as he held you closer to him, texting his mom the next time she disrespects you or his marriage, there would be consequences. 

You were the only person he needed. He would do anything to make you understand that. 

The ticking of the clock was nowhere to be heard as you laid in Namjoon's arms. You snuggled into him as you caught sight of the thinly veiled threat he sent to his own mother on account of your feelings. He was yours just as much yours were his and the victory of it all had never tasted so sweet. His heartbeat was all you could hear, steady, loving, and to the beat of the drum you commanded. 

You both wouldn't have it any other way.

Masterlist

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[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[fortunatelyfresco]

A Holistic Integration of Type 1 Narcolepsy into the Reading of Moist von Lipwig

Literary Interpretation, Disability, and Finding Yourself Between the Lines

As it goes, "I wrote this for me, but you can read it if you want." It might be a fun ride for anyone who is very interested in Moist von Lipwig, or narcolepsy, or both, and/or anyone who enjoys collecting small details from within a body of work and arranging them into threads that are supportable by the text, without being actually suggested by it.

Personally, I find it very interesting to read the meta behind different headcanons, and see how creators can unintentionally write a character who fits certain criteria. There are only so many traits, after all, and some of them tend to travel in groups! Humans are pattern seekers, etc etc.

The first step of reading Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic is wanting to read Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic. Being narcoleptic myself and relating heavily to Moist, this step was very easy. I invite you to take my hand and come along, at least briefly, if you were interested enough to click the readmore.

Once you have taken that step, things start falling into place. At least they do if you're intimately familiar with narcolepsy, or if you first learn about it in detail through, for instance, a Tumblr post with an agenda :)

I'll break this down symptom by symptom, citing only the ones I both have personal experience with and see textual support for.

I'll be using OverDrive's search function to catalogue "evidence" in (the American editions of) Going Postal, Making Money, and Raising Steam, so I might miss passages that don't use certain keywords.

Please take any statements along the lines of "being narcoleptic means X" with a huge grain of salt. Sometimes it's just more succinct. Narcolepsy can manifest in many different ways, and is still being actively studied. Don't base your entire understanding of it on a fandom essay I wrote to cope with the crushing pressures of capitalism. I have not even fully read the scientific studies linked here as sources.

Here we go! Spoilers abound.

I. Excessive Daytime Sleepiness (EDS) and sleep attacks.

Being narcoleptic means (salt now, please) that your brain does not get adequate rest while you sleep, no matter how much you sleep. This is because of a disturbance in the order and length of REM and NREM sleep phases. This leads to constant exhaustion. Some sources describe narcoleptic EDS as "comparable to [the sleepiness] experienced by a healthy individual who has been sleep-deprived continuously for 48–72 hours."

(Source.)

Sleep attacks can come on gradually or suddenly. In my case, I become irritable and easily overwhelmed, and nothing matters except finding a place to lie down. A more severe attack, under the right circumstances, can put me to sleep while I'm actively trying to stay awake and engaged.

Moist refers to 6:45 am as "still nighttime." He is "allergic to the concept of two seven o'clocks in one day" and is "not good at early mornings," and the narration even cites this as "one of the advantages of a life of crime; you didn't have to get up until other people had got the streets aired."

In Going Postal, he repeatedly falls asleep at his desk. I can only find two instances, but the first one describes it as having happened "again," so it happens at least three times over the course of one week. Both of the times I found were after Mr. Pump cleared his apartment, giving him access to a bed, and I can't find any reference to the fire destroying it—just that his office is "missing the whole of one wall." His presumably wooden desk is still intact, even, just "charred."

There's also no build-up either time. No direct narration of the time right before he falls asleep, just retroactive accounting for it.

Which is primarily a function of stories not showing us every boring second, and secondarily one of the smaller ways we're shown Moist being overwhelmed and racing to keep up with himself, but tertiarily it's a great set dressing if you've already decided he's narcoleptic. Sometimes sleep is just a thing that happens, without any deliberate transition. Sometimes you sit down to catch your breath or get some paperwork done, and wake up several hours later.

I've found only one example in GP of Moist waking up in his actual bed at the post office: the morning after being possessed by all the undelivered letters. Presumably either they put him there, or Mr. Pump did.

There are two points in Making Money where Moist, in an effort to be a comforting and/or guiding hand, advises people to get some sleep. First Owlswick Jenkins, and then one of the clerks (Robert) who is worried about Mr. Bent.

I take the optimistic view that this is Moist genuinely caring about these people, not just trying to get them to do what he wants. He has always done some combination of those things (GP opens with him having befriended his jailers, after all), but there's definitely a thread of him learning to treat both himself and those around him more like real people. (See also.)

Looking at this thread through narcolepsy-colored lenses, you get Moist perhaps drawing from his own experiences in an effort to be helpful. In Owlswick or Robert's position, what is something he would want to hear from the man currently in charge of his fate, or at least his job? "Get some sleep."

If we accept this as a pattern, it culminates in Raising Steam, when Moist starts to worry about "Dick Simnel and his band of overworked engineers," fixating particularly on their lack of sleep.

What sleep they got was in sleeping bags, curled up on carriage seats, eating but not eating well, just driven by their watches and their desire to keep the train going.

[...]

"People are going to die if we push them any further," he said to Dick. "You lot would rather work than sleep!"

[...]

The young man swayed in front of him and Moist's tone became gentle. "And I see now that part of my job is to tell you that you need some rest. You've run out of steam, Dick. Look, we're well on the way to Uberwald now, and while it's daylight and we're out of the mountains it's going to be the least risky time to run with minimum crew. We're all going to need our wits about us when we get near the pass. Surely you can take some rest?"

Simnel blinked as if he'd not seen Moist the first time, and said, "Yes, you're right."

And Moist could hear the slurring in the young man's speech, caught him before he fell and dragged him into a sleeping compartment, put him to bed, and noted that the engineer didn't so much fall asleep as somehow flow into it.

Moist then recruits Vimes to help him talk the rest of the engineers into getting some rest. The two of them briefly commiserate about people not realizing how important it is.

"I have to teach that to young coppers. Treasure a night's rest, I always say. Take a nap whenever you can."

"Very good."

II. Insomnia.

This is a lesser-known but very common symptom of narcolepsy. Or a comorbidity, depending on how you look at it. It seems counterintuitive if narcolepsy has been presented to you as "sleeping all the time," but it makes sense once you know it's really a matter of disruption in the brain's ability to regulate sleep cycles.

The case for this symptom is flimsier, and I fully admit I'm just reading my own experience into it. But here are two excerpts from Going Postal that I find quite suitable for my sleepy agenda:

1. "A man of affairs such as he had to learn to sleep in all kinds of situations, often while mobs were looking for him a wall's thickness away."

I latched hard onto this detail the first time I read GP.

At my worst, I could not get more than a couple hours of sleep in my bed. I kept taking naps in the bath because it was one of the few places I could sleep. It seemed to fulfill some of the criteria (isolation, temperature control, etc) that my brain demanded in exchange for playing nice.

We're told over and over again, throughout Moist's books, that he functions best under pressure.

(Brief aside: This is often cited as a reason to interpret Moist as having ADHD, which I'm also fully on board with. Not coincidentally, narcolepsy and ADHD share a few symptoms, have a notable comorbidity rate, and are treated with some of the same medications. Source.)

So again, if you're already inclined to read Moist as narcoleptic, the following is an easy jump:

"Moist thinks he's good at sleeping in strange places under strange circumstances. This is because A) his basis for comparison is a disordered attempt to sleep in normal places under normal circumstances, B) something about danger satisfies his brain into running more smoothly, and C) he's a resourceful person who is 'not given to introspection,' and so is less likely to wonder why his body demands sleep at strange times and more likely to focus on finding a place for that sleep to happen, and chalk this up later as a skill."

And returning briefly to EDS: Why would someone like Moist waste time finding a safe place to sleep while people are actively trying to kill him? At the beginning of GP, he leaves Vetinari's office and immediately goes on the run. In multiple books, when he feels threatened, his brain instinctively launches into complex escape plans. We see him successfully blend into an Ankh-Morpork crowd at least once after becoming a public figure.

So why bother? After all, a safe place to sleep is also a safe place to change clothes, or at least remove whatever distinguishing features he's given himself. Why wouldn't he just become someone else and leave town immediately?

The obvious answer is that sometimes things just happen, and an author doesn't need to know or explain every single detail of a character's past.

I would suggest, though, that one of those things might be Moist reaching a point where sleep is just not optional. A point where he not only doesn't, but can't, care about anything else. Where he is too tired to think straight, too tired to talk his way out of trouble, too tired to even contemplate the long journey from one town to the next.

2. "Moist knew he ought to get some sleep, but he had to be there, too, alive and sparkling."

Sometimes (especially in combination with underlying mental health issues) narcoleptic sleep deprivation can bypass everything I've described so far, and lead straight into a manic state. You won't necessarily find that on Google, but it's been my experience.

That's obviously not what the text is implying. "Alive and sparkling" is just a very relatable description. And we do often see Moist getting away from himself, speaking without thinking, making absurd promises that he justifies immediately afterwards as Just Part Of Being Him, always raising the stakes.

And here are a couple of excerpts from Raising Steam that could be interpreted as Moist being a light sleeper, AKA struggling to get deep sleep:

1. "And slowly Moist shut down, although a part of him was always listening to the rhythm of the rails, listening in his sleep, like a sailor listening to the sounds of the sea."

2. "All Moist's life he'd managed to find a way of sleeping in just about every circumstance and, besides, the guard's van was somehow the hub of the train; and although he didn't know how he did it, he always managed to sleep with half of one ear open."

Moist is exactly the kind of opportunist to see that as a useful tool, isn't he?

III. Hypnagogic and Hypnopompic Hallucinations.

These are hallucinations that come on as you're falling asleep or waking up. They can also happen during REM intrusions while you're awake. My most memorable ones include piano notes, someone calling my name, being trapped in the waves of a large body of water, and a huge truck going over a guard rail and tumbling down a hill. These are often, but not always, accompanied by sleep paralysis (and sleep paralysis is often, but not always, accompanied by hallucinations).

In GP, Moist casually cites his own hallucinations as proof that what is happening at the post office is not one.

"They're all alive! And angry! They talk! It was not a hallucination! I've had hallucinations and they don't hurt!"

Obviously that's not true for everyone, but it's true for Moist, and he has enough experience that he immediately recognizes the difference.

At one point while awake, Moist "[snaps] out of a dream of chandeliers" to realize someone has approached him to talk, while he was busy having visions of what the post office used to look like/could look like again.

Now, that's cheating, because we're probably supposed to assume it's a side effect of being possessed, but... I'm putting it here anyway.

There is also perhaps a case to be made for the tendency of Moist's internal monologue to lapse into extremely specific and prolonged hypotheticals. The lines between hallucinations, waking dreams, and "regular" daydreams have always been very blurry to me. I'm especially curious about the example at the end of Going Postal, which goes like this:

"Look, I know what I'm like," he said. "I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I just wanted to prove to myself I'm not like Gilt. More than a hammer, you understand? But I'm still a fraud by trade. I thought you knew that. I can fake sincerity so well that even I can't tell. I mess with people's heads—"

"You're fooling no one but yourself," said Miss Dearheart, and reached for his hand.

Moist shook her off, and ran out of the building, out of the city, and back to his old life, or lives, always moving on, selling glass as diamond, but somehow it just didn't seem to work anymore, the flair wasn't there, the fun had dropped out of it, even the cards didn't seem to work for him, the money ran out, and one winter in some inn that was no more than a slum he turned his face to the wall—

And an angel appeared.

"What just happened?" said Miss Dearheart.

Perhaps you do get two...

"Only a passing thought," said Moist.

In-universe... what is Adora reacting to? What did just happen? The fact that these incidents are not isolated to Going Postal is a point against it being some sort of literal timeline divergence caused by The Spirit Of The Post.

So maybe Moist visibly zoned out. Maybe he had some kind of minor but noticeable cataplexy attack (more on those later) as part of a REM intrusion, brought on by the intense emotions he's currently struggling with.

IV. Vivid Dreams.

Again, at least some of this is probably supposed to be part of the possession, but I've been professionally projecting myself onto the surreal dreams of magically afflicted characters for years. Do try this at home.

1. "Moist dreamed of bottled wizards, all shouting his name. In the best tradition of awaking from a nightmare, the voices gradually became one voice, which turned out to be the voice of Mr. Pump, who was shaking him."

2. Moist is uneasy about the Smoking Gnu's plan, and then he has an extremely detailed dream about the Grand Trunk burning down.

This culminates in "Moist awoke, the Grand Trunk burning in his head," followed by a paragraph of him thinking things through and starting to form his own alternative plan, followed immediately by "Moist awoke. He was at his desk, and someone had put a pillow under his head."

So he fell asleep at his desk, woke up from a vivid nightmare, was awake just long enough for a coherent train of thought, and then passed back out. Which once again is not "proof" of anything, but fits the predetermined interpretation like a glove.

V. Cataplexy.

Cataplexy is a sudden loss of muscle control, usually triggered by strong emotions. This is thought to be a facet of REM intrusion—waking instances of the atonia that is meant to stop us from acting out our dreams.

The most well-known manifestation is laughter making your knees buckle, but it's not always that severe. My own attacks range from facial twitching, usually when I'm angry or otherwise extremely upset, to all-over weakness/immobilization and near-collapse when I laugh. My knees have fully buckled once or twice.

This is the biggest stretch. This is the one that is absolutely only there if you've already decided to read entire novels between the lines. It's also not even necessary for the broader headcanon; plenty of people have narcolepsy without cataplexy (or such mild cataplexy that it's never noticeable, or very delayed onset, etc).

However. I am doing this for fun. So I want him to have it. It's also become a major part of how I imagine Moist engaging with emotion, and I'd like to make a case for that.

There are a few scattered references to Moist's legs shaking, or being unsteady, or outright giving way, but there's usually an external physical reason, and/or enough psychological shock to justify it without a medical condition.

The most compelling example I've found so far comes from Moist and Adora's conversation about people expecting Moist to deliver letters to the gods.

"I never promised to—"

"You promised to when you sold them the stamps!"

Moist almost fell off his chair. She'd wielded the sentence like a fist.

"And it'll give them hope," she added, rather more quietly.

"False hope," said Moist, struggling upright.

"Almost fell off his chair" at first sounds like casual hyperbole, but then "struggling upright" implies it was a bit more literal. It's also an accurate description of me recovering from my more severe attacks, supporting myself on a wall or my spouse, or pushing myself up if I've fallen over in bed.

That happens to me multiple times per day, by the way. It doesn't bother me, and I didn't realize there was anything unusual about it for a long time. I barely think about it, except to fondly note that my spouse is good at making me laugh.

Which is to say, even severe cataplexy is not always noticeable or debilitating. Sometimes it absolutely is! It can be downright dangerous, depending on where you are, what you're doing, and whether you have any other conditions it might exacerbate. I don't want to undermine that.

I am just hell-bent on justifying the idea that this fictional character could have repeated attacks throughout the canonical narrative that are so routine they don't merit an explanation, or even a description. Especially for someone who is used to hiding his few distinguishing features behind false ones that are much more memorable. (See also.)

(That link goes to my own fanfic. Sorry.)

On the milder side, between Going Postal and Making Money, there are three instances of Moist's mouth "dropping open" when he's shocked, upset, confused, or some combination of the three. This is the kind of thing that shows up a lot in fiction, but rarely happens so literally in real life.

(There's technically a fourth instance, but I'm not counting it because it seems to be a deliberate choice on his part to convey surprise.)

And then there's laughter. Or rather, there isn't. I could be missing something, but I've searched all three books for instances of laughter and various synonyms (not counting spoken "Ha!"s), and what I've come up with is:

Moist laughs once in Going Postal, when he receives the assignment for the race to Genua.

Two packages were handed over. Moist undid his, and burst out laughing.

There's also an instance earlier in the book where Moist nearly "burst[s] out laughing."

I find the specifics here interesting, and, for our purposes, fortuitous. Cataplexy is complicated and presents differently for everyone. In my case, when laughter triggers an attack, one of the effects (which is sometimes also a cause) is that I laugh very hard, with little or no control. "Burst out laughing" is quite apt.

Let's move on to Making Money, and start with a quick tangent:

Mr. Bent explains that he has no sense of humor due to a medical condition, and that he isn't upset about this and doesn't understand why people feel sorry for him.

Moist immediately starts in with "Have you tried—" before getting cut off by the frustrated Bent.

Out-of-universe, "Have you tried" is such a well-known refrain to anyone with an incurable condition, I'm not at all surprised to find it in a book written by someone who had at least begun the process that would lead to a diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer's. And Pratchett has certainly never shied away from portraying ignorance in his protagonists.

In-universe, it feels a little odd. Moist's tongue runs away from him all the time, but usually in the form of making ridiculous claims or impossible promises. Moist's entire stock-in-trade is People Skills, and it feels strange for him to make this kind of mistake immediately after being told Mr. Bent is not looking for solutions.

But if one were reading with, for instance, the idea in mind that Moist himself has an incurable condition related to laughter and is enthusiastic about, but still relatively new to, the practice of drawing on his own experiences to help people... it is easy to imagine the gears in his head turning the wrong way, superimposing those experiences over the tail end of Mr. Bent's explanation. Disabled people are not immune to these well-meaning pitfalls.

There is another Mr. Bent moment that I want to discuss, but we'll circle back around to it later.

I found two instances of Moist himself laughing in MM.

1. "He said it with a laugh, to lighten the mood a little."

This is deliberate laughter, employed as a social tactic. A polite chuckle, probably. Not the sort of thing that generally triggers cataplexy.

2. "Moist started to laugh, and stopped at the sight of her grave expression."

The first and only involuntary laugh in MM. It doesn't always trigger attacks...

Which brings us to Raising Steam. Compared to the first two books, Moist laughs a lot here. I count nine instances. Two of them are "burst out laughing"s, a couple include him as part of a group, some of it comes off as deliberate, and some of it doesn't.

I've always seen a lot of... rage in Raising Steam. Combing through it for laughter, I realized Moist's emotions in general are much closer to the surface here, and he's much less concerned about letting people see them. He laughs with friends and acquaintances, he cries in front of strangers, he shouts at Harry King, he has that entire conversation with Dick that boils down to "I'm very worried about you," etc.

Opinions vary wildly and sharply on Raising Steam. I have my own hangups with it, as I do with most books in the series. (Every time I make a new Discworld post, Tumblr passive-aggressively suggests the tag "my kingdom for a discworld character who is normal about women and other species.")

But I like this particular change in Moist, and I choose to see it as character development. He's trading in the professional detachment of a conman for the ability to grow into himself as a person and make meaningful connections.

So, what does that have to do with cataplexy? A lot.

I don't want to get too maudlin, so I'll just say I have plenty of personal experience with emotional repression masking cataplexy symptoms. And so, I believe, does the version of Moist we've put together over the course of this post.

Which brings us back to Making Money, and Mr. Bent. He says something about Moist that I find very interesting: "I do not trust those who laugh too easily."

Unless I've missed something, at that point in the book, Moist has never actually laughed in front of him. And Mr. Bent is a man who pays very close attention to details.

So, what is the in-universe explanation for this? I'd like to propose that Moist is very skilled at seeming to laugh, without actually laughing. He smiles, he's friendly, and he makes other people laugh, which is another thing Bent dislikes about him. He gives the impression of being someone who laughs a lot. (He certainly left that impression on me; I was very surprised by the lack of examples in the first two books.)

Even staying strictly within the bounds of canon, it's easy to imagine why this might have become part of Moist's camouflage in his previous life. He wasn't looking to get attached to anyone, and he didn't want anyone getting inside his head. Engaging with people genuinely enough to laugh at their jokes would run counter to both of those things, but some of his personas still needed to come off as friendly and sociable.

Still working within the canon, it makes sense to assume he's similarly distanced himself from emotion in general. He sits in a cell for several weeks without truly believing he's going to die. He's bewildered when Mr. Pump points out that his schemes have hurt innocent people. He has no idea what to do with his feelings for Adora. Etc.

Interpreting Moist as having cataplexy adds an extra element of danger. Moist thrives on danger, but there's a difference between the thrill of a con and the threat of sudden, uncontrollable displays of vulnerability. And so it becomes even easier to see him stifling his own emotional capacity.*

We meet Moist at a moment of great upheaval. He is forcibly removed from his cocoon of false identities, and pushed out into the world as himself. And we are shown and told throughout Going Postal that he does not know how to be himself. (See also.)

He is repeatedly stymied by his own emotions. He gets tongue-tied and confused around Adora, he snaps at Mr. Pump, he lashes out at Mr. Groat, he gets lost in school flashbacks when he meets Miss Maccalariat. This thread continues in Making Money, where the sudden reappearance of Cribbins immediately rattles him into making an uncharacteristic mistake.

I called him Cribbins! Just then! I called him Cribbins! Did he tell me his name? Did he notice? He must have noticed!

Later in the same book, Moist misses a crucial opportunity to run damage control on the bank's public image... because he's excited to see Adora.

The Moist of GP and MM is not used to feeling things so deeply. It throws him off his game. I'm not at all suggesting cataplexy is the only (or even primary) reason for that, but I do think there's room for it on both sides of the cause and effect equation.

With or without the cataplexy, I find Moist's relative emotional openness in Raising Steam... really nice. (It's a work in progress. He's still getting a handle on anger.)

Cataplexy just adds another dimension. A physical manifestation of emotional vulnerability, which would have been especially untenable for a teenager on the run. Just one more facet of the real, human, fallible Moist von Lipwig who spent years buried beneath Albert Spangler and all the rest.

Another piece of himself that Moist is growing to understand and accept, as he learns to more comfortably be himself.

The Moist of Going Postal runs into a burning building to save lives without fully understanding why he wants to, and justifies it on the fly as an essential part of the role he's trying to play.

The Moist of Raising Steam mindlessly throws himself under a train to save two children, and then blows up at Harry King about the lack of safety regulations. Freshly traumatized by the murder of several railway workers and his own violent, vengeful response to it, he still offers, in the face of Harry's own grief, to be the one to inform their families. On a long and dangerous journey with plenty of moving parts to think about, he worries about Dick Simnel and the other engineers, and pushes them to take better care of themselves.

He also meets a bunch of kids who nearly derailed a train as part of a childish scheme. His admonishment is startlingly vivid.

"Can you imagine a railway accident? The screaming of the rails and the people inside and the explosion that scythes the countryside around when the boiler bursts? And you, little girl, and your little friends, would have done all that. Killed a trainload of people."

[...]

"I'll square this with the engine driver, but if I was you I'd get my pencil and turn any clever ideas you have like this into a book or two. Those penny dreadfuls are all the rage in the railway bookshops."

Maybe what he is also saying, between the lines, is:

I left home at 14 and began a life of smoke and mirrors. I was empty inside, and I thought everyone else was, too. It was all fun and games, and then a man made of clay told me I was killing people. Nip it in the bud, child. Write books.

------------

*There are studies suggesting that in addition to deliberately employed "tricks," people with cataplexy may experience physiological reactions in the brain meant to inhibit laughter. (Source 1, Source 2.)

Most of the information here is way over my head, but that second link also says "one region of the brain called the zona incerta (meaning 'zone of uncertainty') was only activated during laughter in people with narcolepsy, not in controls. Research on the zona incerta in animals suggests that it also helps to control fear-associated behavior."

The linked article about that (https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-018-03581-6) is also over my head, but I would certainly describe Moist von Lipwig as having unusual fear responses.**

**Narcolepsy is a fun roller-coaster ride of constant scientific discoveries about exactly which parts of your brain are paying too much attention, not paying enough attention, or trying to eat each other.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Tsukumo Yuki relationship headcanons

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Tsukumo Yuki x reader

Author note: Tsukomo Yuki is the reason I love woman and she can crush me between her thighs send tweet

Warnings: Potential manga spoilers (?) | Mentions of s*x, but nothing too blatantly explicit. I would still prefer it if minors did not interact with this post in any way.

Yuki always asks the people she meets what type of woman they like. If someone were to ask that same question back to her, she’ll most certainly utter back your name as if it were an obvious response.

What’s not to love about you? You’re cute. You make her laugh. You cook for her because heaven knows she can't if her life depended on it. Most importantly, you keep her company due to the lack of curses she’s ever sent to exorcise. Traveling the world is fun and all, but it’s even more fun with you by her side!

You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t even see curses. Yuki is a childhood friend of yours and has kept you in the loop regarding the world of jujutsu sorcery since she started integrating into it. She thinks it’s important for you to know that someone like you, a non-curse user who has no control over the curse energy you create, should know what exactly your negative emotions can lead to. It’s not to make you feel bad or pin blame on you in any way. It’s her way of protecting you beyond physical means as well as a way of showing you that she places a great deal of trust in you regarding the nature of her line of work and her true goals.

Because she rejects the methods of the higher-ups and her ideology is more along the lines of putting an end to the creation of curses permanently instead of letting them manifest and dealing with them when they start causing profound trouble, you’re often the one that has to listen to all her new, sometimes overreaching, hypotheses now and then. You may even take part in her research, but she would never put you in any sort of harm! At least, not unless you give her the okay to. Be warned, if you give your blessing to be her little lab rat she’s prone to get carried away with her methods. Speak up if she’s doing something outrageous or if she’s making you uncomfortable. Otherwise, you might end up in some precarious situations.

As mentioned previously, Yuki isn’t sent out on missions that often, if ever. She instead chooses to travel in and out of the country, for the sake of her research as well as for the pleasure of it. Since she’s one of three, later four, special grade sorcerers her salary is rather tremendous. Unfortunately, her travels outside Japan are “unauthorized” and sometimes her funds get frozen by the higher-ups. Her quick solution to the matter is to fly back, take on a mission or two to get her funds unfrozen (and into your account because you’re her partner-in-crime) or even take on a mission to earn some more funds, and then you and her are right back to traveling the world again.

During one of these money replenishing heists, she met a kid that she took a particular interest in and wanted to mentor, Aoi Todo. It’s hard for most people to spark her interest to the extent Todo did, so you happily supported her endeavors and even met with her young pupil a few times throughout the years. Her methods of training are a bit....extreme, to put it lightly. You understand that holding back her punches will only hinder Todo’s progress instead of allowing him the ability to improve and push past his limits, but you can’t help but flinch over the large scar that marks his face whenever you briefly meet up with him.

Todo is eccentric, but so is Yuki. Perhaps not idol obsessed like Todo, but seeing the way he takes great care of his appearance and flaunts his body (during a battle even), he’s a near-identical clone of Yuki. She knows that she’s good-looking, and she will always flaunt this fact to anyone with working eyes, even you! Does it work every single time? Yes. Yes, it does.

Honestly, how can it not? She’s tall. She has a great butt. She drives a motorcycle. Her tight biker pants are your Achilles heels and she knows it. Sometimes she’ll wear them around the house just to flaunt her curves and other bodily goods, even if it’s the middle of the summer, the AC is broken and the pants are made of stuffy leather material. If it gets your face all heated up, she'll wear it.

The compliments she gets from strangers are nice and all, but it’s your reactions she truly cares about. You’ve been by her side through it all. You're still sticking with her even despite the fact that she’s constantly moving around and living a somewhat free-spirited lifestyle. You genuinely support and help her when almost everyone else has rejected her methods and ideals and brush her off as some lazy, outrageous-thinking woman. Really, you stole this woman’s heart just by letting her be herself, a lazy, outrageous-thinking woman.

Yuki is indeed lazy, to the point it sometimes affects you and your shared apartment is left in a week-long accumulated mess. I’m talking clothes strewed about and spilling out the already full laundry basket, sink filled with dirty dishes, houseplant half dead due to insufficient watering, and little dusty bunnies in the corner of the room. Whenever you try to get around to getting your living space in order, she always drags you back to the bed with her either to nap some more or for a quick round of sex that leads to more napping. Eventually, you have to beat her with a pillow and threaten her with no sex for a certain period of time to get her to back off, which always works without fail.

If you really hold the “no sex until...” ultimatum over her head long enough, she’ll even pitch in and help you clean. But to be honest she kinda sucks at it so it’s sometimes better to just have her sit on the sidelines while you do all the work. She’ll jokingly suggest you clean with just an apron on (because she’s a freak like that), but you haven’t taken her up on the suggestion just yet. It’s mostly because you’ll use the “naked apron” method to further insinuate her punishment if your usual threat begins to lose its potency (because you are also a freak like that).

She’s a bad sleeping partner. Not only does she hog all the blankets and pillows, but she even stretches out her limbs over the entire bed. This usually leaves you curled up in a corner shivering your ass off until you either fall asleep via exhaustion or move to the couch. If you go to the couch, she’s 99.9% likely to wake up and join you shortly after, where she’s less of a hassle to deal with because of the limited space.

She’s a great big spoon, which is actually one of the ways you later use to solve her troublesome habits as once she latches onto you, she will not let go the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, she also snores terribly loud, but it’s nothing earbuds can’t fix.

Some might think she sleeps in something flattering, maybe even a bit scanty. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Her pj’s are decades-old shirts and gym shorts that she never got around to getting rid of. If not that, she’ll sleep completely naked and she doesn’t care if someone walks in on her with the covers off. She’ll only ever wear lingerie or other promiscuous pieces of clothing if she has intentions of getting between your legs and rocking your world for the rest of the night.

I think it goes without saying that she looks great in lace, but as hot as she may look, she really likes seeing you dressed up in something risque as well.

If you’re female, she sometimes likes to wear matching lingerie sets with you, but her favorite material to see you in is leather, especially those harness-styled sets that squeeze your flesh all around.

If you’re male, she’s a complete sucker for a man in a clean-cut, custom-tailored suit and will take it off as soon as you put it on. Hope you don’t mind losing a button or two, because she will pop them off for sure when she rips your dress shirt off of you.

To all my gender-neutral folks, It’s never too late to whip out that naked apron I mentioned earlier! Or a leather jacket. Everyone looks great in a leather jacket!

Yuki’s diet is fucking terrible. You’re a decent cook, but despite this, all she ever seems to want is greasy take-out food that makes you wonder how the hell she’s still so fit after witnessing her down three chicken burritos in one sitting. Even when the two of you are abroad and are able to try out different types of cuisines not so readily available in Japan, she’ll still want to go out to a fast food joint that you can easily find everywhere. You’ve tried to get her to branch out of her comfort zone and eat somewhat healthier alternatives of her favorite foods, but so far you’ve gotten mixed results.

In summary: Yuki is a pretty outgoing person and sometimes can be a bit of a hassle to deal with, but she’s clearly ambitious and moves to the tune of her own beat. Her goal of finding and effectively eliminating the source of all curses is a testament to the fact that she wants to save future generations from having to carry the burden sorcerers have been carrying for thousands of years. Her goals are not only for the sake of the people who will come after her, but also for the sake of her future with you. You’re someone she genuinely cares for and wishes to spend the rest of her life with, evident by the numerous times she’s come clean to you about her fears of you dying when she isn't around to protect you or of her dying and leaving you behind to mourn during late-night pillow talks in hotels or in your shared home. A future where you and her can travel the world and truly take in and enjoy the sights and wonders instead of searching for an answer to one of the world’s greatest phenomenon is a future worth fighting for, even if she’s met with some pushback or the end goal seems like nothing more than a pipedream at times. So long as you’re there with her to see her research bear fruit, she’ll keep testing and coming up with new methods to eliminate curses permanently, no matter the extremes her research takes her to.