#and one of my managers (the one who doesn’t know abt us) suggested he could/might?? come back to where we work??

[kiegotakami]

does anyone remember… when I’d talk about that guy that I worked with… literal years ago but… well he moved away a while ago but today my manager mentioned that he might move back 🙁

[glimmerglanger]

ok wild prompt ignore if u feel loke it but i just read "is that a knife in your thigh or you just happy to see me?" and immediately thought of Obi-Wan (bc i am always thinking abt him lets be real)

DJFKSLDFJ Did I have a jolt of inspiration for this in the middle of a work project? Yes. Did I take a break to jot it all down before I forgot? Also yes!

Anyway! This is a little pre-obikin fic. Set during the Clone Wars. Mentions of injuries (someone got stabbed in the leg, after all) and a rescue attempt that went very wrong. Sillier than it sounds, I think.

~~~~~

“Is that a knife in your thigh,” Obi-Wan slurred, as Anakin bent over him, swearing under his breath, “or are you just happy to see me?”

Anakin stopped for a moment, gaping down at Obi-Wan, who flashed him a wide grin, apparently unrepentant. Anakin decided to blame the comment on whatever the kriff the Separatists had dosed Obi-Wan with before Anakin managed to find him.

“It’s a knife,” Anakin told him, biting the words out and putting both hands on Obi-Wan’s head, because it was the only way to make him stay still. Anakin checked his eyes. His pupils were blown, no sign of blue around the edges of his eyes. He frowned, ignoring the pain radiating out of his leg. “You put it there, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan said, expression abruptly going serious. He was still tugging on Anakin’s arms, uncoordinated. Anakin had a feeling Obi-Wan had been aiming for his gut, not his thigh. “Sorry about that.”

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Anakin told him, though that wasn’t….quite true. Obi-Wan had obviously meant to stab someone. Probably whoever had done this to him. Anakin wasn’t entirely sure what this was, only that Obi-Wan was...obviously not himself. And that he was hurt. “Can you stand?”

“Do I have to?” Obi-Wan asked. He was tugging Anakin’s collar to one side. Anakin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, using the Force to push aside the throbbing pain in his leg. He’d seen Obi-Wan get like this a few times, usually after he was given pain killers.

They affected him...oddly.

“Yes,” Anakin said, trying to lift Obi-Wan’s hands away from his clothes. “I can’t carry you. You stabbed me in the leg.”

“We could take the knife out,” Obi-Wan suggested, and Anakin just barely managed to catch his wrist as he reached down.

“We’re not going to do that,” Anakin told him, though there was an immediate temptation to the idea. It was instinct to want to pull out the thing that caused so much pain. But it would be a terrible idea in their situation.

Currently, the knife was the only thing keeping his blood inside his body. It wasn’t doing a great job, but removing it would make things much worse. He was pretty sure Obi-Wan had nicked something important. 

Obi-Wan pouted up at him. Anakin ignored the expression, looking him over and trying to get a better idea of how he was hurt. It was, at least, easy to assess his condition. The Separatists must have had him in bacta, based on how sticky he felt and the fact that he was barely wearing anything.

Anakin had no idea why they’d thrown Obi-Wan in this little cell. Or how he’d gotten a knife. He had a lot of questions that could be answered later. “Alright,” he said, shaking his head. The agony from his leg was making it hard to think. “You’re getting up, come on.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Obi-Wan rasped, husky, and Anakin rolled his eyes. He focused on getting himself up, first, hissing as he tried to put any weight on his leg. Not only was he not going to be able to carry Obi-Wan out of here, it was feeling more and more likely that Obi-Wan was going to need to carry him. 

As far as rescues went, this wasn’t one he wanted recorded.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, as Anakin braced one hand on the wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. Kriffing blood loss. Kriffing Obi-Wan, stabbing him in the leg while Anakin was trying to rescue him, it was-- “You’re bleeding.”

“I am,” Anakin said, reaching a hand down. “Take my hand, you need to get up.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for another long moment and then stretched out his arm, wobbly. It took him two tries to grab Anakin’s hand, but then he managed to pull himself up. He swayed forward, into Anakin, who groaned in misery, biting his tongue and trying to avoid blacking out.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, face mashed up against his shoulder. “Is a that a knife in your leg, or--”

“It’s a knife,” Anakin told him, ragged, “just like it was the first time you asked.” The room was spinning around. He thought he might be ill.

Obi-Wan patted at his sides and then asked, voice cracking, “You’re not happy to see me?”

Anakin was going to single-handedly tear apart every Separatist involved in whatever had been going on here. He swore breathlessly. “Of course I’m happy to see you,” he said, ignoring the way his leg was starting to feel very, very cold.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Obi-Wan said, voice still quivering.

Anakin was also going to strangle whoever had developed whatever drug it was they’d given to Obi-Wan. Later. He swallowed, struggling for focus. “I’m so happy,” he said, through gritted teeth. “But I need your help to get out of here, right now.” 

Obi-Wan lifted his head at that, which was a mistake, because then he swayed to the side and almost went down. Anakin cursed, gripping him to keep him upright. “Kriff,” he said, hoping no one was around to see, “alright, you’re going to have to walk. And - and help me.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, nodding jerkily. “Because of the knife.”

“Because of the knife,” Anakin agreed, and swallowed a shout when Obi-Wan immediately straightened, taking most of his own weight. He only swayed alarmingly for a moment before he reached out and grabbed Anakin, dragging an arm over his shoulder.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin managed to pant out, as Obi-Wan took a swaying step towards the door, dragging him along. Obi-Wan made an agreeable, humming sound. “Next time I come to rescue you, maybe don’t stab me.”

“I’ll kiss it better,” Obi-Wan said, starting a jagged path down the hall, utterly unable to walk in a straight line. 

Anakin stared forward, his leg a dull throb and his vision starting to get a little blurry. He wasn’t sure he’d heard properly. His pulse was pounding very loudly in his ears. He asked, hearing a slur in his voice, “What?”

“Your thigh,” Obi-Wan said, readjusting his grip, taking a little more of Anakin’s weight. “Where the knife is. I’ll kiss it. It’ll be fine.”

Anakin considered that. It took a while to work all the way through the statements. He said, finally, “I don’t think that’ll help.”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a little while. They’d almost reached the end of the hall. There was a door there. And, with any luck, the ship Anakin had taken to come and rescue Obi-Wan was still out there. “Oh,” Obi-Wan said, finally, “I could kiss something else.”

“That sounds better,” Anakin told him, distantly aware that neither one of them should have been talking. But he didn’t have the energy to control his tongue. He felt...tired. And heavy. His body weighed as much as a small moon. He had no idea how Obi-Wan was dragging him along. “Why not my mouth?” he suggested, as the world wobbled around him. 

“Mm,” Obi-Wan hummed, nodding. “Alright, I’d like that,” he said, and Anakin laughed, just a little.

“Wait until I’m awake,” he advised, because if Obi-Wan really was going to kiss him, after all of this time, he’d like to be conscious for it. The world spun around again, as Obi-Wan shouldered his way through the door, over all the droid bodies Anakin had left behind on his way into the compound.

The sun beat down on his face. The ship was still waiting, ramp down. Anakin exhaled, relief carving away the last of his energy, and heard Obi-Wan make a concerned sound from somewhere far away.

[jackie5656]

Insufferable

With; Newt

A/N: This is an addiction at this point. I seriously cry every other day abt this man. I just want to say thanks to anyone who likes or comments on my work. And those who reblog AND comment? You inspire me to keep writing so big thanks to you. Special s/o to @jenny33996 for yet another prompt idea. Enjoy!

   You hum softly as you work, fingertips intricately pressing down on the soil of your newly-planted tomatoes. The sun beats down on you and the other track-hoes without mercy, and it’s taken some time to get accustomed to the humidity of the glade. Despite the muggy weather, you’re completely focused on the task at hand. Making sure to remain gentle with each plant you come across.

“Love, you know the plants can’t actually hear you?” You roll your eyes at Newts remark, shaking your head knowingly as you observe his rough workings against the greenery surrounding you.

“They can actually. Studies have shown the emissions of carbon dioxide and the vibrations from talking or singing can promote efficient growth in plants.”

“Is all your free time spent researching then?”

“Precisely, and it’s the only reason the rest of you shanks don’t get a scolding from Alby. I practically carry the track-hoes!” You argue dramatically, laughing when Zart nods in agreement.

“Good that.” Zart comments idly, not noticing Newts offended expression as he lets down his rake.

“Since you two shanks like to talk so much, maybe you won’t mind working an extra ten minutes on turning the soil?” It comes out as more of an order than a question, and the two of you give a silent nod and the keeper walks off with the rest of the track-hoes.

“You’re bloody humming’s got us an extra ten on the garden, shank.” Newt chucks a cherry tomato at you as he speaks, chuckling when you toss it back to him.

“It was actually your bloody jokes, that aren’t funny might I add.” You mock his accent dramatically, smirking when his eyebrows raise in bewilderment.

“Your accent is insufferable.”

“So is yours.” The two of you laugh harder at your lighthearted bickering, getting up from your kneeling positions to pick up the discarded tools in order to tend to the soil. As Newt takes a step towards you, he trips over a stray vine. Each of you letting out a Yelp in surprise when he practically tackles you to the ground. He’s smart enough to roll over to break your fall, but you still feel a sharp pain on the side of your head when it comes in contact with one of the shovels.

“Shuck, are you that clumsy slinthead?” You mutter in annoyance as you rub your temple.

“Sorry.” Newt can only get one word out before the two of you start giggling again, only ceasing when you realize his hands are still secured around your waist. Not to mention you’re practically sprawled out on top of him, and can even smell the combined scent of mint and some type of wood coming off of him. Suddenly, the eye contact and the heavy breathing aren’t as funny as they were before.

She’s close, really close. Close enough for Newt to feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest, and her breath mingling with his. He could move his head just a few inches more, and actually kiss her. But he can’t, right? Not when she’s practically his best friend, and the one of the only people he can truly trust. She’s means too much to him for him to jeopardize their relationship. But she’s just so....impossibly close. Maybe if he just-

“Earth to Newt? My head, i-it really hurts.” She mutters softly, cringing in pain when she rises to get off of him. It’s only when he lifts her completely off of him that he realizes how sickly she suddenly looks. Sweat beading on her skin as she takes heavier breaths and-oh shuck

“What? What is it?” You question worriedly, realizing the sensation of hot water running down the side of your head. You go to rub it off, only to see your palm covered in thick red blood.

“Y-you’re bleeding.” Newt responds dumbly, eyes wide with concern and shock as he discards his shirt from his torso.

“No shuck.” Even with how lightheaded you are, you manage to make a snarky remark at the blonde in front of you. Wincing when he presses the bunched up fabric to your head. If your brain didn’t feel as if it were being stapled to your skull, you think you might’ve taken the opportunity to admire his muscled arms.

“You need to go to the med-jack, right now. Can you stand?” His demeanor is calm now, but you can tell laced within his tone is deep worry.

“Yeah, I think so.” You nod softly, cringing at the dizziness the action creates. Newt grabs at your arms to hoist you up, and you stumble with a groan at the sudden movements.

“Shuck, sorry.” Is all you hear before the ringing begins. And you know it can only get worse from there when little black dots begin to cloud your vision. Your legs feels as if they have no bone supporting the tissue, and it takes all your focus to attempt to stand. There’s shouting in the distance, or maybe from right beside you. It’s hard to tell with all this damn ringing...Did the world always feel this spinny? The last you see is the brilliant, shining sun before everything goes black.

************************

When you come to, the ringing has finally stopped. It takes you a moment to recognize your surroundings, especially since the lighting is so dim in the room. There’s shouting, but you can’t seem to decipher the voices just yet. Still, you silently pray for the arguing to stop so the raging headache will cease.

“How could you let this happen? How careless could you possibly be Newt?”

“That’s enough Minho, it was an accident. He feels bad enough.”

“Yeah, and you know we can’t afford accidents Alby. Because you know what happens? People die!”

“I said that’s enough. I know damn well what goes on around here. Now slim it.” The voice is stern, but remains tranquil as anger laces each word. Alby

“Jesus shuck, stop talking.” You croak weakly, voice unbearably hoarse from however long you’ve been out. You try to swallow some saliva, and hum weakly when a cup of water meets your lips.

“If you guys are going to argue, I suggest you do it elsewhere. It’s bad enough she’s lost consciousness after a head injury. Right now, she needs as little stimulation as possible.” Clint informs strictly as he readjusts the bandage on your forehead. “If you’re going to stay in here, you all need to slim it.” You follow Clint with your eyes as he walks towards the supply stable, noticing Alby and Minho stood glaring at each other in the doorway. Newt sits in a chair beside Alby, hand rubbing over his mouth in thought as he studies you intently. Only averting his eyes when you meet his gaze.

“Do you know your name?” Clint speaks gently beside you, finger moving in front of your eyes in a silent order for them to follow it.

“Y/n.”

“What about where you are?”

“The med hut, in the glade.”

“Good, and who’s that over there?”

“Minho and Alby. The blonde shank is Newt.” You joke half halfheartedly, wanting more than anything than to see the boy smile. He doesn’t make a move or attempt to speak, just meets your eyes with an unreadable expression.

“Very good. Y’know how you got in here?” You nod, but Clint raises his brows to have you elaborate. “We were working in the garden, and I fell.” You look over when Minho lets out a huff before shaking his head.

“It seems to me like she fainted from the loss of blood. It could have been shock or anxiety, because I’m not noticing signs of significant head trauma. No memory loss, nausea, or lack of reflexes as of yet. Just to be sure though, I want her here for the next week so I can monitor her. I don’t want to take a head injury lightly.” Clint informs without looking up from his reflex-test on you. The boys look to each other briefly and nod in understanding.

“I need to cool off, you’ll be okay?” Minho asks abruptly, voice much quieter this time. He rubs his thumb gently over the bandage as you offer him a weak smile.

“Minho, I’ll be fine.” He gives a curt nod before attempting to back away to leave, but you grab his wrist and pull him to you once more. “Please don’t be so hard on him. He didn’t mean it.” Minho considers your words for a moment, before looking between you and Newt. He gives another nod before parting your hand and leaving the room, still a bit frustrated. As much as he hates to admit it, or to let the other boys see, he really cares about you. You smile to yourself at the thought, strong and sassy Minho worried sick over someone. It’s heartwarming, but Newt’s pale, solemn expression brings your focus back to the glum energy of the room.

“Hear that? Sounds like you’ll be alright, shank. I’ll let you get some rest for now. And you’re not moving from this bed for a week, you hear? Clint gives the orders in here.” Alby affirms sternly, deep brown eyes the dead giveaway he’s a lot more scared than angry. He squeezes your shoulder gently before making his way out of the med hut. Leaving you and Newt alone when Clint rambles on about needing to grab herbs from Frypan for tea.

“Newt.” Your voice is so soft, you’re not even sure the boy has heard you. “Please, come over here.”

“I-I have to go talk to Minho.” He fumbles lamely, obviously trying to come up with an excuse. It’s all his fault.

The overwhelming guilt and shame has been eating at him for the past hour, wondering whether or not he had just seriously injured the girl he’s head over heels for by tripping over a shucking vine. He let his guard down, something he really only tends to do around you. It’s too dangerous, to love you. Shuck, he loves you. He can only admit it to himself right then, and the the thought that your injury was with him to blame makes his stomach churn. He was so stupid, so careless to think he could even try to be carefree for one second in this shucking hell of a plac-”

“Newt? Hey, don’t spiral on me please.” Your voice is more sad now, pleading with him to come to you. Reluctantly, the blonde walks over to sit on the side of the bed. You grab his hand before he can refuse, and give him that beautiful smile as his thumb absentmindedly moves over your knuckles. “Look at me, you heard Clint. I’m gonna be just fine. It was an accident-”

“That could have gotten you bloody killed.” He interrupts almost instantly, running a hand over his face to contain his composure in order to not raise his voice. “You understand passing out meant you could have not woken up, yeah?” He inquires, looking to you with narrowed eyes as your own drift up to look at the ceiling rather than him.

“But I didn’t.”

“But you bloody could have, and it would have been my fault.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and your eyes dart over to meet his, not letting the moisture filling in the corner of them go unnoticed.

“Newt-”

“No. We have lost too many people to start getting stupid now. I-I can’t keep...I can’t keep doing whatever this is with you in good conscious, not after today.”

Your face contorts in confusion at his words, and if you weren’t so weak you’d hit him for being so vague.

“Wh-what? So, you’re just not gonna talk to me anymore because of a shucking mishap?”

“I can’t lose you!” He counters immediately. He doesn’t yell, but his tone is desperate when he tugs his hand from your own. Not understanding he’s doing more damage now than that stupid shovel ever could. “I can’t be sick with worry like that, n-not again. I couldn’t breath when I saw that blood on your face. And I could barely explain what happened to the others. I can’t-I wasn’t able to stay calm when I saw you like that. I wasn’t myself. So, I don’t know if it’s a good idea if we-”

“Slim it. You’re giving me more of a headache than I had before. You’re telling me you want to ignore me forever? Let...Whatever this is-whatever we are, just let it go because you’re scared? I’m scared all the shucking time Newt.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Only because you’re making this so complicated.” You’ve always been stubborn, but Newts still bewildered by your insistence despite your weakened state.

“I’m scared all the time!” He mutters sternly, staring into your eyes as if it’ll somehow translate to you. “I mean, every day I’m scared. But I let my guard down, and you got hurt. I love you too much to hold onto you, can’t you get that through your bloody skull?”

Your eyebrows raise at his words, wondering if he’s actually just admitted it as he rolls his eyes.

“There, you know now. I’m head over shucking heels or whatever. Doesn't bloody matter, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Oh, so just because you’re afraid we don’t get to be together? Believe it or not, this is a two way street. And it’s gonna take a lot more than a shucking shovel for me to stop loving you Newt. And to hate you? Well, that’s impossible.” You lock gazes as you speak, challenging him to look away or continue the argument before he sighs. There’s a long pause before he looks at his feet, shaking his head before replying.

“I’m sorry about what happened. But you need to get better before we can talk about this, alright?” He cups your check and runs his thumb over your jaw as you slightly nod, lips pulling up into a smile when he places a soft kiss to your temple before backing away.

“Will you come read to me later on? We don’t have to talk about...This. I just, I don’t want to be alone all day.” You trail off when you finish, expression brightening when he nods happily.

“Alright, any requests?”

“Maybe you should leave a request in the box for Botany For Dummies. Considering it was my squash vine your shank ass tripped over.”

“Again, you’re insufferable.”

“Don’t get all jacked because my singing actually works.”

“Tell that to my bleeding eardrums.”

“Tell that to the gash on my head!” Newt shoots you a stern look at your teasing, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway.

“Too soon?”

“Slim it already, will you? I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m counting on it.”

[mable-stitchpunk]

Please rant abt fnaf interpretations I am, all ears

.I didn't expect such a positive response! 8D I got a few asks for them, and I'll see if maybe I can reply to a few of them with different interpretations...

...Also-

Let's begin with the rants. You might've seen some of these points before, but I'll bring them back up because I desire to.

1. The ghosts of the Missing Children are evil.

I don't read a lot of fanworks anymore, but I used to loathe when I would find those fics where the murdered children would be portrayed as vindictive little monsters who were going out of their way to ruin everyone's lives. Possessing main characters and forcing animatronics to go against their wishes to attack innocents for little reason.

I find this is the reason I also don't like the "animatronics are sentient and possessed by second consciousness" headcanon. Not all of them are bad, mind, you, but many of them eventually go the earlier route.

Why I hate this is because it's never a situation where we're being led to see the children as sympathetic, or corrupted by time, but a way to make the Missing Children less sympathetic to the audience. Or to raise drama by having a slew of ghosts who feel no sympathy and cannot be stopped.

Other versions show them as being especially bratty or excessively mischievous, which I just find a little annoying.

Funny enough, I don't think a child's soul going rogue is a bad idea. Such as in the case of Andrew, who I feel was massively underutilized. You can just tell when it is a pull to make the reader see in a specific direction. You can tell when there's a subconscious desire to make the murders seem 'not that bad'.

Also, the idea that the ghosts of dead children are evil because they're looking for justice for their deaths is kind of frustrating when so many headcanons try to excuse William's actions by suggesting that something traumatic triggered them.

Of course, in these cases the children are seldom actually looking for their murderer and instead are just circling around someone else.

...Oh yeah, and since we're on it-

2. William killed those children for revenge. (As a defense)

Specifically, when this is NOT used as a plotpoint, but instead used as a blame shield for William Afton. You can usually tell the difference by how the effect is cast on William.

If the tone is: William lost someone and then went on a kamikaze mission to ruin everyone's lives. Then typically it's fine.

If the tone is: William killed a lot of people- but he only did it because he lost his x! Then it gets frustrating.

It's the same boat as that Henry depression excuse, though it's worse in this case because William didn't just murder children, it's suggested that he hunted and tortured them, and then brought them back to continue making them suffer as animatronics.

3. William was a scientist.

Don't give him that much credit. This man didn't start doing science experiments until the plot got so elaborate that they needed to one-up him with himself.

4. Henry was a good father.

I absolutely loathe this one, because it hinges off of the novel's version of Henry, who actively abandoned one of his children to obsess on the other one. To the point of forcibly bringing them back without caring if the other existed- and then ditching that one too.

Sammy Emily does not exist to the FNAF fanbase. He's not a sympathetic character or an important character, he's just a plotpoint that's written out when it comes time for the big Shyamalan twist. He's pretty much totally ignored.

And by his father too. Henry never acknowledges Sammy, never cares about Sammy. He only cares about what happened to Charlie.

...But not enough to do anything about it.

Which is why I think a little acknowledgement that Henry wasn't great just because he died would go a long way. I won't even go into his more egregious actions.

5. Circus Baby's sexualization.

This is one actually backed by canon, but that doesn't make it any better. I hate the constant sexualization of Circus Baby... and especially the hypocrisy that surrounds it.

Let me give you one example of an event I had once.

When I was first writing CGHA and Mike and Mari got together, there were a lot of people who apparently missed the numerous references to the fact that Mari had aged in his many years as a puppet. This meant that Mari was now an adult, but they said since he died as a child that he is still a child. The word pedophilia was dropped a few times.

These are the SAME people who are all gung-ho about Baby dolled up in a sexy human body with skimpy skirts and long boots, dolled up by her daddy. But isn't SHE still a child?

Well, no... Because she's a bad girl, so she doesn't count.

Get off with that.

6: Vanny is in love with William Afton.

Unless we're talking Stockholm Syndrome, I don't think you're going to love a demonic entity possessing you and threatening to break your fingers if you do the wrong thing. I guess you can say that's abusive love, but like Joker and Harley Quinn, people somehow manage to forget that aspect.

I've gone into this before, so I'm not going to rant on it again. Largely because I don't know how FNAF will portray Vanny, and it's not above them to take inspiration from other sources.

Now, unlike some of these other headcanons, I THINK someone could actually write a story and make this work if they acknowledged that it was beyond "toxic". Vanny would have to be emotionally and mentally crippled to respond positively to such treatment, but it is possible if it was backed up with behavioral issues and a backstory.

You'd have to get on Silent Hill 2 levels of backstory, but it is possible if you want to go that dark.

---

I think I'll end it there for now. I know some of these might be hot takes, but I'm just voicing my thoughts here. Again, not saying anyone's wrong for holding these interpretations, but I think they should consider why they hold them.

Because it looks to me like these are used-

1: To make this Missing Children Incident less severe. 2: To make William Afton more sympathetic. 3: To make William Afton look cool. 4: To make Henry a martyr in contrast with William. 5: To have a forced femme fatal. 6: To underplay how gross the possession aspect- especially when it is a middle-aged man in complete control of a young woman's body and actions.

...But hey! That's just me. Rant over, for now. XD

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Surrexit lingua vestra cattus

Thomas appears to be a friend, but he is a demon after all.

Pairing: demon!Thomas x reader

Word count: Abt 2k

A/N: The translations came from Google, so by any means, please correct my Latin. My idea for demons and their jobs is loosely based on Supernatural because I miss it so much 😭

Take Latin, they said.

It will be fun, they said.

As a senior, you thought taking a language class would somehow lighten your stressful workload, and you were wrong. Latin kicked your ass every single week.

“Why didn’t I take Spanish?”, you groaned, dropping your head on the desk

The dorm room was empty, save for the stressed-out senior studying for finals. Your roommate, the English major, breezed through all their courses with flying colors. Avery was a natural when it came to writing and criticizing your essays. They were sure to graduate at the top of the class. Y/N, on the other hand, struggled to conjugate daily activities in past tense. College may not have been too much of a stressor in life, but this semester has fucked you over in more ways than one. All you wanted to do was graduate on time and that meant for the next two semesters you had to take 18 credits.

With the final tomorrow, you knew relearning the information was a lost cause.

Can I go home and tell mom I failed? I will never hear the end of it.

I’ll have to sit through another lecture about switching majors.

The wayward thoughts took over, filling your head with how disappointed your family will be. You wrapped your arms around yourself, head dropped to your knees when you heard something hit the floor. To your left, a book managed to fall off the bookshelf, landing on its spine.

You took your time getting the open book off the floor and reading the bookmarked page. Who would have thought your precious roommate would also be interested in demonology? The page was in English except for one paragraph at the bottom written in Latin. You read it to yourself, wincing at your terrible pronunciation.

“I guess demons aren’t real after all”, you laughed to yourself as you placed the book back on the shelf

You turned on your heel, then ran into something solid.

“Who told you demons weren’t real, sweetheart?”

The figure braced himself for the scream that escaped your lips. It happened from time to time. Someone thought demon summoning was a joke, he showed up, then boom instant nightmare. The demon towered over you. He appeared to be in his thirties. The wild, but neat curls framing his face were enough to cover the bottom of his horns. He stared down at you with his pitch-black eyes, bored with your screams.

“Are you done yet?”, he scoffed, “I’m not that bad”

“You’re a demon”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. I’m no longer disgusted in the presence of humans…although I should be. Just gross and full of emotions”

The demon walked around your small dorm, looking the at the bookshelf before his eyes landed on the book you just put away. He immediately perked up and pulled it off the shelf.

“I can’t believe they still make copies of these. Are you a fan of mine?”, he stared at you with a suggestive quirk of his brow

“It’s not my book, and why would I be a fan of you?”

“Sure, it isn’t. It’s also my book. Had to get the word out somehow”

“Everything is already stressing me out. Why would I want to add a demon to the mix?”, you hissed

“To make your life less stressful. That is what we’re here for”

“A demon just steps in, makes your life better at no cost at all?”

The demon smirked as he took a seat on your roommate’s desk. He remained composed during your interrogation. Typically, the deals were quick. Everyone knew what they wanted, and he set the nonnegotiable price for their demands. This might take a little longer, but he was up for the challenge.

“You have a point. Nothing is free, sweetheart”

“Don’t call me that”

“Don’t call me demon”

“Aren’t you a demon?”

He paused for a moment, opening his mouth for a smart remark, yet it never came. A soft laugh came in its wake.

“Thomas. You can call me Thomas”

The name put you at ease, but only for a little while. You sighed as you sat on your bed, picking up your Latin notes again.

“…and you are?”

“A human that doesn’t need your help. Nothing is worth risking a deal with a dem—you. I can’t risk that”

“There’s nothing I can help you with?”

“No”, you stated with as much firmness you could muster. The room felt slightly warmer since Satan’s spawn appeared out of nowhere.

“Not even your Latin homework?”, Thomas grinned, watching your faux hostility crumble. He knew you needed his help, but he did not mind waiting for you to ask nicely.

“I’m studying for a final and no, you can’t”

“I’ve lived for over three centuries. I think I’ve picked up more than enough Latin in my lifetime. Why do you think it’s all in my book?”

“Why would I want your help?”

“Because you’ll fail without me”

“No, I won’t. Maybe. Who cares? I don’t need your help”

“Well”, he sighed as he stepped off the bed, “te visurum”

Thomas’s hand touched the doorknob. How bad can it be? Why is he willing to help you? If he apparated in your room, why did he need to use the door?

“For dramatic effect. Do you want my help or not? I know a trick or two to help you study”, he reasoned, aware that you were already screaming yes

“Fine, but this is time for studying. I don’t need any distractions”

Thomas was indeed a distraction.

He stopped after every three phrases to ask you about your studies, hometown, and why you summoned him in the first place. You did not strike him as the type of person to summon a demon unless they were desperate.

The space between the two of you were sparse. The longer he stayed, the warmer it felt. The thermostat in the room remained untouched since he arrived. For some reason, you felt your body warming up the longer he stayed around you. You sat up on the bed with your laptop in front of you, attempting to put some space between you. Thomas laid on his side, holding himself up with his elbow. Every time his horn brushed against your arm; your skin tingled, sending small trembles to places in your body you did not want to speak about.

“Do demons have tails too?”

“Does it look like I have a tail?”

“You have black eyes and eyes, I wouldn’t put it past you”, you smirked, “Don’t get an attitude with me, blame the internet”

“I can’t do anything about the internet taking artistic liberties for what we look like, but some of it is erroneous. Don’t need a tail or wings”

“What about your horns? What’s their purpose?”

Thomas grew silent. He never wondered why he needed his horns, dark eyes, or claws. They were just there. They were a part of him. It made people fear him whenever they crossed paths and easier to get what he wanted without threatening violence. Although he loved the latter, it made his life much easier. It did not take much for him to intimidate the strongest of men, but you seemed different. Besides the initial reaction, it appeared that there’s no part of you that feared him. If no one knew who he was, one would think you were talking to another human.

“Did I offend you or something?”, you asked, finally looking up from your notebook

“No”, Thomas blinked, “Not at all. It’s going to take more than that to offend me…”

“I’m still not giving you my name and I like a challenge”

Little did you know, so did he.  

“I’ve been living amongst demons for so long, I forgot that humans aren’t used to our appearance. It got pretty lonely down there, then I came here and not much changed”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone who won’t scream for the hills when they see you”, you giggled

“I may have found one already”, Thomas replied with a devious smirk, “I’m going to give you a little push. There’s no way you’re passing this class…”

Trying to look offended was no use. You knew you were not going to pass either, regardless if Thomas helped you or not. This was a lost cause, and you were back where you started. Thomas pulled himself off the bed, collecting his coat and fixing his hair.

“There is another way I can help you, darling”

You closed your laptop and notebook, moving to the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not making a deal with you”

“You don’t have to. I’ll help you pass, and you’ll give me nothing in return”

“Why?”

“Do you know how often college students ask me for penis enlargement? Not help with studying. Not passing a class or paying for tuition. But you? You’re different. I like you, which is why this one’s on me”

“You’re going to help me…for free?”

“I only want to help”, he said, offering up his hands in mock surrender, “Next time, you’ll know when you’re summoning a demon. Do you know how much danger you put yourself in? Also, I’ll be happy to know you passed that final because you’re bound to fail”

“Gee, thanks”

If he helps you pass, he may come back and renege on his offer. There is probably some fine print that says you will belong to him for all of eternity. On the other hand, no more nagging from your mother about your major.

“Fine, I accept”, you agree as you moved to shake his hand

“Oh sweetheart”, Thomas laughed, “You naïve little thing. You really are new to this. That’s not how we seal the deal”

Thomas took a step forward, stepping in between your legs. In that moment, you became painfully aware of the dampness between your thighs.

“A quick kiss, then we’re all done”

You allowed him to move closer. He placed his hands against your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Thomas took his time kissing you, nails ghosting above your collar bone. The gasp that escaped gave him space to slide his tongue in your mouth. You found your hands tangled in his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Thomas happily obliged, placing his hands on the mattress, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around his neck.

Thomas’s hands inched up your shirts as he left rough kisses on your neck. The moan you released when he bit down on the flesh made him weak. His fingers wrapped around your hair and gave a slight tug. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he pulled harder, trying to hold himself up with his cock pressed into your thigh. You became so pliant in a matter of moments. This was all he wanted.

Before his hands could reach your bra, the faint sound of keys rang from the other side of the door. Panicked, you pushed Thomas off you.

“See you soon Y/N”, he winked before disappearing

Avery walked in as you were picking their book off the floor. You were quickly pulling your shirt down and trying to fix your hair.

“Told you the book was good”, they smirked

“Can I borrow it for a little longer?”

“Sure”

The next morning you woke up with last night as a distant memory. You quizzed yourself on past and present tense while you showered and focused on your phrases as you got dressed. You knew you were going to pass, something about today just felt right.

You stepped out your dormitory and headed to class. Across the yard, one of your classmates called out to you.

“Y/L/N, want to walk together?”

There was no reason to say no, but when you opened your mouth to say yes, nothing came out. You tried over and over, but each time, your mouth moved, your voice failed to follow suit. You stood in the middle of the yard. Everything felt like it moved in slow motion. Thomas took something valuable to you, and you were none the wiser to his game.

You yanked the demon book from your backpack, intent on summoning the very demon you now despise. In the middle of the cover was a sticky note with a message that made your blood boil.

Quid est? Surrexit lingua vestra cattus

 te visurum - see you later

Quid est? Surrexit lingua vestra cattus - What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?

[cornfarm]

isjeishwish plz tell us more about anzai-chi

like her relationship with the another characters

also ur drawingstyle is 🥺🥺🥺

OMG i'm so happy you asked!!! i'm so happy people care abt her, and thank you!!!! :DD

i'll give some fun facts about her and then talk a bit abt her relationships! i wrote a LOT so i put most of it under a cut! i'll give anyone who reads it all a cookie lol

--

her planets name is mezpria! she calls herself a mezprian.

anzai is usually seen carrying around a mop. she usually has it slung across her shoulders carrying bags. shes very skilled in spearsmanship, so she sometimes swings around her mop for fun, and people with keen eyes for fighting recognize her precision with her strokes.

that being said, she does have a spear! i mentioned that she could channel thunder to strike, this spear is what allows her to do so. when she swings it and a certain speed, it creates a line of static, and lightning will strike whatever connects, or is closest to that line. because of how dangerous it is to be put in the wrong hands, she keeps it under her bed in her apartment.

her extensive use of it during the war is what caused her hearing problems. she's not entirely deaf, but she does miss things if people speak too quietly. she does know sign language! she teaches the yorozuya some so they can gossip about people across the room.

this does mean though, that she fights frequently with simply a mop. it's a similar gag to gintoki's wooden sword, but when people say she's holding a mop, she just tilts her head and says "this is a spear?".

this is her and her spear:

sougo thinks she's funny because hijikata HATES her. he's always pissed off about how she's skirting perfectly around the law, and manages to avoid being arrested. he even hates her more because he really likes a certain type of cigarette she sells. she sells them in packs of 20, and they're made from a type of fermented, then dried wheat from her home planet.

he'll come into the shop yelling about he's "gonna arrest her and she better watch out" while buying cigarettes. the only quality he'll ever admit to liking about her is that she never comments on his hypocrisy, and that she doesn't (outwardly) judge him for his food choices.

other than hijikata, the rest of the shinsengumi is relatively neutral about her. sougo does find her antics very amusing. he definitely comes to her shop like "miss anzai will you please teach me how to roll cigarettes <3" and then puts cyanide in one for hijikata. then when it's the one she picks up to smoke he punches her so that she doesn't. maybe he hangs around because he can sense how mischevous she is.

she's always eager to teach people things about her culture and how she runs her shop! as much as she's eager to teach sougo, she also ends up teaching shinpachi and kagura lots of stuff as well. she would never say she's maternal, or a mother figure, but there's something about the way she explains things, and brings them food, and gives advice that get a "thanks mom".

sometimes she gets it from gintoki too, but when he says it she looks at him very sadly. she HATES being called mom and scolds them for it.

speaking of gintoki, i'm tired of a harem, so he likes her! it's entirely unclear to everyone if she reciprocates. she shows just enough interest to suggest she might have feelings, but she's so distant it's hard to tell. even though his kids tease him by saying shit like "please don't lower your standards to someone as low as him," to her, theyre all secretly rooting for him.

she initially met them because she needed some people to help her move and decorate her shop. they asked her why she didn't hire a moving company instead. she says there wasn't a particular reason, but she had been lingering outside their shop for a solid week before talking to them. they definitely noticed and were like "whats with this chick", especially cause she would just stand there and stare up at the sign trying to muster the courage. she really wanted to meet people and try to make some friends!

she pays them so well they actually do an okay job! anzai thanks them, and tells them they're allowed to come by anytime, and she'll give them a discount for anything they'd like. they come by very often, gintoki particularly likes the alcohol she sells, as a lot of it is very sweet, so they frequently drink together at night.

she also brings them food often. it's an easy way for her to express gratitude and affection. she's pretty poor at cooking japanese food at first, but she learns quickly!

her and gintoki have a lot in common, the biggest aspect of their relationship being their sense of humor! she's always amused by the things he says, and it's very reciprocated. he likes that her humor is so similar- they end up bonding really quick. they do banter a bit, but a lot of their interactions are enabling each other. he teases her a lot.

kagura and shinpachi don't like the way they talk to each other. kagura says their weirdness rubs off on each other too much, whereas shinpachi is simply baffled about how there's someone who can match his energy so well.

heres a silly comic i made:

anzai does give him these judgemental looks sometimes, but they're done playfully. when he does cross a line and piss her off, she just disappears, always managing to be away when he looks for her. when they fight it's miserable to watch because gintoki's too stubborn to talk to her, and she's too freaked out by emotional confrontation.

they're all very thankful anzai is a little bit responsible and always makes up with them. gintoki frequents her shop and is like, "hey, i'm not here for you. give me 5 of those little bread things, three of them strawberry and the other two peach. that's what i'm here for, not for you. are you free later?" and then lingers around way too long.

she tries to give otae cooking lessons, masked by a "let me teach you how to make a classic mezprian dish ^__^" in an attempt to alleviate shinpachi from his despair. she manages to screw up even simple recipes so she just shrugs at him.

one time katsura's ronin try to assassinate her because they heard crazy rumors about her war crimes and exploits and she just looks at him like "can you stop trying to kill me please." eventually he's like "my bad lol we heard a bunch of crazy rumors about you" and she's like "those are all true :)"

she gets very silly and happy when drunk, so her and gintoki have a lot of fun drinking together. although sometimes she tries to tackle him, she doesn't have the arm strength when she's drunk, so he always ends up just swinging her around. she's definitely gotten a concussion at some point.

she also tends to crash with him, so when shinpachi sees her sneaking out in the early morning she always gaslights him into thinking he was seeing things.

hasegawa, gintoki, and her gamble often! she's pretty well off so she's not too worried about money, so she just thinks its fun. when they tell her to start stripping so they can continue gambling something away and she's like "absolutely not" and then takes her apron off.

i feel like i've spoken really only highly of her, but despite how she's generally liked and beloved by many, she's painfully distant. she's always a few steps out of reach from everyone, and because of that she feels like an outsider. heres another drawing of her:

most people call her anzai(-san), but otae and hasegawa call her yae, while kagura calls her yae-chan. sougo commonly calls her boss, and gintoki calls her a slew of shitty nicknames, most commonly with her lastname, since it uses the kanji for "toki". she calls almost everyone by their first name with no honorifics.

AND THATS IT!!! i can definitely think of a hundred more scenarios with her and different cast members but i've already written so much ;__;

if you've read this far i'm giving u ur cookie of choice

[angrylizardjacket]

heard your name in every love song {Ben Hardy} 1

1. when he was looking out for me (i would pretend he was my summer fling)

Summary: When you’re twelve and you have a crush on your babysitter, your parents think it’s puppy love, think it’s cute, and you’ll forget about it soon enough.

A/N: 2266 words. Female!Reader. okay so the sprained ankle in Space Jump is a direct reference to something that happened in my theater class, that being a dude snapped his fucking femur playing Fruit Salad. RIP adam’s femur for the following few months. he’s fine now, that was like 8 years ago. whatever. are all these theater games i mention real? i’ll never tell. here’s part 1. DISCLAIMER: NO CREEPY SHIT I SWEAR TO GOD I WOULDN’T DO THAT; THERE’S A LITTLE BIT OF PINING FROM Y/N BUT THAT’S IT. there’s a few assumptions made abt Y/N’s life; only child, parents (plural, idk how many, doesn’t matter), plays Crash Bandicoot and Mario Kart, takes theater classes outside of school.

the mutant brotherhood: @daisy-lu​ @hervoidparadise​ @nedmjpeter​ @ultrunning​ @d-r-e-a-m-catchme​ @clementimee​ @that-fandom-sucks-tho​ @cjand10​ @rest-is-detail​ @baileymae​ @rosesvioletshardy​ @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @hazelstyles94​ @bitchylittleredhead​ @bihemian-rhapsody​ @sweatyexpertgardenpanda​ @whereeverythingisbetter​ @dedxbed​ @xxencagedxx​ @glittrixvibe​ @a-girl-with-stress​ @sunflower-ben​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @mrsmazzello​ @cubedtriangle​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @misscharlottelee @nevilles-insinuations @jovialcreatorkidtoad @brianmaysclog @sambuckywarrior @hey-yo-bedussey @bubblyanis @lifesciencesbois @elektraofcrete @diosanaz @bbdoyouloveme @kirstansworld @okilover02 @cardboardbenmazzello @dreashappyworld @juliarose21 @simonedk @greycuby @emmasunshiine @dinotje @qtrogerina @spiketacus @nympha-door-a @local-troubled-writer @emphatic-af @wh0a-thisisheavy @lustgardn @banginashton 

--

When you’re twelve, and almost at the end of your first year of high school, you get into a fight with your parents as to whether or not you still need a babysitter. Much to your chagrin, however, they don’t see twelve as ‘practically sixteen, which is practically an adult’ and you sulk for the full three days leading up to the night they were going out. The night of, you’re fully intending on staying in your room, until there’s a knock at the door, and you hear a voice that is absolutely not your usual babysitter.

“Be good,” your parents call to you as they’re leaving, having noticed where you’d cracked the door to your room to see who it was. You make a face at them, but you’re surprised to see a kid from Sixth Form on crutches, who is absolutely not Madeline, standing in the hallway awkwardly. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around school, maybe he’s on the soccer team? You’re not sure. 

“You’re not Maddy,” you tell him, opening the door a little wider, and he seems surprised for a moment to see you there. A kind, awkward smile appears on his face as he regards you with gentle amusement.

“Well spotted, I’m Ben, Maddy’s got the flu,” he explained easily, and offered his hand, “you’re Y/N, right?” And he’s trying so hard, but you’re still kind of mad at your parents for insisting on a babysitter in the first place.

“Who else would I be?” You asked flatly, which surprised a laugh from Ben, but you shook his hand anyways; you had to give him props for trying, “why are you using crutches?” You asked outright, since you’re pretty sure he wasn’t using crutches last time you saw him at school. You turned, heading for the living room, deciding to at least give him a chance.

“Sprained my ankle in class the other week,” he explained, hobbling along behind you.

“Sport or just P.E?” You asked, throwing yourself onto the sofa and picking up the TV remote. Ben was quiet for a long moment, and when you look at where he’s sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa, he’s making a face like he doesn’t quite want to admit the truth.

“Theater sports,” he explained, which piqued your interest, which, of course, you try not to let show on your face, because if your babysitter knows you already think he’s cool, you might die of embarrassment. But also, you suddenly feel incredibly validated for taking those theater classes every Thursday afternoon.

“They’re -” he tries to explain, but you give another eye roll.

“I know what theater sports are,” you tell him, and his smile turns amused. 

“You do?” He asks, and you think he might be a little bit impressed, or perhaps it was just wishful thinking, either way, you nod firmly, “well I was in the middle of Space Jump - you know Space Jump, right? Where you start an activity and then someone else calls ‘Space Jump’ and you have to freeze and they have to make a new scene from your freeze, and then someone else comes in -” he explained, mostly to save you the embarrassment of admitting you didn’t know the game, “well I was up on one leg on a chair, climbing the rigging of a ship, you know how pirates do, and I froze, and -” he gestured how he’d fallen off the chair, with accompanying sound effects.

“Couldn’t you have just put your other foot down and balanced yourself?” You offered, and he shook his head, expression adamant.

“It’s all about the commitment to the bit; I was trying to entertain them, and the best way I can do that is to put myself out there one-hundred percent,” he told you sincerely, “you’ve always gotta follow through.”

“You sprained your ankle,” you pointed out, “isn’t that dangerous advice?” He deflates a little, looking down at his leg.

“Follow through but use your common sense, you’ve got common sense, don’t you?” He asked, giving a wry smile, two which you nodded diligently, “don’t get yourself hurt, then,” he suggests, before changing the subject quickly, “you hungry yet? Your parents said we could order pizza.” You’re easily excited by the thought of pizza, a rare treat your parents allowed you whenever you were babysat. 

It’s a pretty uneventful night, all things considered, you order pizza, and he lets you win at Crash Team Racing, and you’re falling asleep to a comedy movie until Ben gently suggests that you go to bed. You’re too tired to argue and try and weasel your way into staying up later, so you yawn loudly and wish him a good night before shuffling off to bed. The house is quiet, apart from where he’s watching a Top Gear rerun and waiting for your parents to get home.

You don’t think about it much beyond telling your parents ‘yeah, he’s pretty cool’ when they ask. You don’t think about him much beyond that, at least not for almost a full week, until you’re sitting in your geography class just before lunch, having managed to snag a seat by the window looking out onto the back field, and there’s a PE class doing laps on the field. All are running, except the teacher, and a boy with blonde hair, standing with all his weight on one foot, and a pair of crutches tossed to the side, looking like he’s arguing the teacher.

“I heard when you’re in sixth form you get to push in the front of the line at the canteen,” you hear your friend, Merissa, next to you muse, and when you turn, she’s followed your gaze outside to the field. After a moment, you turn again, and watch the blonde attempt to put weight on his obviously injured foot; it looks like he regrets it, and he sits on the grass, sulking. 

“That’s probably Ben,” Merissa tells you matter-of-factly, “he’s on the football team with my brother.” And something about the kind of unwarranted pride in her voice at being in the know makes your face scrunch up. Part of you wants to tell her that you know who Ben is, obviously, but another part of you doesn’t want to admit to still needing a babysitter; it feels childish. So you keep your mouth shut and turn to back to the board.

And the following week, in your weekly theater class, you’re about to take your turn at Bus Stop, wherein your goal is to make the other person on the ‘bus stop’ as uncomfortable as possible until they finally leave, which is when you’ll assume the roll of the innocent bystander, and someone else from the class will come up and try and make you uncomfortable. It’s a lesson on improvisation disguised as a game. 

The voice you’ve been practicing slightly pinches your vocal cords, and you’ve barely got a moment to assume a matching physicality, and you worry for a second that it’s not funny, that you’ll just look like an idiot -

Put yourself out there one hundred percent.

You steel yourself, making strange shapes with your hands as you twist yourself into as much of a creature as possible, within reason, using the strange voice you’d concocted, feeling a thrill as your entrance gets the biggest laugh of the class. Oh.

A few months later, in the Summer after your first year of high school, you’re finally thirteen, and are allowed to have the house to yourself for the day, but if you’re parents are anticipating staying out later than midnight, you need -

“Please,” you begged, “just don’t say babysitter, I’m not a baby.”

“Fine,” they acquiesce, “you need supervision, just if we’re out very late.” 

Despite your indignation at the situation, Maddy’s got a cello concert, and you’re hoping that that means -

Ben greets you like a friend, wearing a denim jacket with no crutches, and he might be the coolest person you know.

“You still on Crash Team Racing?” He asks with raised eyebrows as he heads into the living room, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s so old school,” you scoff, and he raises his hands in surrender, trying not to look as amused as he feels, watching as you pull out two Wii remotes, “Mario Kart’s much better.” And you hand him one. 

He’s not above letting you win, but it turns out, he doesn’t have to; you’re scarily good at the game, which you credit to playing pretty much nothing else for a solid month, and by the time the pizza arrives, the win ratio is about fifty-fifty, and you’ve bonded considerably over your mutual and unreasonable hatred for Waluigi, the only NPC who seems to consistently beat you both.

“Do you get to push in the front of the line at the canteen?” You asked, holding your pizza in one hand and letting it cool for a moment.

“Huh?” Ben’s burnt the roof of his mouth, and is reaching for his drink when you ask, “whaddya mean?”

“My friend Merissa says Sixth Form gets to push in the front of the line.” 

“I don’t think we’re technically allowed to,” he says after a moment of consideration, and you hear his nonverbal ‘but we still do’ anyways, “it’s not a rule rule, you know?”

“Are the A-levels hard?”

“Haven’t done ‘em yet,” he answers honestly, burping quietly after taking a drink, and you hum, and take a bite of pizza.

“I’m already scared of my GCSEs,” you admit after a moment of chewing, and Ben laughs gently.

“You’ve got nothing to be afraid of,” and he sounds like he means it, so you can’t help but believe it, soothed a little in your premature worrying. To be fair, Ben could say anything about school or life and you’d probably believe it; he was cool and older than you, but he treated you like a friend. 

You mention in passing that you’d gotten the lead for your class’s skit in the end of year showcase your theater company puts on, and mentions that it’s because you’d been committing to the bit in class, and the pride in his voice when he congratulates you is something you end up thinking about for days.

He ends up babysitting you twice more that Summer, not that you were complaining. It meant you got pizza, and to hang out with the coolest person you knew, a fact which you reiterated to your parents, much to their fond amusement, though you made them swear to never tell Ben that. He brought over Super Smash Bros and you guys would play for hours.

The only problem was that Ben was never allowed to know about the crush you had on him, because everyone in the world knew it was weird to have a crush on your babysitter, and you’re pretty sure he has a girlfriend and -

Doesn’t matter. You’re just started to discover the delightful world of crushes and relationships, and Merissa has a boyfriend on Tumblr, and you know that when you get back to school you can have a normal crush on a normal boy in your year, even if all the boys in your year look like thumbs. And Ben...

Is your babysitter. And a decent guy. And your friend, sort of. So you just hope he hasn’t noticed.

After Summer, he’s studying his A-levels, and Maddy’s got a day job so she can babysit at nights again, and it feels like everything’s gone back to normal, like you can breathe again. 

You’ve never really seen him at school; you don’t tend to hang around the back fields, but a few weeks into the first term, you’re having lunch with Merissa and Charlie, one of your other friends, in the library, when you spot him laden down with textbooks, making his way to one of the study rooms at the back. You’re not sure if he’ll even acknowledge you, even though your table is directly along the best route to the back rooms, so you just give him and smile and a nod in greeting.

“Hey, Y/N,” he grins quickly, doesn’t stop, but nods in return, and your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. Charlie sinks her nails into your arm the moment he’s gone into the study room, and Merissa quietly screeches your name.

“Chill out,” you’re trying to keep a low profile, but both other thirteen year old girls are demanding to know what just happened, “we’re friends.” You say with a shrug that’s far too casual.

“Friends?!” Merissa demands, and you can feel yourself growing more flustered.

“We hung out a few times during summer,” you open your notebook in front of you, trying to distract yourself.

“You hung out with Ben? Y/N he’s a football guy, he’s so old, he’s like eighteen!”

“We’re friends,” you insist, “don’t be, like, creepy about it,” you snorted, and Charlie let out a pterodactyl-like noise. They drop it at your insistence, and you’re just glad they don’t ask you to elaborate. 

You don’t see Ben much after that anymore, he’s too busy with his A-levels to babysit, and when you’re fourteen, your parents agree that you don’t need a babysitter anymore. You’re more than happy to let your Summer crush fall to the wayside, and let your memories of Ben, like all good Summer memories, fade into blurry obscurity. 

You wouldn’t need to worry about seeing him again anyways, right?

Oh how wrong you were.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, angst, fantasy

author’s note: why am i writing sm abt yeosang, this is supposed to be a seongjoongyn fic lmao; anygays, yeosang said polyamory rights

warnings: hongjoong suffers. a lot. but will make up for it later, i promise; insecurities; jealousy; blood only mentioned like once; possessiveness

word count: 1.5k (a bit shorter than usual cuz uni is a bitch and i have zero free time but wanted to update)

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter five  ☠️ chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight  ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

You swam towards the surface together with your sister Soojin. She had finally talked you into meeting up with those pirates once again. You didn’t what to admit it to her, but you were pretty excited. You were curious to find out more about them. Even though they were humans. Or maybe because of that. 

Every braincell in your mermaid body was telling you to swim away from this situation and never look back. But your foolish heart was swimming further, deeper into danger.

“There’s the ship!” Soojin screamed eagerly, pointing in the distance.

“You’re right,” you responded flatly, somewhat awestruck by the way it looked at twilight. The pink sky was painting its sails like magic. As the yellow sun was setting into the sea, you could only think one thing: you had never seen such beauty before in your life. And it scared you that you were already so attached to this new world.

“Come on,” Soojin urged you, swimming way ahead of you.

Your tail had a mind of its own as you followed her, not even bothering to object. You were in too deep. Which was ironic, considering you were swimming across the sea surface, its true depths long forgotten.

“Yeosang!” Soojin sang the boy’s name and started knocking onto the wooden ship. “Come out, you punk! I travelled a long way just to see you.”

Soon enough, the blonde pirate you’d briefly noticed earlier showed up.

“Soojin!” he beamed happily and jumped into the water without thinking twice. “I missed you.”

“Me too, silly,” Soojin stroked his hair sweetly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. You felt as if you were intruding by witnessing their blossoming relationship, so you looked away from them awkwardly.

“You keeping the ring I gave you safe?” Yeosang asked your sister.

“Of course. You trust me?”

Yeosang nodded.

“Even though I only just met you.”

Soojin smiled and buried her head into his chest. You were looking away but something made you curiously sneak a peak or two at them every once in a while. Yeosang’s attention was suddenly on you.

“Did you come to see Seonghwa?” he inquired.

“N-no,” you quickly responded. “I just came to make sure you delinquents wouldn’t hurt my Soojin or something.”

Yeosang scoffed loudly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You groaned in annoyance.

“You want me to call Seonghwa? I’m sure he’d be delighted to talk to you again.”

“If it’s not too much trouble…” you answered ambiguously.

“Be right back,” Yeosang promised and started climbing in an experienced manner back onto the ship.

“Hey, don’t leave me!” Soojin complained.

“Will return in the blink of an eye, love.”

“You better!” Soojin threatened vaguely. “Or else!”

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I spoke honestly to Y/N.

“You and me both,” she replied coldly.

“You didn’t want to see me again?” I asked her in a sad voice.

“Wasn’t planning on it. Soojin dragged me here.”

“Purely against your will?” I suggested.

“Well…I suppose a small part of me was curious…”

“About?”

“You could have just thanked me and that’s it. End of story. You didn’t have to go out of your way to show me all these delicious fruits and spend all this time around me. So…why did you do it?”

“I suppose I was curious, too.”

“About?” Y/N repeated, mocking my voice.

I rolled my eyes.

“You’ll have to stick around to find out,” I responded cleverly, hoping she would fall for the trick and really choose to stay.

“Does it have to be that difficult?” she wanted to know.

“What’s difficult about it? You’re a mermaid and can swim whenever and wherever you want to. I’m a pirate and our ship can go anywhere at any time. It’s a perfect match, don’t you think?”

Y/N shook her head, apparently disagreeing with me.

“You know why I can’t,” she said, her voice strained with pain.

Like I needed a reminder of the woman I’d loved and lost. But maybe, destiny was giving me another choice. To make things right. If not…why had fate decided to send Y/N my way? Could it be a mere coincidence? I didn’t know but I wanted to fight for her.

“How about this…you don’t have to make any promises to stay. But if you’re ever bored, you can swim around the ship and say my name. I’ll answer to your call.”

“What’s with you?” the mermaid chuckled. “Seonghwa.”

“You remembered,” I whispered fondly, suddenly recalling our conversation on the boat.

“I might be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” Y/N joked. “So…will your boyfriend scold you for hanging out with me?”

“How did you figure it out?” I asked.

“Oh, please. Last time he was reeking of jealousy.”

“You can smell that shit?”

Y/N laughed.

“What, you thought having a tail was the only perk about being a mermaid?”

“You’re extraordinary,” I panted, suppressing the urge to bring my face closer to hers. This was wrong.

“I so am,” she smirked confidently. “But seriously, we shouldn’t anger him. You said he was the captain, right? Doesn’t that give him…I don’t know, more power over you?”

I shrugged.

“No one holds power over me.”

“Not even your own heart?” Y/N teased and placed her hand on my chest. This was so wrong, I kept telling myself. Hongjoong could see us any minute if he decided to go out of his cabin.

“N-no,” I stammered unconvincingly, as she approached me like a snake, spreading her poison slowly into my blood.

“Liar,” Y/N whispered and I could feel my heart beating faster.

Then, she pulled away as quickly as she’d gotten closer.

“See, that’s why I don’t want anything to do with you humans. Even the slightest word or movement could make you so weak. It’s pathetic, really. Don’t you think?”

“It’s better than being cold. Or not having a heart.”

She was obviously struggling to keep up the charade of not feeling anything. I could see her swallowing on nothing but air as she was trying to figure out what to say or do next. Like it was a game of chess.

“Fish are cold. I’m part-fish, remember?”

“You’re also part-human, remember?” I shot back wittily. “Since you claim to dislike us so much, you might as well reconsider…aren’t you a bit like me?”

“I’m nothing like you,” Y/N spat out, denying her humanity. “The sooner you realize this, the better.”

“Yes, you are. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be terrified of getting hurt.”

“It’s called self-preservation, you idiot!”

“No. It’s called being human.”

She sighed exasperatedly.

“I’m tired of all this arguing. Let’s just stay here in silence. Please?”

I nodded, finding that silence felt somewhat comforting when I was in her presence. The sun had already set and the moon was shining brightly upon us. Despite the celestial body’s beauty, I could only focus on her. Her face seemed serene but the rest of her was tense. I hesitantly placed my hand on her back. She slightly jumped up in surprise but soon enough, relaxed under my touch. I simply looked at her calmly and expected her to do the same. Maybe this was wrong. But I couldn’t give her up.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

I followed him outside. Quietly. Making myself invisible. It’s what he would have wanted, no? For me not to witness this. Well, what I wanted was make him believe that I hadn’t. But I heard every word. Felt every touch as if it were a dagger in my back. Saw every hidden glance. Even in the dark. Smelt the sea as the wind blew on and on. Tasted the salt on my tongue and the blood as I was biting down on my cheeks to stop myself from screaming. Maybe she was right. I was reeking of jealousy. But I had every right, didn’t I? He had promised something. And even though he hadn’t exactly left, why did it feel like his heart already belonged to someone else? Why did I feel the betrayal shattering my bones like stones being thrown my way? Why was he looking at her like that? I kept repeating to myself that he hadn’t abandoned me, not really. But why did it feel like he had?

My painful thoughts were interrupted by a light touch on my arm. I swiftly turned around, grabbing the hand that had dared approach me. It was Yeosang. I released my hold on him.

“Hyung…don’t torture yourself,” he spoke softly.

“Leave me alone, Yeosang. I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“He would never leave you. You know that, right?”

“What does it look like to you, hm?” I questioned him angrily, barely managing to keep my voice down so that Seonghwa and Y/N wouldn’t find out I was eavesdropping.

“There are people who take more than one significant other, you know? That doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

I closed my eyes, because I was afraid he’d see I’d been crying.

“I can’t share him with anyone. It would kill me.”

“But, hyung, can’t you tell he would do anything for you?” Yeosang insisted. “If you told him to let her go, he would. But is that the kind of boyfriend you’d like to be? You could find a solution. One that makes you both happy.”

“Just drop it, Yeosang. I can’t even consider this right now.”

Yeosang nodded and left. I could tell this wasn’t the end of this conversation. It was only the beginning.

To be continued…

[r0h1rr1m]

rambly inception thoughts p.2

this has been kicked off, specifically, by disliking that i failed to include yusuf in this post but there’s already so much going on there re: exact limits/mechanics of imagination in dreams, how to call down projections, moral relativism, crack chara psych, and speculating on the future of ari’s career--and i explained most of it poorly anyway so it’s probably for the best!

to start with, i’ve always imagined that there’s a huge variety in the caliber/class of chemist u can hire in dreamshare. the title probably applies even to people whose capability starts and stops at sourcing base product for somnacin and/or the finished drug. the next level up can maybe mix up different kinds to standard specifications. idk how much education/training u’d need to be able to do this, bc i v much do not chemistry, but i’d bet there’s a lot of variety in ppl’s qualifications in this category, too. a standard formula might affect different ppl slightly differently, like any psychotropic drug (is that even the most sensible analogy to real-world science? idk and i don’t want to risk hours of ultimately fruitless wikipedia spiralling), but in the same vein, the variances will all probably fall within a reasonable range of the same functionality. without, like, some sort of neuro degree, probably, the most fine-tuning a chemist could do is optimize doses/known variants of the drug through trial and error in preparation for a job.

our man yusuf definitely has a high-level neuro degree

so, just like the rest of the team, yusuf is obviously a total powerhouse in his field. like i said, it must take sophisticated knowledge of brain chemistry in order to do what he did on the fischer job, as well as the same mad genius as the rest of them. (as an aside, can i just say how utterly delightful a team dynamic is “group of geniuses who surround themselves with enough people who are the same kind of batshit to normalize it”? i’m weak) and idk how someone gets famous in like neurochem but yusuf is so brilliant he was probably p well known. js imagine the comedic potential of whatever rising-star chemist meeting yusuf and js going dr. ____?! who published those completely revolutionary but completely balls-to-the-wall studies on x and then after throwing the discipline into an uproar either a) dropped off the face of the earth and is now known as smth of an urban legend/cryptid in the community or b) still corresponds w experts in the field but now about the wildest shit and ppl kind of have to mythologize/not think too hard abt the dude who walks in ppl’s heads in order not to risk js breaking everything

so yusuf knows his shit and his initial assertion that 3 levels is impossible can be trusted to carry a lot of weight. which means the fact that he proceeded to do it more than secures his place in the cast of demonstrable prodigies

now, bc this is ostensibly a continuation of a post that’s loosely focused on charas’ moralities, let’s look at the 2 parts of the movie where we most directly confront yusuf’s: his dream den and hiding the sedation from the team. i’m going with the assumption that any legitimate/legal research and application of dreamshare has been discontinued.

come yell at me for over oversimplifying, but that makes the question of the dream den seem p straight-forward. yusuf faced giving up dreamshare research (or came onto the scene after it was already illegal, which could make for some rly interesting stories abt how he would’ve found out abt it) and couldn’t, so he had to find a way to continue on his own. and since it would be in rly bad faith to assume he doesn’t have the full consent of all his test subjects, that’s js that. (i’m not going to argue abt the difference b/w ethics and morals, and i’m laughably unqualified to discuss the ethics of human experimentation anyway so moving on)

hiding the fact that the team was sedated was a major plot point and is discussed w according frequency, so i’m sure most ppl have their own opinions abt what this says abt the parties involved. i’ll readily admit that my view is heavily colored by the fact that i js plain like yusuf. he’s a likeable guy. (i’ll try not to go off on a tangent, but i know that my reasons for disliking cobb are a little unfair; it’s more about narrative structure than any of his personal failings. the fact is i have a weakness for hypercompetence, and cobb is presented as someone who used to be the best, but is no longer reliable. he shows flashes of his old brilliance running the mr. charles gambit successfully and improvising capitalizing on the appearance of fisher’s browning projection on l2, but he’s desperate enough to be untrustworthy and further, he’s untrustworthy in a way that is eminently predictable by the audience. we know from the get-go that his shade is gonna sabotage something, and it’s hard not to blame him for that. we also know from the get-go that he’s desperate enough to drag other ppl into a fool’s mission, and that he’s hiding something dangerous from arthur, who by all appearances should be the person cobb can trust, and the person to whom it’s most important to know that kind of shit. i’m not gonna pretend i anticipated that big twist in the parking garage on l1, but it makes a ton of sense in retrospect and all this makes it easy to see why cobb is so widely mistrusted/disliked by the fandom. and i went off on a tangent, whoops.)

so picking back up at yusuf is a likeable guy--he seems p friendly and easy-going and i thoroughly enjoyed every scene of him on l1. i’m gonna say a lot of his moral considerations come in the form of deciding what is or isn’t his responsibility. mbe he avoided or suitably resolved the thorny ethical question of human experimentation in the same way i kind of did: by saying that the participants agreed to it on their own and leaving it there. this kind of reasoning is how he would’ve let cobb take responsibility for sedating and then informing the team. it’s also probably how he decided to cue the kick early on l1 and make it everyone else’s problem. which i do think was the right decision! it would be absurd to suggest that this highly intelligent man’s patterns of reasoning are always questionable. but i do see a pattern.

as for the advice he’d give ari, i think a lot of this relates back to my mention in the earlier post of whether or not she could let an institution/legislation dictate her ethics to her. i’ve since decided that it’s simpler to assume the institutions are all outside the law, though, so i’m not going to think abt that anymore unless directly prompted. one thing we do know abt ari, though, in contrast to my suppositions abt yusuf, is that she has a v strong sense of responsibility. she took it upon herself to manage cobb, and she took it upon herself to save the job, fisher, saito, and cobb when it looked like everything had been ruined. thinking abt it now, this makes for further interesting contrast w arthur, whose sense of responsibility seems to revolve around personal loyalty, eames, whose sense of responsibility is acutely pragmatic, and saito, whose sense of responsibility is on the grand scale of stopping a monopoly (suitably ironic).

again, idk if i’ve rly made any kind of point, and now i want to go back and build elaborate hierarchies of skill in each job description (architect, extractor, etc) like i kind of did for chemists but, well. if u made it this far bless u, i hope u have a wonderful day. vote

[hobgayblin]

Ship: Demacia’s Downfall (Rayden/Sylas)

Words: 1931

Summary: Sylas learns Rayden’s full name and they have a little talk abt last names and things

[high kicks] I wrote this at like 1am and was exhausted so it’s kinda bad but I’m too lazy to change it so yeehaw. gay people

“Rayden Vrontí Van Daal”

The name rang out through the camp with the inflection of a mother scolding her child, but twice as loud. Sylas’ brow furrowed as he looked up from his book and towards the open flap of his tent. It was normal for people to be yelling at Rayden, but the accompanying names were new to him. Were it not for the quickness and intensity it was said with, Sylas would have thought it was several people being yelled at. Before he could make a move towards the entrance loud footsteps and hurried shuffling could be heard just outside. Sylas watched as a shadow darted across the front of his tent before the criminal in question frantically scurried inside. His mouth opened but all the words he was going to say flew right out of his head as Rayden’s hands gripped onto his arm and travelled along his shoulders to his back in a similarly rough manner. He craned his head to the side to try and look at the man that was now crouched down behind him, hands latched onto both of his shoulders.

“What are you--”

“SHH-shshshhhh” One of Rayden’s hands sprung up to cover Sylas’ mouth, and the smaller man stood up just a bit so his face was pressed up against his. Though his cheek was squished against Sylas', his eyes were trained on the tent’s entrance.

Several long moments of silence hung in the air as the two stayed completely still. Sylas considered trying to ask again, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind Rayden released him and hid behind him just as fast as he’d grabbed him. Once again his neck craned to the side to look at the curled up man, but he quickly returned his gaze to the front of the tent. Another shadow passed by and stopped just before the entrance. The person casting the shadow poked their head into the tent and scanned around suspiciously before focusing on Sylas and giving a small wave; their hair seemed to be quite puffed out and a bit staticy, as it was sticking to the sides of the tent a bit. Sylas just gave a smile and waved back to the other mage before they disappeared back outside and continued on their way. Once he was sure they were gone he turned himself around so he could see the little ball of lightning magic behind him. 

“How,” Sylas started, putting a hand on Rayden’s shoulder and bringing him out of his ball position, “did you manage to break the rules of a place that doesn’t even have any rules.”

“I simply attract trouble, like a mean little magnet. That’s just how it is.” Rayden straightened himself out into a normal sitting position as Sylas pushed him out of his ball.

“And what sort of trouble have you attracted this time?” Sylas closed his book and set it aside, knowing full well he wouldn’t be getting back to it anytime soon. “They sounded quite cross.”

“Welllll…” The last letter was drawn out for quite a bit before Rayden stopped and took a deep breath. “They were doin’ their hair and I thought it would be fun to mess it up-- just a little bit though-- but I didn’t mess it up just a little bit I messed it up a lot, and they got really mad and they’ve been chasing me around for awhile and, and, uhhh…”

Sylas nodded as Rayden trailed off from his fast-paced explanation and just sat there with a confused look on his face. The confusion quickly subsided and he looked back up at Sylas with a wide grin on his face. He was always so cute when he had a mischievous smile on his face, which was… most of the time. It was impossible to tell if he was planning something else or he simply forgot what he was talking about, but either way Sylas couldn’t help but smile back at him as Rayden continued to look up at him.

“What was it they yelled at you? Rayden…”

“Vrontí Van Daal? Yeah that’s the rest of my name!” 

“Ohh a middle and last name? I didn’t know you were so fancy” Sylas’s voice was a bit mocking, but a good natured kind. “Am I in the presence of royalty?”

“Royalty?” Rayden laughed at the suggestion and slapped Sylas on the shoulder playfully. “The only royal I am is a royal pain in the ass, buddy!” Another peal of laughter came from the man at his own stupid joke. 

“No? Thank the gods I was afraid I’d have to kill you for a second.” Sylas gave a light chuckle himself, mostly due to Rayden’s delight.

“You couldn’t if you tried, pretty boy.” Rayden’s tone became serious for a second as he pointed an accusatory finger at the man. It didn’t stay serious for even a minute before his tone lightened back up.

“I just wanted a cooler name. So I gave myself a cooler name!”

“You… just gave it to yourself?” A confused look spread across Sylas’ face as Rayden just smiled and nodded furiously. 

“Yeah! Why not. I was changing my name anyway might as well go all the way, ya’know?”

“Hm…” To just give yourself a completely new name seemed… Well, it made sense for Rayden, but it still seemed so strange. “Is there a meaning to the name?”

“Meaning?” Rayden tilted his head to the side, matching Sylas’ confused look with one of his own. “It doesn't need a meaning, I just thought it sounded cool.”

“Just because it sounded…” Sylas’ brow furrowed even more as he continued to stare down at the man. “Last names should carry meaning with them. They signify higher society... a purpose.” The names of the Demacian nobles immediately came to mind. Crownguard… Lightshield… Names he detested, but they carried weight with them. To just give yourself something like that seemed almost like cheating. 

“Why?” Rayden’s tone flattened to a more annoyed one. “Is it not enough to simply make you stand out? To differentiate you from others of the same name? To just sound cool?”

“I… I suppose.” The shift in tones wasn’t expected. This wasn’t something he wanted to push too far, on the off chance Rayden would get actually mad about it. “There’s other ways to differentiate, but--”

“Yeah, like adding where you’re from?” The annoyance stayed steady in his voice as he continued the topic himself. “How many Sylases do you think there are in Dregbourne? You think you’re the only one?”

“I-- Well probably not, but--”

“So, why don’t you spice it up a little!” Rayden’s hands flew up into the air as he yelled, causing Sylas to flinch just a bit. “You’re already well known, why not give yourself a cool last name huh?”

“Yes, I’m already known. As Sylas of Dregbourne. As in the most notable Sylas of Dregbourne.” Annoyance started to seed its way into his voice now as well. It was a bit silly to get annoyed about, perhaps, but he didn’t quite like the insinuation his name was too boring.

“Is that how you want to be remembered?” The smaller man’s arms crossed and he sneered up at Sylas. “You want people to know you as some criminal from the slums? You’re so much cooler than that! You could be uh… Sylas MageSomethin… Sylas… Uhh….” He trailed off for a minute, the gears in his head very clearly turning, desperately trying to think of something. 

“Oh! Oh!! Sylas Kingslayer. That’s one you earned!”

That… That one wasn’t an awful suggestion. Sylas’ face softened back up as the annoyance faded. He still didn’t want to just give himself a last name like that, but Rayden did have a point. It was… kind of sweet he cared about his image somewhat. Not that image mattered much, especially not for someone who was already known as one of Demacia’s most wanted criminals. 

“I appreciate the suggestion, but I’m fine with my name as it is right now.” His tone softened along with his expression, softened so much it was only a bit above a whisper.

“Alright, Alright, I’ll drop it.” Rayden pouted a bit as he stared up into Sylas’ eyes. “I just want… I don’t know… You deserve for people to know you as more than just a man named Sylas from the slums of Dregbourne.” 

A smile crept back across Sylas’ face at the sentiment. It was such a strange thing to get hung up on, but it was sweet to know he cared. 

“I can assure you, people aren’t just thinking of me as a Sylas of Dregbourne. They’re thinking of me as the Sylas of Dregbourne, escaped convict, rebel mage, and slayer of their king.” A hand came up and hesitantly hovered to the side of Rayden’s face for a moment before gently settling on his cheek. Rayden absentmindedly nuzzled the hand as he continued looking up into Sylas’ eyes. The smile on Sylas’ face widened. Usually Rayden would have bitten him for touching his face so tenderly, but he’s either decided to accept it, or he just hasn’t noticed yet.

“Perhaps one day I will take a last name.” The gentle smile on his face turned into more of a smirk at this point. “Sylas Van Daal has quite a nice ring to it.”

“Y-Yea-- Hey now wait a minute.” Rayden snapped out of his stupor and used the back of his hand to push Sylas’ hand away from his face. “First you’re out here stealing magic, now you’re tryin’ to steal names too? Huh? Punk?” 

With the words Rayden reached up and grabbed Sylas by the collar, pulling him down so they were eye level. Sylas stifled a laugh as he was brought down and being given quite the stink eye. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually misunderstood him, or if he was intentionally ignoring what he implied, but either way it was cute.

“Nooo, no. I would never steal anything from you, little duckling. I--”

“HEY! Hey! What the fuck!” A light red tinted Rayden’s face at the use of the nickname. Sylas’ smile widened once again as he got exactly the reaction he wanted. “Don’t say that! I’ll fucking maul you, mage boy!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” The sarcasm in his voice was laid on especially thick, just to make sure Rayden got it. “Would you prefer a different name? Little lightning bug? Perhaps simply darling? Or maybe loverboy--”

“OH MY GOD! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!” Rayden threw his arms into the air again, releasing Sylas’ collar in the process. 

As Sylas straightened himself out Rayden’s hands started moving around, wildly gesturing, as he babbled all sorts of barely coherent protests to the pet names. It would have been nice if he’d just accepted the affection, but it was hard to deny that watching him overreact so much was so incredibly entertaining. After a few minutes of his flailing and slinging swears around Rayden took a deep breath and stood still. At first he looked straight ahead, seemingly at nothing, but then Sylas watched his eyes come up and meet his own. As soon as their eyes locked Rayden let out a loud, frustrated scream and turned around, stomping out of the tent with a huff. Once he was gone, Sylas turned and laughed into his hand, with a few snorts coming out periodically as well. Rayden was certainly a strange one, but if nothing else he always knew how to make a scene.

[imaginefan]

I’ll Fix It

Geralt Of Rivia X Reader

Word Count: 752

Requested: Anon

Request: Could we have an imagine abt the witcher’s love interest getting tortured in front of him ? I feel like Geralt isn’t a guy to cry at all, so to see someone not that emotional lose his temper but not cry can be interesting

You and Geralt had been travelling together for a long time, you were a skilled fighter and at first, you were just an asset but slowly you became something more to Geralt and it became more about never losing sight of you rather than using you to get his reward. Geralt didn't know how he did it but he seemed to attract those who wanted adventure and while he wanted nothing to do with Jaskier you encouraged the bard to follow, in not for anything other than better conversation however Jaskier managed to get you into some very sticky situation because of the amount of time he liked to spend in married women's bed.

You were sitting in the tavern with Jaskier when the man walked over "You! You're the one." The man said as he pointed at the bard next to you. "Pointing is rude." You muttered as you looked up at the man. "No one was talking to you woman." He dismissed you and you looked at him and smirked as you stood up drawing your sword and placing it at his neck. "And yet I'm the one that holds the knife to your neck." You smirked, he glared at you and you rolled your eyes. "Maybe we should just leave," Jaskier suggested. "Is that what you want?" You asked as you looked at the door to check that Geralt hadn't walked in. "Yes let's just go." He said and you nodded as you stepped back. "Watch your back little girl, we'll come for you." They warned. "I'll be waiting." You winked before you left with Jaskier.

Now they didn't actually come for you until you left the town, they jumped us, but they seemed to have done their research because they weren't surprised that you were travelling with a Witcher and the moment that they grabbed you Geralt stopped moving. "(Y/N) what is going on?" He asked. "They picked a fight in the tavern and they weren't very good at it." You explained and you looked at the man standing in front of you. "This one had my knife at his neck." He crouched in front of you and slapped you across the face, you smirked as you looked at him and smirked. "I should have killed  you." You threatened. "And now I'll kill you." He smirked, "only after I've made your Witcher bodyguard and your cheating boyfriend suffer." "Jaskier is not my boyfriend." You started and he punched you in the face, you spat the blood out before your eyes moved to Geralt who was now restrained and glaring over at Jaskier, he jerked forwards but the men had a good hold on him, you, however, were slowly cutting the ropes that were holding your wrists together. "I didn't say that you can talk." The man smirked and you looked at him and rolled your eyes. "What do you want?" You asked. "Do you know what happened after he took my wife from me?" He asked. "You mean after your wife left you?" You asked and that earned a foot to your stomach. "Wow, that was aggressive." "I lost everything!" He informed you and you rolled your eyes. "Look I'm sorry that my friend can't keep it in his pants but um this has nothing to do with me. He doesn't have a girlfriend and for good reason to." You explained and the man waited and smirked. "He has commitment issues." Your hands were finally free "not that this wasn't fun but I'll be leaving now."  You moved forward headbutting the guy and knocking him out, you threw a knife into the shoulder one of the men that were holding Geralt and you turned to see that the man that was holding Jaskier was actually halfway back to the village already. "Loyal men you got here."  You looked back to see that the man was face first in the dirt. "Should we just leave them here?" "Hmm." Geralt hummed as he walked overturning your face to inspect the damage before attempting to lift your shirt. "I think we should probably get somewhere safe before you try undressing me." You suggested. "Get on the horse." He ordered. "I can walk." You argued. "Horse." He said again as he walked over to one of the bodies and pulled your knife out of the body. "I think he might be upset with us," Jaskier whispered. "Don't worry I'll fix it." You winked before climbing onto Roach as Geralt had asked.

Requests and general question!

[overthelillies]

fic recs for my friends

yeah okay so most/all of these are davekat im sorry!! arranged in no particular order also some of them are second person I Am Sorry.

Your Interpersonal, Intergalactic Relationship: A Beginner's Guide (8,400-something words)

A beginner's guide to playing hopscotch, overcoming internalized homophobia, and falling in love with your alien best friend.

friends to lovers! p cute

So It Goes (56,845 words)

They managed to win the game somehow. He's not really sure of the details, but it's not all it's cracked up to be. He's stuck in an unfamiliar body with a thirteen year old little brother who's terrified of him.

Somehow, he is sure this is his fault.

// i have not read this one. but strider angst and davekat yes please

Red Converse (26,648 words)

Due to a seizure, Karkat Vantas now has to learn how to live his life with two speech aphasia. He goes to therapy three times a week, suffers from awful headaches, and tries to avoid people as much as possible.

Due to a traumatic experience, Dave Strider refuses to use his words, preferring to relay his snarky comments and witty banter through sign language and typing on his phone.

They meet in a waiting room.

//THIS IS REALLY GOOD Altho they do have sex just skip it dw i promise it’s worth it

how...did you tell your friends (7,906 words)

Unfortunately, you don't fancy your brother's suggestion on how to break the news to John...

There's no other way out of it, you're going to have to just tell him.

//set after homestuck, dave tries to tell the most oblivious person in the world and also his best friend (john) that he and karkat are dating and it’s literally so good

Dave Strider’s Stupid Fucking Jawline (11,607 words)

Generic high school AU. Dave's jawline is really distracting and Karkat does NOT have a crush on him (shut up, Kanaya).

//high school au. lovely. good eating.

Gray and Red (16,084 words)

In which you only see color once you meet your soulmate, and the first color you see is the same as your soulmate's eyes.

//SOULMATE AU SOULMATE AU this is kinda very Angsty (Karkat do be pining doe) it’s p good

We’re All Friends & Family Here (And Frankly, We’re Sick Of Your Shit) (68,000 somethin words)

It's been about a year since the big Fast Forward, and sure, things on Earth C aren't perfect for everyone. But they're fine. Really. It's fine. Everything is super fuckin' swell, and that's that.

It's not like one night is going to change anything.

//post homestuck GOD THIS. IS SO GOOD okay so this fic is mainly dirkjake being fucking stupid with rosemary and davekat and also a lil roxy/calliope in the bg and it’s long but!!!! so very good

Red Ties (10,705 words)

Dave Strider's eyes never turned the color of his soulmates. With his rare eye-color, there's next to no chance they simply share an eye color.

One day he meets Karkat Vantas.

//another cute soulmate au! again. love the soulmate aus what can i say

i’m at the combination dunkin donuts & urgent care (3,920 words)

Karkat Vantas is convinced beyond a doubt that his neighbor is some variety of murderer, until they actually meet in person. Highlights include blood at the laundromat, Dave's weird obsession with candles, and a box of shitty swords.

//this is SO FUNNY short n sweet i promise

the calculation (2,481 words)

the fic in which Dave gets the flu for the first time since before the game and Karkat takes care of him.

//this fic is really funny and also sweet

Start At The Beginning (9,304)

//post-homestuck, Dave and karkat falling in love. the ending to thsi made me cry

I Love Cheap Thrills (4,773 words)

You’ve been trading memes with an international pop sensation, and your drunk ass had no idea.

Classic.

//this one is verrie funnie

Locked Up (9,272 words)

Dave had always been the one best prepared for the game. He was able to handle the shit it threw at them and push it down a lot better than everyone else could.

It might have fucked up everything else about him, but that didn't matter.

He was fine.

He was always fucking fine.

//angst. very nice

I’d Tap That (oh fuck i didn’t mean to tap that) (17,041 words)

Karkat finds his old school bully on Grindr. Dave doesn't know how to shut up.

// really funny!! sorry if these are getting redundant i don’t remember the details about some of these

Pale as Bone, Pale as Water (5,305 words)

//another davekat sickfic

Apple Juice, Chips, and Bandages (5,335 words)

Every time he comes in he gets the same three things. A bottle of apple juice, a bag of chips, and bandages.

//really cute!! they’re liddol and they’re friends it’s nice

The Land of Blood and Childhood Trauma (8,242 words)

When two dreambubbles collide, two anti-social assholes are forced to help each other through it.

//not quite as Angsty as it sounds! it’s good

ecdysis (6,077 words)

Karkat goes through his adult molt. Dave does his best to take it in stride.

//so i actually haven’t read this thought I did but Uh have it anyway it looks good

Self Sabotage and Other Symptoms of a Damaged Soul (10,698 words)

//basically dave grapples with his internalized homophobia, etc. very good

turntechGodhead is offline (36,999 words)

//I’ve already ranted to you guys enough about this you know what it’s abt it’s SO FREAKING GOOD

A Ten Step Plan For Wooing Karkat Vantas, Featuring A Multitude Of Illustrations By Your Esteemed Authors, As Well As Tips For The Aforementioned Wooing (11,261 words)

Kanaya, because she's a saint, makes you a list.

The list is entitled "A Ten Step Plan For Wooing Karkat Vantas" and features a multitude of illustrations in purple pen.

"So we're doing this," you say. Your mouth threatens to twitch into something dangerously smile-shaped.

"Yes," says Kanaya. "We are making this happen."

"Hell yes."

//dave n karkat! they go on a date. stuff happens. it’s really good

Catching Colds on a Rock in the Middle of Space (15,887)

Rose catches a bad cold and it slowly spreads to the rest of the meteor crew. None of them are particularly good at admitting they're sick, let alone looking after themselves, but at least they're decent at caring for each other.

//rosemary and davekat! VERY sweet

Dave’s Girl (2,527 words)

The thing is no one knew anything more about "Kitty" other than her delicious cooking (Dave obviously doesn't want to share – ever) but the guys are more or less already in love with her. Drew insists she's probably this blond bombshell with big, blue eyes, all curves with legs that go on forever and a great rack... Practically everyone in the team has their own opinion.

//this is so funny and also im a sucker for these kinds of tropes so it’s great

Songs Made on the Meteor (27,762 words)

Dave makes music and they fall in love.

//on my to-read list! it looks good

Looks Just Like The Sun (12,231 words)

“Holy shit,” you whisper. Dave joins you at the window.

There are no stars left in the sky. Nothing but blackness and a faint soap bubble sheen.

“Is that a dream bubble?” Dave says.

And then it swallows you.

//okay. does this have explicit sex? yes. does it have a very explicit image? yes. HOWEVER (hear me out here) I firmly believe that if you whizz pass those parts, this is a very good fic with great characterization and fun banter. send tweet

aight happy reading

[shelikesthosefunnypeople]

Pls explain more abt the ancient history thing b I’m very interested

Hello anon!

I know this was sent in months ago and I should have replied to it then but I’m a master procrastinator and life has been strange (before coronavirus kicked off I was in the middle of preparing for exams). Anyway, I’m happy to answer this.

I made a post in the distant past, basically saying that I think there is a view that history before 1800 is somehow less intellectual and that this is rooted in sexism. That post is here. Allow me to explain and please bare in mind that this is all just my opinion and is based off my experiences.

Apologies for the length.

Firstly, I love history. I’m a complete geek for it. I think it’s important, interesting and with a bit of luck I’ll be studying it at university soon. Therefore, this isn’t a post where I try to claim that actually history before 1800 is superior... because that’s just dumb. History is history and while historians can have personal preferences over which period they find most interesting, that doesn’t make that period “better” than any others. Literally. I mean, everything leading up to the present day didn’t happen in isolated, distinct boxes and all of it is useful to understanding how modern society has developed.

It makes sense that there is a general interest in “modern history”. After all, it is interesting and we have more information about it thanks to technological developments. The 20th century was a time of massive change if you compare 1900 to 2000 - although, I’m sure it’s easy for us to see the difference, seeing as the 20th century wasn’t so long ago in the grand scheme of things and many people who are alive today lived through a part of it. I’m sure people living in the early part of any century probably thought (if they had access to history) that the start and end of the previous century were hugely different. Nevertheless, I agree that the 20th century is quite profound in this respect, at least at the moment. In 100 years, who knows?

The 19th century also offers us a lot more remnants than its predecessors and I think culturally is still viewed as important. Some people have a rose tinted view of the 19th century. In Britain, I’d say it is seen by those of a certain political persuasion (check out Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg) as a time of peak Britishness(TM) and nationalistic pride... although that narrative is simplistic and disregards the suffering of the colonies and indeed the working classes of Britain, who had to prop up all this “greatness”. Anyway, I’m sure if you found a stuffy 19th century bloke, he would tell you how his society’s morality has gone to complete shambles and that he yearns for a bygone era that only really exists in his mind. I guess that’s just what some people always do. Conservatives, eh?

I’ll actually get to the point now.

At my college, there were two history courses available: modern (involving subjects such as the Russian Revolution and Britain from about 1950-2007) and pre-modern (involving subjects such as the crusades and the English Reformation). I took the latter course and was in a class of 18, where there were 13 girls and 5 boys. Generally, the modern history classes were weighted in the opposite way, which simply suggests that at my particular college with my particular year group, boys had a preference for modern history and girls for pre-modern. I would argue that this preference appears to be more widespread in general, but that’s not definite.

The fact that this difference existed is not the problem. The problem is what people perceived this difference to mean.

I was told by a boy (not a nice boy, so not a representation of everyone) who was studying history that the course I was taking was “the gay version”. That, of course, is a puerile insult for 2020 and highlights his maturity level - all history is very, very gay and if you take issue with that then I don’t know what to tell you. Get your head out of your arse, maybe? But anyway... why did he feel superior about studying a different bit of history?

It wasn’t just him. A (male) teacher once told me that the history course I had chosen wasn’t as useful as the other one and that the only use it had was that I could apply transferable essay writing skills to my other subjects. Which was bollocks, might I add. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t a history teacher.

So, where were these views coming from? Why was the English Reformation - which was basically 16th century Brexit - seen as lesser than the Russian Revolution? The obvious argument one could make is that events that have happened more recently are more important and have more of an impact today. However, without the events of the years before them, would these events have happened either? Does the Church of England not still exist? Do we not have a statue of Richard the Lionheart in Westminster (because we like giving statues to tossers, apparently)?

In my opinion, the answer to this odd hierarchy of time periods lies in gender socialisation and the propensity of people to view history in the same way they view fiction. We know that the traditional male/female gender socialisation patterns are different: boys are socialised to be “tough”, “leaders”, “aggressive” etc. whilst girls are socialised to be “submissive”, “friendly”, “polite” etc. This is hopefully changing now but inbuilt, subconscious biases about the genders and what quantifies masculinity and femininity are still around. There is the stereotype of boys being interested in war due to the toys they were given to play with. Surprise, surprise - warfare in the 20th century alone was vastly different to anything that had come before it and, as I said, due to technology we have more archived about it. I’m not suggesting that only boys are interested in historical war - again, that’s a stereotype. Anyone can be interested in war, 20th century or otherwise. Despite this, I’m not going to pretend there still aren’t those guys who get waaaay into warfare and that their interest and knowledge in history is largely confined to that subject.

And that’s fine! You know, as long as you don’t start worshipping Hitler or anything equally creepy. People aren’t experts on every little bit of history and are allowed to have stereotypical interests.

Yet, that still doesn’t explain completely why “modern history” is viewed as more intellectual, just because maybe it appeals slightly more to men (apart from the obvious that anything men like is viewed as superior in some way).

As historical societies are notably different to our own - especially on the surface - and because there is so much historical fiction that seeks to romanticise it, it is not massively surprising that many people do see history as an extension to fiction. It’s gone, we live in the now, lots of people don’t even believe history matters. The fantasy genre has a habit of adopting historical (often medieval) settings for its tales. It’s an obvious example but Game of Thrones was a retelling of the Wars of the Roses, amongst other things. I think when fantasy is applied to history it makes it seem even less real than it may already and this can lead to it being taken less seriously (though please do watch Horrible Histories or Blackadder and take the piss out of all time periods because humans of every age have been fallible). Of course, it is far easier to romanticise and play around with times that are further from our own because they are further detached and therefore more fantastical. This plays into post-1800 being seen as more “real” and “intellectual”.

Some men who wish to keep women out of the historical circle accuse them of only being interested in history because of “romance” or “fancy dresses” - princesses and knights and fairytales. This is more a low down problem with internet trolls than actual, published historians but the issue still stands. If you view “pre-modern” history through this veil of fiction then it must seem rather childish compared to the stark brutality of the World Wars and the political rise of the New Right in the West. However, conversely, it could also be argued that the nationalism and legend attached to recent warfare makes it equally comparable to a story. Not a happy story but then, Game of Thrones isn’t a happy story either.

I don’t think anyone serious about history actually believes that the romantic, fantastical elements attached to any historical periods are 100% true. Hopefully, most people don’t see them as proof that being interested in a certain period makes you better than someone who is interested in another period. Any period can be romanticised, including the “modern” one - Titanic, anyone? Not to mention the frilly view we have of the Victorians (although that’s not silly because of the Britishness(TM), remember). Actually, using history in fiction and even making fiction about history isn’t even a bad thing and I certainly encourage it. I just think that the truth shouldn’t be conveniently forgotten by those with weird superiority complexes who think that because The Tudors was all about love trysts and fine clothing, the entire period is “girly” and a write off.

What am I saying amongst this rambling mess? The next time you see a girl going through her Ancient Egypt phase, don’t roll your eyes. Not if you wouldn’t do the same when you see a boy with an interest in WW2 tanks. Whichever way people come to their interest in the past is valid (apart from the creepy fascist worshipping I mentioned). A lot of things in our world are gendered when they shouldn’t be; history should be equally open to all and although there is a focus on the past 200 years (just look at the uni modules on offer), that doesn’t mean that if you are interested in the years before, your interest isn’t valid enough.

I hope I’ve managed to explain myself properly and have gotten through how gender plays into this sufficiently. I know this is a very niche thing to have an opinion on and I’d like to stress again that this is just my opinion and you are free to disagree with me. That said, if you send me hate then don’t expect a proper response.

Thanks for the ask!

[pirotehnist]

Farmer's Market- Chapter 6!

(Ok so first of all tw for: needles, mentions of death, body horror but not too much, sedation, violence, uuh what was left,,, idk this dude scrathes his hands?? Bc hes in pain? And i also talk abt his veins? Dunno pals just,, heads up)

The following morning the weather seemed to change drastically. The sky had gone grey and the wind was blowing, and it certainly wasn't helping that Monday and Toby have been keeping their window open since 5 AM.

-Doesn't this city make you sad? Monday asked out of the blue.

-I don't… understand you. ‘Not only now. Most of the time.’ thought Toby.

-I mean, do you realise it's a graveyard? We're a graveyard and a freak show altogether.

Toby stayed silent.

-I died, you did so too, and the Lady, and Marlene, and the people I passed on the street. We're dead. And Mr. Griffin's invisible and Salvador keeps his own head in a jar.

-Would you rather he keep someone else's? Toby couldn't stop himself. It seemed that whenever Monday was in a mood he was in… the opposite one.

-It wouldn't make a difference to me, she shrugged. Who knows what kind of freaks lurk in the shadows of this town.

Monday got up and streched once again. She was a little bit taller than Toby. Outside of their room they could hear voices talking, but couldn't make out what was being discussed.

They had their schdule planned out for the day. Almost everyone wanted to go to the library. Except for Pica and Maisie, who were out for a stroll in the city. And, well, Salvador, who only got out of his room to go to the kitchen, put an empty bottle next to the trash can and get a bottle of water. With bags under his eyes big enough to store the contents of a small supermarket, he just shook his head at the possibility of joining the others.

-We gotta keep an eye on him today. Make sure he eats at least once and doesn't touch another drop of liquor, sighed the Lady.

As the weather worsened she had to borrow some warmer clothes, and unfortunately Salvador was the only one whose clothes fit on her. ‘Well, you can't be 6'3 in a house of 5'7s and not expect any throwbacks’ she thought.

She couldn't just waltz right in and take a sweater from his closet, as Griffin usually suggested, so she made her request as short as possible. Salvador didn't mind.

The only other one who needed something warmer was Toby, but he had more luck. A raincoat was simply borrowed from Griffin and he was done.

Speaking of Griffin, he had his head pressed against the coffee table, as he had been having a terrible headache. He managed to bury himself into a sweater that looked like it belonged to someone at least a foot taller, which was because it did. It hung weirdly on him, considering the fact that he had no discernable form once again.

-Griffin, sweetie, remarked the Lady, maybe you should get visible again. You scared the librarian real bad last time, remember?

The other got up, mumbling something about being dizzy. He seemed wobbly, and the Lady tried to help him as he went up the stairs, but he shook his head. For a minute or so the others stood in silence, unsure of wether or not they should speak. And then it happened. The lights were on, the TV was on, and then they started flickering. The wind was roaring, the house felt like it might collapse. And as a horrible, painful shriek was heard from upstairs, the Lady shot up and rushed up the stairs, with the others following.

Griffin's room. And in the doorway stood Salvador, calmly inspecting the scene.

The room was immaculate, electrical machinery and chemicals arranged on the desk. And on the floor, in the middle of it all, Griffin.

The shriek had turned into a choked sob. He was oscillating between visible and invisible, shaking from head to toe. The room reeked of rubbing alcohol. His veins were clearly visible, and it was a horrendous sight.

-I am going to die! he spat out, sobbing. Something's wrong, wrong, again!

He was clawing at the top of his own hands, so hard he drew blood. He pressed his forehead against the rug and seemed to throw up a bit.

Salvador dug frantically through his drawers, and unwrapped a syringe. He took out a small vial, containing a liquid. He pierced the top and drew from it.

Griffin looked up with wide, red eyes and seemed perhaps a bit soothed when he saw it.

-Where do I inject it? Salvador calmly asked him as he lowered to his eye level.

-Is this, the Meda, you- you know, Mezadol?

‘Midazolam’ whispered the Lady, elbowing Toby. No one made a sound.

Griffin shakily extended a pale, bony wrist. It was… almost transparent. You could clearly see veins and bones, but that was about it.

Salvador seemed oddly calm about the situation. He counted the seconds between each doze, and it must've taken about 2 minutes. Griffin seemed to calm down, and stopped shaking. In the meantime, he made Griffin drink from another bottle, which had a light blue tint.

-Thank you, he whispered softly.

Salvador picked him up and laid him on his bed. His face was ghastly white, and some parts of him were still invisible to different degrees.

Lady Alligator was the first to break the silence.

-What in the world just happened?

-I'll get back to that in a minute, Salvador barely managed to answer before he quickly made his way to the nearest sink, in the bathroom down the hall, and threw up. Perhaps he wasn't as calm as he seemed.

He practically collapsed on the nearest chair as soon as he came back, and let out a sigh. Griffin was already unconscious by now.

He then got a small pack of bandages and bandaids, applied a disinfectant and started patching up the other's hands.

-This happened before, he sighed. Only once. He walked me through the process. This thing does something to his blood. If I was too slow he could've died before I even got to him. His heart would've stopped and… that was it.

He took Griffin's hand and looked closely at the blue veins that seemed to be floating above his hand.

-The chemicals I gave him, with the blue tint, are there to somehow fixate him. They keep him in his current state. Although, he was fully visible when it last happened.

-It must've been because of how the power kept going on and off earlier, stated Adalana. I remember him telling me once about something to do with electricity, I don-

-Hold on! Spoke up Salvador. He. Told you? he squinted. I've known him for years and he spoke about it only once. You've known him for about a day.

The Lady's expression could only be described as ‘I shouldn't have said that.’

-Adalana, he pressed on. How long have you known him for?

-He… worked with me for a bit, she shrugged.

-How long?

-Aaaaabout a year? she grimaced. But you can't blame me! You know I keep my work private. He's a damn good physicist and was useful in some cases.

-‘‘Can't blame’’ you? I can! he shouted. He's my best friend. You're my best friend too, he groaned. And, you two? The hell!

-It was work! Why are you so worried? she mused. You're way too protective with him, let the man have a life! The worst that can happen is for him to get hypothermia, AGAIN! Adalana rolled her eyes. And you already know how to handle that one.

God those poor souls in the doorway, who felt like they were watching their parents argue with no idea why.

-Let's just… leave mom, dad and our unconscious weird uncle to themselves, sighed Marlene. Come on, let's go downstairs. I want coffee and don't know how to make it.

A few minutes later, down came the Lady.

-What 'appened? asked Toby.

-Well, one thing's for sure. He sure ain't coming with us. He almost collapsed while talking, so I tried to take him to his room. But nooo! Our dear Griffin might wake up disoriented and panic! So long story short I moved in an armchair from whichever room was closer and he's trying to sleep in that one.

-And? piped up Pygmalion. We're still going to the library or not?

-As soon as we're all ready.

Which they were, so all 5 people managed to fit into the Lady's car, with Monday having shotgun privileges. Mainly because she was quiet.

Salvador was woken up by the sound of the doorbell, and the very weak shake of a hand on his shoulder.

Griffin still felt a bit confused when he woke up. And dizzy. He looked down at his hands. Patches ranging in visibility. They looked quite sickening to him. And on an armchair next to his bed, Salvador. His head was still exposed, he had been way too busy to even remember putting it back in its jar. Was he upset by him? He surely hoped not. Oh, that would hurt quite a bit.

And then came the horrid sound of the doorbell, echoing through the house. It almost pained Griffin, who was still adjusting to lights and sounds. Without thinking, he reached forward and lightly shook Salvador by the arm. Even sitting up still seemed quite an effort to him.

-Vince, he whispered.

He wondered if it came out wrong. It seemed too friendly for their situation. Still, ‘‘Salvador’’ seemed too cold.

-Vincent, he repeated. The door. Wake up.

The other opened his eyes and stared at him intently. They made an interesting contrast with eachother. Red eyes and green ones, white and black hair-

But that's not what matters right now.

-How do you feel? asked Salvador.

-I'm ok. Not in pain anymore, so that's better.

-You've gotten careless with your transformation, Jack. This is serious. And one day it could kill you.

That also seemed an interesting choice of names to Griffin. Yes, Salvador had quite a variety of names to choose from for him. ‘‘Jackson Claude Griffin’’ he remembered Salvador repeating after him when they first met. First and last time he heard him say it. Salvador prefered something shorter. ‘‘Griffs’’, in public mostly. ‘‘Jack’’ was… it felt weird. It was for the serious moments. Aaaand he was overthinking things again.

But even if he wasn't, he still wouldn't have an answer to give to him.

Salvador got up, and went to answer the door.

-Don't get up, he ordered.

He walked across the yard. The air was pleasantly cool, and it felt quite nice. For the first few seconds, because afterwards it just felt cold.

He opened the small gate. But instead of a familiar face, there were-

Two masked shapes. Shit. The blow of a bat, and Slavador was out cold. Laughter.

-Let's drag 'im into the house, hissed the taller one. Rabbit mask, feminine voice.

-And if he's not alone? asked the one with the cat mask.

-Nothing violence or chloroform won't solve.

These two were clearly either careless or incompetent. Might have had something in the system. Two masked criminals, in broad daylight, who… rang the doorbell.

The first thing Griffin heard were loud voices, which were normal for the area. Might have been hooligans knocking something over. He was almost right. Poor guy only understood what was going on when it was too late.

Just as he went down the stairs and rested on the couch for a moment, Rabbit slammed the door behind her as Cat dragged Slavador into the room.

-Don't try something funny, she warned him. Know you're just an inconvenience for us.

Rabbit was headed for the kitchen, and lazily hummed a song as she worked on… something

Cat propped Salvador up on the couch. ‘Here's my chance’ thought Griffin. He had to do something. He tried to grab the feeble butter knife rested on the coffee table. Better than nothing. But before he could even get up-

A hand grabbed Griffin by the collar. The tip of something sharp and cold was rested on his back.

-Sit down.

Atta boy. Rabbit's back.

His mouth was covered by a damp rag

-Breathe in this. It'll be enough for us to have a talk with your friend right there, who's been napping for- she checked her watch -3 minutes. Musta' been a mean punch, you wouldn't want the same to happen to you.

‘Chloroform,’ thought Griffin as he finally remembered the name of the substance. ‘Oh for God's sa-’

[kingofthewilderwest]

it kinda bugs me how they cant make httyd3 longer just so they can emphasize the story in a deeper meaning, like your post abt it being disproportionate. httyd3 had a LOT more plot than httyd2 and we can already see how it has to cramp so much and why that makes D2's pace felt pretty fast. the structure of the story is actually well planned.. perfect, to be exact! but the execution like putting pauses, necessary humor, longer dialogue, is whats needed to make it um, understandable? im not sure..

this isnt meant to judge the movie as bad though! but its a question ive been asking why they cant do it longer, for that sake. is it the budget? was Dean really certain the script is okay? or is it meant to be like this so people can interpret the movie their way? (oof that one is confusing).. i dont know, i want to ask about your thoughts on that >

From this.

It’s an interesting conversation for sure! I believe that THW doesn’t have to be longer to be extremely successful in the ideas it needs to convey! The core ideas being:

Toothless cannot be a wild dragon and strong alpha leader with humans. Other dragons probably deserve the respect of needing wild dragon needs, too.

Humans like Grimmel are extremely dangerous to dragons and will continue to arise, so dragons need to go to an area separate from humans to live in optimal peace.

Hiccup and Toothless’ powerful friendship will separate (insofar as physical location) due to the first two points

I know you’re not the only person I’ve talked to who wanted a longer time because you feel like certain elements were cramped, needed more breathing room, or that dangerous plot points didn’t get enough sense of weight. More time would presumably give that flow and sense of scale and danger. Now, it’s true that more time would give us more content to develop these things. That said, I believe solutions aren’t always “add more.” Creating good art isn’t about adding new things; it’s about knowing when to take away or alter, and how to make every second of your creation count optimally.

I remember when I was doing my music composition degree, my instructors hammered into me what would make a good final piece: the editing process of deleting measures - even measures that were really good! - because they didn’t fit what the final product needed. It’s painful to delete, but ultimately, it’s freeing; instead of making a music piece more cluttered to put all possible good ideas in, I can make it less cluttered, more manageable, more beautiful, more meaningful, and more effective to audiences. A better overall piece isn’t putting in every good idea I have; it’s leaving the piece with the beautiful ideas it needs.

I suggest The Hidden World doesn’t need added materials so much as it needs refining what’s already there.

Budget, production green lighting, and carefulness to the script all seem to have been done. HTTYD 3 was given a longer production time than originally planned. They pushed back the date exactly so they could make their best product. Interviews with people like DeBlois and Spielberg (who read several definitions of the script) talk about how much the script was transformed and bettered through its drafts. They did enough tweaking and care to rework the script. As for budget, the movie was 129 million USD, which sure was the cheapest of the HTTYD trilogy to create, but it’s about on par with what DreamWorks has spent on other movies like Home and Trolls - it’s not like there was skimping - and it’s all about making your money count, which I think this glorious, top notch animation quality film effectively did. So from what I’ve heard, I think production ran fine and we can’t question THW there.

I think most of THW’s problems can be solved simply by tweaking how scenes go down, taking a few small elements out, and adding a few small elements in. It doesn’t need time changes; it needs internal modifications to what’s already there. What I propose wouldn’t change much of the movie’s length - though maybe I we could add 5-8 minutes for things like a longer climax.

1. To Feel Less “Cluttered” or “Rushed”

The movie didn’t feel rushed to me or too cluttered, but it’s cluttered. You’re right. In addition to creating less clutter, my suggested tweaks will clear up time THW can spend elsewhere, streamline THW into fewer palatable essential ideas, and give a slight tone makeover that will add more sense of danger and conflict that THW needs.

Fewer humor side gags with minor characters (and less time spent on them). The gang’s antics are fun additions, yes, but that doesn’t mean they’re central to what the plot needs. Spending too much time with them adds clutter and takes away from plot-central, tone-central material. There’s a huge gaggle of gags in THW, more than any movie needs in a less-than-two-hour-long run time. Do we need all these to give THW its comic relief? Don’t get me wrong - I loved the humor - but time needs to be prioritized, and the movie will be improved once “less is more.”

Less time with Tuffnut’s pep talks. This goes with my first point. This comedic gag was lengthy in particular. It’s in part because it connects to the idea of Hiccstrid marrying, which THW does make more central in its themes. However, I also propose:

Spend less time (or delete) the will-they won’t-they marry Hiccstrid plot. THW intends to parallel Hiccup and Toothless maturing into adulthood, including their romantic connections. However, a will-they won’t-they marry subplot in Hiccstrid isn’t needed to create that parallel. Not to mention: it can be uncomfortable to have this undertone of romance as “required” adulthood maturation, and the fact that Hiccstrid are so close and intimate makes it feel “off” that they’re so uncomfortable talking about marriage. Spend less time here, simply make fans aware they’re going to marry in the future but not today, and return to the main relationships THW needs to pay attention to: that of Hicctooth and Nightlight. 

2. To Make Grimmel a Greater Sense of Threat

One of the central points is that Grimmel is extremely dangerous and represents one of many humans that’ll continue to be a threat to dragons. While Grimmel can be overcome, Hiccup will need to interact with Grimmel in such a way he can understand that dragons and humans cannot coexist in today’s civilization without continuing to risk danger, and that it’s best for everyone to live happily in two separate civilizations. It’s not being defeated by the enemy’s oppression, but taking a brilliant countermeasure to give humans and dragons both a better existence.

Making Grimmel feel like a greater sense of threat, and helping audience members understand what Grimmel represents overarchingly of humanity’s current antagonistic state, will help us and Hiccup process why a separation is best. This can be done by:

Show Grimmel’s impact on human society. All we’d have to do is change what his base looks like: it could be located in an area taken over from another human civilization, showing his army’s power and place in this world over humans.

Greater weight placed on Berk’s exodus. The Hooligans lost their home, but it’s played too lightly. It’s not written optimally as an emotionally impacting or destabilizing moment, which decreases the sense of threat Grimmel has. Instead of having the Hooligans excited to find New Berk, show them grieving. They can butt against Hiccup’s ideas of finding the Hidden World, but instead in a way where they’re frustrated at his naive solution and hurt at what they left behind. This isn’t adding time to THW; this is tweaking phraseology and presenting an event differently.

Change how Berk is abandoned. To make the attack feel more dire, threatening, either: 1. Have the Hooligans more reluctant and grumpy to leave in the town meeting, and not play the leaving scene so lightly, or 2. Have Grimmel chase them out of Berk so they have to flee then and there. This might even reduce time! 

Show Grimmel’s power over dragons. We could have a few-second-long flashback of him standing over a field of dead Night Fury bodies, or have his place cloaked in dragon skins or skulls. 

Show Grimmel’s power as a warlord. Grimmel acts in almost a solo fashion, despite cooperating with warlords and having an army. It doesn’t give us a good sense of scale. Show his interactions better with the whole of his forces to make him feel more dangerous, and for humanity as a whole to feel more like a threat against dragons. For example, in the scenes where he’s trying to trap the dragon riders, show him commanding more people.

Show Grimmel’s impact on the dragon (and/or human worlds) through landscape. What if, as the Hairy Hooligans try to find a new place to stay, they fly over several islands that have been destroyed by Grimmel’s forces? Either human civilizations, or homes once havens to dragons, with characters making comment they “hope” people got away. And what if, when Grimmel takes their dragons near the end of THW, it’s again through more violence and a raid and fire and destruction? 

Conversations more clearly talk about Grimmel’s dangers over dragons and humans, and how he’s one of many people that’ll arise. This idea is embedded in THW dialogue, but not clearly enough to fully grasp its weight, especially not in the sense we see characters grasp this. Have Hiccup and Astrid and Valka or something talk about how widely destructive Grimmel is, how even once he’s gone another man like him will take his place, and that while they may continue to fight and win for human and dragonkind, it’s ultimately not the right move to make for everyone to live safest and alive. A conversation laying this out makes a world of difference in our understanding of what dangers are going down and why we need to come to the solution THW concludes with. Again, this isn’t adding time; it’s changing phraseology. 

Add a few minutes to the climax. Make the final fight with Grimmel obviously the final fight, the threat bigger, the action more intense.

Perhaps show that Berk’s done good work changing the world by their choices. Even though Berk ultimately decides to let the dragons go, they are meant to be the voice of peace that changes their world. The good guys can’t resign to letting themselves live under the thumb of bad guys’ choices. Show that they’ve made a difference - Grimmel and his armies are gone and the world is regrowing (no more torched landscape, if we add that element in) - but that it’s still going to help their world by letting dragons go, too… for this generation, at least.

3. To Make Hiccup and Toothless’ Parting Jive Better

Hiccup and Toothless separate out of need - they can’t live in the same place for the better of both their kinds. However, since the movie spends so much time on Toothless chasing after the Light Fury, we don’t get that full sense of need. I propose:

Open THW with a clear Hicctooth sappy bonding moment. We need things like “Forbidden Friendship” and “Where No One Goes” to feel the power of Hicctooth’s love. Give us that starting sense in THW of how close they are before adding in the complications. It can even be done by tweaking how the opening fight scene goes down.

Show dragons profiting by living with humans, but it also being Complicated with their wild side. We need to acknowledge that the relationship between humans and dragons has done the dragons good, too! Otherwise it might feel incongruous with the rest of the franchise.

Show dragons being unfit in the urban area through their own restlessness. The movie tries to show this with Moosie Boi being too big for Berk, and Berk being so crowded with dragons Gobber finds the soup unsanitary. But if we see Stormfly restless and want to leave for the Hidden World, too, wouldn’t this say something more about where dragons are pulled to and belong?

Less time spent on Toothless investigating the Night Fury. You can’t cut this down too much or we’ll feel like rushing, but since THW focuses so much on just Toothless and the Light Fury’s connection rather than an overarching problem for dragons, it’s hard to feel the full-scale issues of the problem. Making it just him and her feels more like a hook up love story than “dragons and humans are incompatible for their needs.”

Change Toothless’ body language. Show more emotional division in Toothless about his conflicting options. Show him hesitant to leave Hiccup and the two interact over that. Show him lonely away from his kind when with Hooligans. Show him feeling that loneliness met - that deep emotional need of being with his own species - when he’d thought was lost to him (rather than focusing on it being a romantic hookup interest). This doesn’t take more time; it tweaks what was already given on screen.

Change Toothless’ emotions with the Light Fury to feel more like loneliness being met than horny boi practicing kissing with a rock. This does a better job of showing that Toothless has a deep need that needs to be met as a wild animal and as a social draconic species.

Change conversations Hiccup has with humans about Toothless’ struggle. Maybe have Hiccup processing less with people and more by himself or with Toothless. Don’t write the conversations with people be about “Toothless has a girlfriend” and “of course he left.” Discuss instead how Night Furies are social creatures and Toothless hasn’t been with his kind in six years - that’s a huge hole in his heart being filled. Validate the deep connection Hiccup and Toothless have, while simultaneously acknowledging the struggle of this moment now. The movie shows that the Light Fury can never be domesticated, so I think that’s fine, but maybe one line from Astrid saying, “I don’t think she’ll come to live with us,” would be enough to help other audience members pick that up too.

More time spent on all dragons being in danger, and Toothless as an alpha unable to protect them with Hairy Hooligans. The story doesn’t show Toothless being much of an alpha - intentional - until he reaches the Hidden World and it clicks. But I suggest it’d be more effective to pull this out more than having an issue with Moose Boi taking up too much space in Berk, and Berk being so crowded Gobber has a dragon in his soup.

Put more of a deal on Toothless being an alpha. You can say that Toothless didn’t understand or use his role as alpha when with humans, but I think showing more sense of conflict, and of an alpha needing to be wild to protect his own, would be useful. Make this an issue for all dragons. The alpha status being used as a blackmail device against Toothless to keep the Light Fury alive could be replaced with us seeing the full species of dragonkind being unable to be protected by an alpha apart from his own people. More needs to be done than dragons bowing to him in one scene to understand what the alpha does for his society.

Show Toothless with more Light Furies. The Light Fury being his singular focus is great. But what about, in the Hidden World, Hiccup and Astrid watch Toothless interacting with a whole group of Night Furies, and he’s clearly in a situation that was Made For Him?

THW already has great content in there - Toothless and the Light Fury interacting, Hiccup crying when he realizes Toothless is fit in the Hidden World, Hiccup freaking out and Astrid comforting him when he feels a low, and Hiccup and Toothless parting ways touchingly at the end.

With these proposed tweaks, we get Toothless and Hiccup’s relationship being addressed deeply from the angle of both friends. We understand what both Toothless and Hiccup emotionally feel, and palatably sense how both love the other. We get a sense that Toothless is attracted to the Light Fury and might want to mate, but that she’s also calling him into a wild life and reminding him that he’s been alone, separated from his kind. We get a sense that it’s not just Toothless, but all dragons who might be called back to the Hidden World. We get a sense that it’s not just Toothless, but his whole role as alpha affecting the entirety of dragonkind.

And once we add in a greater sense of Grimmel being dangerous, and that more humans like him will continue to rise up, we can understand why Berk would release all their dragons. It’s not that dragons hate living with humans - THW can make that clear - and it’s not that dragons haven’t been profited by living with humans. But in the current call, the current situation, it’s best to go to the Hidden World.

I’m mostly tweaking how scenes go down, changing lines and reactions rather than adding material. Feel free to propose a longer movie! For me, THW already has enough space to share its message. Maybe it needed to be a few minutes longer, but I suppose my own sense is that they had enough time to budget in this material, make a smooth-flowing movie with all the material they needed to present, and come away with an astounding storyline.

Like you, this isn’t meant to judge the movie as bad! It isn’t bad! It’s downright wonderful in many aspects. I’m so happy I’ve seen it and can scream over it! Simply, if I were in charge of tweaking the script, these are the first alterations I’d make, and I think it would make THW even better.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

@lanvinlouis THANK YOU for these beautiful truthful asks and the chance to talk more about how Jeremy Is Valid

honestly i'm h e e r e .......................................................for jeremy...like from the opening number it makes it obvious that what jeremy's after isn't really anything like popularity or coolness in and of itself, he just wants like, the chance to be okay lol....really he's like, actively suffering, and he wants whatever it is he needs to change that. it isn't that he's like, inherently jealous of popularity or coolness or whatever and he's just interested in status for the sake of his own ego, it's that he feels like whenever he's just existing and trying to get from point A to point B, he's drawing this antagonism and contempt and he can't manage to change his situation on his own. and like it's not just that school is fucked up for him b/c he's already like "everything sucks" before he's even left his bedroom at the start of the day like. he's unhappy with his whole life, and now he's basically at this point where he doesn't feel like that's going to change either thanks to or independently of his own efforts, and like, that's bad....just like, in general, when somebody feels like their life NEEDS to change but that there's no chance it will, they're pretty much having an ongoing crisis for as long as that lasts. and like yeah jeremy's dealing with all these issues and is like, taking it day by day trying to go through it like it's a routine, but not only is the "things will change eventually" in doubt for him but like also his ability to actually just tolerate it indefinitely is also in doubt, even though he's been dealing with it for a long time, the problems have probably gotten worse and more numerous and then yknow meanwhile he's probably feeling less hope about things than he might've back in say middle school and such

like, he's desperate enough to actually consider the super weird advice of the guy who bullies him i guess every day. cuz like he sings right off the bat that he wants someone to help him after his own efforts fail yet again and rich is telling him about the squip right after his lowered expectations have fallen even further and, yknow, jeremy definitely is feeling like things can't change even if he tries and that he does need some external source of help and as far as he can tell, the possibility of getting a working squip is the one chance he has...and like even though it's mentioned fairly briefly i think it's efficiently established that his parents' fairly recent divorce is really pushing him to feel even worse / more desperate for something to change things up cuz like, his mom's left and his dad's not literally absent but like, is more absent. and then also jeremy's seeing his dad as being in a similar place as he is and seeing that as evidence that yeah, things might not ever change. and jeremy wants to (tell himself he can) just move on and skip being upset and just accept it as is and his dad's not facilitating that facade and jeremy resents that a bit too

anyways yeah michael!! i know ppl have already talked abt him maybe not being very empathetic and it sure does seem to fit just fine w the material and the sorts of patterns of him engaging w jeremy.........like it definitely seems as though probably the situation he and jeremy are in is that like, they're both p much settled in to the routine of high school and the approach is to just get through the day and then they can retreat to either of their houses and hang out and have things be fine there. and i think the way michael sees it is that since he's the one who's not really stressing out about things being miserable and he's got the perspective that it's all okay since they appreciate each other and college will be way better, that means jeremy would be able to feel the same way about things if he just listened to michael and adopted that same perspective. whereas jeremy's feeling like those things aren't enough to make him feel okay, and when he complains and michael has the advice to just pretty much forget about it, that's just gonna seem like michael's not offering him anything that could actually help, because their friendship alone can't make up for everything else, and he can't tolerate two more years and knowing that things might be better then don't change what he's dealing with currently. like, i think the both of them just feel like the other just isn't listening to him lol....but like i do also think that michael sort of suspects that jeremy's really not doing so great and that his own advice is inadequate, because he does seem to understand pretty easily how/why jeremy wants to actually try to get a squip.

oh yeah and that even michael's light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel Guys Like Us Are Cool In College thing is of limited comfort because it's really just more of the same. like, that they'll still just be at the mercy of this social judgment, but when they get to college it'll happen to be in their favor. and that comes up when they fight and jeremy points this out how michael Loves To Feel Superior based on his own set of coolness standards. and, you know, speaking of what they Say with regard to how some of michael's shortcomings / weaknesses played into the squiptuation, even in mitb the lyric "but through no fault of mine" suggests more that this is defensive and he maybe does suspect that he factored into it a little bit, versus the lyric just being there to be interpreted as an objective peer-reviewed Fact in the middle of this purely emotional one-person-perspective song. it's not as though it's michael's fault or that it's a bad thing that he didn't know how to help jeremy perfectly or that because he might've been selfish in some ways he deserves to lose jeremy entirely. and tbh the stuff michael said even played into jeremy's decision to block him out / leave him behind, because of how michael's take on the problem of them being Uncool was that all they could do was embrace being losers and wait it out. so when jeremy was trying to change things, michael was set up to not only be a symbol of how things used to be, but based on the things michael always told jeremy, he's also seeing michael as a symbol of things being unable to change. and he does still care about him and all and like, doesn't even want to cut him out, but he's so convinced that his own judgment and feelings are useless that he's ignoring the fact he doesn't want to. and when he fights with michael at the party, jeremy's defensive b/c his misgivings abt his squip are kind of only making him more desperate to believe it's still okay, and also he's just in a bad place for anything much less to have an argument, and michael's kind of adding in this bitterness just about being left behind that isn't helping his other points come through as mere genuine concern. like, of course he's right to be hurt, but jeremy's also right to feel hurt by michael even if michael wasn't making the choices that led to the situation. they're mad at each other and they end up fighting once again in the play Because of the fact that they love each other and they want more than to be disappointed by the other.

and ugh yeah loser geek whatever............just kill me, every time i listen to it it's such a fuckin journey through the emotions of it all and. yknow it's like they say, it's sort of a Victorious Powerful Anthem because jeremy's definitively choosing to take action to change his life, even if he's feeling swept up in that change. but he's also only able to make that choice because he really thinks so little of himself that he's taking the self-contradictory stance of "i have to entirely stop caring about how i feel if i want to achieve my goal of Feeling Good About My Life" and deciding that yeah, his own thoughts and judgment are worthless, and he's choosing to totally accept the guidance of this entity that tells him that his life sucks because everyone sees him as disgusting and awful and they're right to feel that way about him. like he's finding it that easy to accept that he just objectively sucks and that even something so inherent as his sense of what's painful or bad is just wrong, because that's how deep his flaws run. and like yeah again he acknowledges that he's being selfish right there in the lyrics, but that's not exactly meant to be like, he's acknowledging that he's also being Evil And Wrong, because technically wanting himself to be happy is selfish, and that's not bad. he just thinks that the squip is the only way he can maybe be happy, and the only way for the squip to work is if he listens to it, and he can only listen to it if he accepts that it's right about everything including how he's horrible and he can never do things right on his own etc etc etc etc. like, he obviously didn't really expect the squip to be like "you're too gross to live" but it was really not that difficult for the squip to convince him that it was right. he hates himself a lot lol.....

also just, as something generally applicable, it's also no wonder that jeremy's often frustrated with everything and that it bleeds into stuff he says and does and the choices he makes being possibly not the most thought-through or Objective, and how can lose his patience sometimes. like he's out here with his flaws and weaknesses just like anybody else, and it's miscommunication too that's leading to Conflicts / making him feel alone

anyways sorry it took me a few days to answer that and frankly this Could be longer.......neither has anything to do with how much i like getting long messages and answering with long messages and supporting and discussing jeremy heere, b/c i like all of that A Lot, @ me about it at absolutely any time and at any length