#and then it goes on to say several other INCREDIBLY CONCERNING THINGS LMAO

[hella1975]

i got an app that tracks mood swings so i can finally figure out if mine are really that stupid crazy or if im just being dramatic like i suspect. everyone clap she is taking baby steps!

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Repost: Ask on a 'Honeymoon Period' with BTS

Anonymous: Hi BPP, I saw a conversation that made me curious to ask you a similar thing: did you ever think BTS was perfect or did you ever have a honeymoon phase with the group? You're a bit of an older fan so I wonder if you went through a period where you became disillusioned. Some things I'm reading about HYBE like how they bully women and that BTS are involved are concerning to me. I read about the scandals for Lucas and saw some of his fans saying BTS members are worse than Lucas and that they always mess around with women and have bad relationships with them. When I asked for proof they say I'm naïve. I know BTS isn't perfect but it just bothers me how fans of other groups use them to deflect from their own scandals? More than anything that's what prompted my own disillusionment with BTS and kpop. The whole industry is so incredibly toxic it's hard to enjoy anything here now. Even BTS. Why is there always so much drama? Isn't the point to focus on the music?

**

Hi Anon,

I think like everything else, it depends on your initial expectations. Many of BTS’s latest fans (fans who joined in the Dynamite/Butter era) are k-pop noobs. Basically, these are people whose first real exposure to k-pop was BTS. They see the high quality production videos, their cool performances, etc, and expect perfection. After all, these guys are called “idols”. Then they get into k-pop, see things they don’t like, then may or may not begin listening to other k-pop groups, get caught up in all the nonsensical narratives, and then begin ‘discourse’ of their own. But lol, because it’s k-pop, they’re hooked and can’t really let go, so they stick around not really for the music, but for the personalities and concepts which they’ll check in to give their commentary on with every new comeback. This is literally how it always goes lmao.

I’ve seen it happen with new fans of a few other k-pop groups. This particular cycle for BTS I first noticed when Blood, Sweat &Tears blew up but that was mostly with Latam fans, not even Americans. I saw it happen with Western fans for DNA era, saw it happen with Boy With Luv, now it’s happening with Dynamite.

I’ve been in the k-pop community since 2009, and didn’t become a fan of BTS till 2018. I’d seen all manner of scandals or bad behavior from both fans and idols, even before BTS debuted. My initial expectations of BTS were definitely not perfection and I’ve never been under the illusion BTS are perfect people. As I noted here where I described how I became a fan of BTS, I was watching from the sidelines for years, saw firsthand their most 'problematic’ years which was naturally around the time of their debut and all the missteps that comes with that. But I also saw what was happening in the rest of k-pop which in my opinion was so much worse.

When you have no idea what k-pop is like and are ignorant of its history, it’s easy to think you’ve noticed or discovered something new but every single thing related to BTS and k-pop happens within context that is lost on you if you’re focused solely on BTS. When Jimin and Jungkook’s scandals blew up in the Fall of 2019 (Jimin for playing finger games with women in a pub, and Jungkook for backhugging a woman), some new fans (Boy with Luv era) were 'disappointed’ that jikook were 'mistreating’ women. This was the dominant narrative by k-pop stans which makes no sense at all but you need to remember what else happened in 2019. In the Spring of 2019 we had the Burning Sun scandal that brought down the big kahunas in the k-pop industry including several prominent figures from the Big 3 as well as politicians and other celebrities. And not just for petty crimes, but really fucked up diabolical shit like prostitution and sex trafficking, statutory rape, filming women in vulnerable positions without their consent, prevalent drug use, etc. When BigBang was not just implicated but shown to have one of the members be a director for that club, all hell broke loose. It was like a frenzy. People were looking for any connections BTS members would have to it. Nothing came up. So, by the time those innocuous clips and pics of Jikook dropped in the Fall of that year, it felt like long-awaited confirmation for some that BTS were 'just as bad’. None of this surprised me lol. So anon, people saying Lucas is just like BTS members or vice versa is a very typical thing for a k-pop stan to say. I keep referring to how competitive k-pop is because that competition informs almost every aspect of fan behavior, and the more you look outside of BTS and ARMY, the more you’ll see it.

This isn’t to say BTS members are innocent or saints. We know they’re not cause nobody is, but it’s just as silly to ignore the environment these idols are in where flimsy things are primed to be blown up beyond reason depending on who the target is. K-pop is such that if there’s a scandal, it will eventually come out before long. There’s more money to be made in a scandal revealed than it getting it covered up and that is literally how it works. People say how BigHit is paying off Dispatch but BH is not the only agency with contracts with Dispatch, obviously, and yet. I watched from the sidelines for years as k-pop stans tried to make scandals for these guys while actual misconduct was happening in the open with their own idols that was being tried in courts and in formal arenas, not on Reddit. It’s just what it is.

I’ve lost count of the new fans raging at HYBE for this or that based on rumor or speculation completely unaware that SM or YG are actually under formal investigation for worse. You see new fans who take one look at HYBE’s financial statements to reach this or that conclusion, but have zero idea what the financial statements of other agencies look like which if seen, will completely undercut their conclusions.

It’s important to note all this also informs fandom behavior.

Most people fawning over BTS using hyperbolic language “he’s so hot I want to kill myself”, and the latest I saw from JK’s solo stans “young genius polymath” sometimes believe their own hype. But for a lot of people it’s because they’ve seen the same irrational language used for their idols but of the opposite sentiment. That is why there is so much drama - it’s a rally of hyperbolic statements and beliefs from opposite sides.

K-pop communities can be a very noisy and toxic place to be because, as you allude to anon, I promise you most people here are definitely not here for the music. Maybe that’s what ropes them in at first, but they stay for concepts, 'discourse’, and fanfics (not knocking on anyone that’s just the reality I’ve observed). And it’s immediately clear who isn’t, based on what they fixate on. 90% of what counts for discourse here is blather, quite frankly. And it doesn’t even matter because everyone will tune in again the minute BTS releases their new album. They’ll come here to write about this or that concept, music video or performance, they’ll remain plugged in, because this is k-pop and they’re hooked. Just look at all the k-pop stans once again waiting for a comeback from BigBang lmao.

This all might not be for you. In my case, I’m able to tune out the bullshit and I’ve made some really cool and meaningful friendships with like-minded people who more than anything, appreciate the musical output of the genre. I hope you're able to find your own crowd soon too.

Originally posted: March 25th, 2022 11:52am

[babyjakes]

i'll always come find you.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | chris helps you through a flashback during sex.

pairing | boyfriend!chris evans x reader

warnings | happens mid-sex (some but not much detail given, mostly about ceasing said activities), chris saying something to trigger a ptsd episode/trauma response/flashback (but out of caution i’ve decided to make this a blank to avoid actually triggering anyone! hope this makes sense <3), soft<3chris, so so soft, sweet, safe <3, bonus: the safeword being ‘dodger’ lmao

word count | 1,712

requested by anon | Idk if you’ll want to write this but I figured I would ask because I trust you with it, but would you write something with seb or Chris where the reader has some kind of flash back or trauma response while they’re going at it. Idk it’s happened to me a couple of times and I’m really insecure about it 🥺🥺🥺

an | hi sweet friend of course <3 going with chris, he would for sure be so supportive and comforting if this happened! thanks for being vulnerable and sending in this request, your thoughts and suggestions are always always always safe with me. love you lots <3

Chris has known about your trauma disorder since well before the two of you started having sex, and he’s always been incredibly mindful about it. He was sure to get himself educated about trauma responses and helping a loved one through them as soon as he knew something had happened to you.

When the two of you finally decided to become sexually active together, Chris made it very clear from the beginning that everything would be entirely up to you, and that if anything ever felt bad or became too much, all you’d have to do is say so and he’d stop immediately.

Up until this point, sex has run smoothly. You’ve both been able to enjoy and indulge in each other while keeping a steady foundation of safety and care at the root of your relations.

Today, things started out good, just like always. You’ve given Chris several yes’s, and he’s checked to make sure you know the safe word (like he does every time) in case anything needs to pause. It feels good, warm, and loving. But then, a few words change everything…

As soon as they've left his mouth, your heart slams to a stop as your face goes numb, your vision softening as tears fill your eyes.

Terrifying feelings rise up through your body, hot pain searing in places you can only remember from your nightmares. A scream catches in your throat as warm tears begin trailing down your cheeks. Echoes of dangerous voices and violent sounds ring through your ears, your heart now throbbing heavily everywhere it shouldn’t.

The moment you fall into your flashback, Chris sees it. He freezes, though still inside of you, not wanting to cause you any unwanted sensations or otherwise make matters worse.

“Y/n?” he calls softly, holding himself up over you as he looks at you with concern. You twist slightly underneath him, his face blurry through your tear-filled eyes. Your mind has scrambled out of sheer panic, and as you look at Chris, trying to focus on his features, you honestly can’t tell if he’s real or if you’re being assaulted again. Or, if even both might be true.

“Y/n,” Chris says again, the gentleness of his voice not enough to convince you of your safety. “Hey, sweet girl. You okay?”

Sputtering on your tears, you let out a muffled sob, causing Chris to fuss at you softly. “Hey, bubba, hey. You’re okay, honey. D’you remember our word?” he asks, partly to check and partly just in attempts to ground you.

You whimper at his question, simply out of fear that you don’t have the answer he’s looking for, but he just reassures you, “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay if you can’t remember; it’s ‘Dodger,’ right?” he coaxes.

The word vaguely rings a bell, so you nod weakly, your body shaking terribly under his. Understanding that you’re too disoriented to safeword yourself, he continues, “Okay, lovebug. I think I’m gonna ‘Dodger’ for the both of us; is that okay? You look pretty shaken up.”

You just nod, hoping he won’t grow angry with you for not being able to form words. “Okay, sweet girl. Is it okay if I pull out of you? I promise I’ll be gentle,” he tells you.

Your tears worsen at his question as you begin to shake your head frantically, causing him to wait, cooing, “Hey, hey sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing’s gonna happen ‘til you’re ready, honey; I can wait ‘til you’re ready.” Acutely aware of the presence of something inside you, you let out a frightened whimper.

“H-hurts,” you plead, unable to separate the pain from your memories from your current experience. Though your mind could potentially be convinced of your safety, your nervous-system is another matter completely; ultimately, it’s as if you’ve been brutalized all over again. “Hurts, please. W-wait, don’t.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Chris frowns, catching on that your body is remembering your trauma just as strongly as your mind is. “Let’s get you fixed up, okay, bubba? Gonna make it all better,” he murmurs. One of the things he’s found to be helpful in other instances of your flashbacks has been offering help, and he’s hoping that this time might be no different.

“Please, please, it hurts,” you whimper, the shakiness of your voice as you continue to cry breaking Chris’s heart.

“I know, sweetheart; here, is it okay if I pull out of you? I’ll go real slow, baby, and then I can get us cleaned up and back in our clothes.” You wince again at the suggestion, the pleading look not leaving your face as Chris waits patiently for you to give him permission.

“‘s gonna hurt,” you say fearfully, the quiet, defeated tone of your voice giving away how helpless you feel. “Please, ‘s gonna hurt s-so bad. P-please wait, please don’t.”

“No, no, no, sweetheart. It won’t hurt; we’ll go nice and slow,” Chris tries, but his attempts at convincing you prove to be futile as you continue to look up at him, your eyes wide with fear. “Here, honey. How about you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and it’ll be over before you know it,” he offers.

You choke down a frightened refusal, more tears spilling over as you decide to oblige, squeezing your eyes shut. “Okay, doll. Big, deep breath,” he instructs, and as he sees you inhaling as best you can through your nose, he gently eases himself out, resting back on his knees as you whimper softly.

“Good job, y/n. You did so well; we’re all done, sweetheart,” Chris tells you softly as you keep your eyes shut and your breath held, almost as if you’re anticipating more discomfort to follow. Jumping slightly at his words, you open your eyes, relieved to see him detached from you.

He sends you a gentle smile, murmuring, “Okay, pretty girl. I’m gonna go get cleaned up, and I’ll bring back some wipes and clothes for you. Is that okay?” he asks, prompting you to nod silently.

Chris disappears into the connected bathroom, reappearing a few minutes later, still naked. In his hands, he carries a box of wipes, setting them down on the edge of the bed before walking over to the dresser. He throws on a t-shirt and some sweatpants, pulling you out a fresh set of clothes before returning to the bedside.

You tense up as he approaches, causing him to immediately soften his posture as he bends down, taking a seat on the mattress beside you. Lying naked on your back as he sits over you, you still feel incredibly vulnerable, though the intensity of your episode has begun to wind down.

Knowing any wrong move could throw you back into a spiral of panic, Chris remains careful as he begins to speak softly to you again. “Okay, sweetheart. Is it okay if I help you get cleaned up?”

Your bottom lip trembles as he picks up the package of wipes, pulling one out and pausing to let you respond. When you don’t, he goes on to reassure you further, murmuring, “I promise I’ll be real careful, honey. Nothing’s gonna hurt, it’s just a wipe. See?”

Eyeing the object carefully, you swallow down a sob, mumbling, “’s gonna sting. P-please, please don’t. W-wait, please…”

“Won’t sting,” he says patiently, adding, “They’re baby wipes, remember? They’re made to be real gentle, made for little guys.”

“Little guys,” you repeat weakly, shaking as you decide to grant him permission with a nod. Smiling softly at you, he reaches over, beginning to wipe you softly with the damp cloth.

More tears spill over as a frightened whimper sounds in your throat, causing him to whisper, “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart. Just soft, just gentle. See? No stinging,” he sings.

“N-no stinging,” you repeat back, gaining a mild amount of comfort from the fact that his words are true. Once he’s finished, he sets the wipes over on the nightstand, grabbing your clothes and setting them down beside you.

“Okay, honey. Let’s get you back in some clothes,” he coos, starting out with a pair of panties. Pulling them gently over your feet, he helps you begin to cover up, moving on to the shirt next, then the leggings. The process extracts a few flinches and whimpers from you, but he’s patient, continuing to murmur reassuring words to you as you slowly get the job done together.

“There you go,” he hums once you’re all covered again. “That better, sweetheart?” You nod, longing aching in your chest as Chris sits beside you. Now that you’re clean and clothed again, and the trauma feelings have had a good chance to settle, all you want is to be held.

As soon as Chris sees the look in your eyes, he knows it. “Com’ere, bubba,” he invites, scooping you up in his arms as he rests you on his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back soothingly.

More tears prickle at your eyes as he holds you lovingly, feelings of shame and guilt washing over you before Chris can say anything to prevent them. “’m sorry,” you mumble. “Forgot the safe word, a-and- and couldn’t t-talk, and- and-”

“Hey, hey,” Chris cuts you off, brushing your hair back from your face as you look up at him warily. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry for. You just got a little lost, but that’s okay; I came and found you, right? Now you’re back, safe with me.”

“Back,” you agree, exhaustion from the whole ordeal beginning to envelop you as your breathing slows to a steady pace.

“I’ll always come find you, doll,” he promises, and you know his words are true. After his careful handling of such a sensitive situation, there isn’t a doubt in your mind at this point that Chris is just as safe as he’s been trying to prove himself to be.

Pressing your face into his chest, his familiar scent rises up through your body, a fresh sense of calm sweeping over you as he begins to hum one of your favorite songs. Leaning into the soft material of his shirt, you allow yourself to rest, knowing Chris is right there to protect you.

[notnctu]

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you���re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

READ NEXT PART

[foryoumyheroes]

Otaku

[Bakugou + Todoroki] are in love with the anime character [Name]. 

A/N:  Gender-neutral reader  Crackish?? 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

He’s sort of picky with the genre, be it fantasy, horror, shonen, but his favorite character has to be a super cool, super powerful one. No excuses. 

You know, the type of anime character that’s probably introduced through a silhouette of them posing dramatically with their notorious group whose image is teased throughout the first few episodes/seasons. 

He goes pretty hard for All Might, and he’s definitely the same for your character. 

Reads the manga (but he buys it super secretly, like in a hoodie at night and the cashier probably thinks that they’re being robbed until he brings the entire [Series] collection to the register). Watches the anime the moment it’s broadcasted, reads metas and watches youtube videos that talk about conspiracies/analyses of your character. 

NO ONE CAN KNOW THOUGH. 

He’s taking his anime phase to the grave. 

For some reason gets super aggressive when you’re being flirty or being shipped with another character?? He hates all the scenes that tease any potential romance between you and other characters. asdfgj He’s like, “No one is good enough for [Name]!!! Except for me.” 

He even tries to think up ways he can legitimately square up with them LMAO. Like he wonders how he could defeat your potential S/Os in a fight but y’all are like ,,, anime characters SO WHY DOES IT EVEN MATTER LOL 

“Three-sword style?? Tch, I’d fucking blow that bastard to bits.” 

“Who’s this Gaara of the Sand looking ass and why is the author getting so bold.” 

He even tries to think of how well your abilities match up with his own Quirk, this dork. 

THE LENGTHS HE WOULD GO FOR YOU.

If you were a real life person and your dislikes are lets say spicy food or loud, overbearing people, Bakugou would be like, “Tch I’m right, they’re wrong. Shut the fuck up!!!” But if his ultimate wifu/husbando has those dislikes he would be like, “Omg...😳😳 opposites attract...👉👈” 

He honestly tries to be a low-key fan (as in, not be a fan at all to outsiders), but if one day during class Kaminari ends up saying that in [Series], you’re the weakest character in your group/squad, Bakugou would get super angry. 

“Hey, Dunceface!! It’s so fucking obvious that you’re an anime-only fake fan, so don’t talk as if you know shit!” 

Bakugou is those “um actually” ;; fans 

Bakugou is a manga reader, so by the time your introduction scene or Ultimate Attack scene is being aired he becomes super OOC. He’s hyped for it for days, incredibly nervous at how the animators handle the scene. 

By the time he watches it?? 

THE ANIMATION!! THE VOICE ACTING!! YOUR COOLNESS!!! PLS ORA ORA HIM IN THE CHEST!! HE’S BEGGING YOU! IF YOU’RE GOING TO UNISON RAID WITH ANYONE PLS LET IT BE HIM!! 

He’s legitimately sweating buckets by the time the episode is over. A whole-ass fire hazard. 

Probably knows how to play your character theme on the drums. 

Omg but if your character dies/is hinted toward dying/or the most recent chapters ends with a cliffhanger where you’re fatally injured he will become legitimately depressed. 

Like holes himself in his dorm room for a whole day without contacting anyone and with the blinds drawn type of depressed. 

When he comes to class the next day with eye-bags and is slouching and his classmates think that something horrible has happened, it’s probably only Izuku who knows what’s going on. 

He’ll say, “You’re upset about the most recent chapter of [Series], right? I know it must be hard for you right now.” He’ll give Bakugou an officially licensed rubber strap of your character and Bakugou will just ;; cradle it in his hands softly. 

In complete seriousness, your character is probably someone who is strong physically, but publicly rallies for things like, “Failure is fine.” Your character arc would probably explore what it’s like being not good enough or feeling constantly disappointed, so he feels comfort in your character. 

Todoroki Shoto: 

In comparison to Bakugou, he’s probably a more low-key fan unintentionally, but goes just as hard. 

Buys all of the merch, limited-edition or not, has your picture set as his phone lockscreen and homescreen, has a little acrylic charm of you on his phone, follows several fanartists that draw your character on social media. He buys enough merch that his room looks like a glorified shrine. 

It’s canon that he reads manga, but I headcanon that he’s even less picky with his genres and willingly reads things like slice-of-life or shojo all the way to shonen or adult fantasy, so your anime could come from any possible story. 

Your character is probably someone who is sweet and kind but has a traumatic character backstory. 

He probably ends up thinking stuff like, “If [Name] was with me, I would never let them get treated like that.” asdhj he’s a dork too. 

Unironically dramatically quotes you during battle and thinks that it’s still badass because he’s a teenage boy in his anime phase. 

Doesn’t get into debates with people who don’t like your character. He’s like, “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion :)) even though they’re wrong. >:(.” 

If you’re from a sports/competition anime he’ll try to learn all of the rules, and even try it out for himself (if it’s not fighting) but he finds out that he’s... not very good at it. That doesn’t make him any less amazed though! 

If your character is from a different culture with different customs and traditions, he’ll even learn more about them outside of your anime! 

Forces his siblings to watch the anime with him. They don’t necessarily have to, but the Todoroki household has one big TV and he hogs it all the time watching your anime over and over. 

Natsuo is begging him to watch something else and Shoto will just pout angrily from the other side of the couch.( ￣＾￣)

It’s so jarring because he doesn't look or appear like a hardcore anime fan, but sometimes he’ll just butt into conversations randomly and talk about you. 

Like you know those tumblr Naruto posts that talk about it as if it’s some sort of Renaissance literature. That’s Todoroki. 

[”Man, they’re so hot--!” 

“You want to see someone hot?” Todoroki asks with a perfectly straight face, and he’ll just... turn his phone around and show them a picture of an anime character.] 

When his dad tries to set him up with someone else: “You think they’re my type? Do they watch [Series]? Do they know what true friendship is?? Do they understand pining and love the way [Name] does?” 

Endeavor: who the FUCK is [Name]. 

Gets into fanfiction because of your character and series. He’ll just be reading on his phone during break times at school and everyone thinks that he’s being so well-read but he’s just reading pure smut with a straight face. 

Doesn’t mind when you’re shipped with other characters necessarily but he is super picky. If your character is hinted toward a potential romance with another character that’s pretty crass and doesn’t necessarily treat you well but you’re sticking together through the power of friendship, he won’t ship it. 

He’s just like “[Name] would be so much happier with someone else like me.” ://// 

And if your character goes through something traumatic or terrible during the series he’ll be so sad, like soooo sad. :((( Deku would probably be comforting him on the couch in the common room and everyone is concerned because he looks like he’s mourning a lost pet, but it turns out to be over some anime character pshhhsdfh. 

Deku would just be patting his shoulder trying to console him and Todoroki’s just sitting there with a big frown on his face going, [“But they’ve been through so much throughout the anime already...” 

“I know, Todoroki-kun, I know...” 

“The author can’t do that to them... It’s just not fair.”

“I get it,” Midoriya says mournfully.]  

Plot twist: They like the same anime character 

They’ll probably find out when they have to retake the license exam together. 

Todoroki will just take his phone out during off times and Bakugou’s eyes looks over because it’s drawn by the noise but then his head just snaps to the side when he realizes its a little charm of you, like, he’s going to get whiplash from that. 

“What the -- is that [Surname] [Name]?!” 

Like they have never really hung out together before this, so when they both first realize that their favorite character of all time is [Name] they’re left ,, just standing there ,,, pointing at each other like the spiderman meme.

At first they’re both inwardly excited because FINALLY someone cultured and with taste. They spend the entire time talking about your stats, your attacks, your post-timeskip character design, and your personality, and then they delve a little bit deeper and then they realize ,,, oh. 

Bakugou says that you don’t belong with the dumb protagonist, you should be shipped with someone strong, confident and loud, but Todoroki is like noooooo they deserve to be with someone that treats them gently. 

They connect the dots. 

[“Bakugou, you aren’t compatible with [Name]. It says so in their trivia page.” 

“Says you! They won’t want some bland-ass pretty boy! They would want a real man!”] 

They’re such fanboys ;;; they do realize that you aren’t real, right asdfghj?

One day Kaminari and Sero separately invite them to an anime convention, but they both say no and that they have plans or “something better to do” that day. 

Then Bakugou and Todoroki both turn up to the convention at the same place because they both reach for the last limited edition [Name] figure and they just stare at each other wide-eyed (ʘoʘ╬) like that. 

They start verbally fighting each other over the last figure and then physically fighting each other andddd then they get kicked out of the convention. 

Izuku ends up swooping in and getting the last box. 

[interact-if]

Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Upcoming Thronebreaker Fics + Gascon Backstory

Okay, for today’s WiP Wednesday, I wanna share a few fics I have planned for Thronebreaker! Don’t worry, I will definitely continue writing Iorveth/Roche (and also Isengrim/Eldain, though most of those haven’t been published yet. But I have a doc with 8 WiPs for them).

But now that I’ve properly met the Thronebreaker OT3, I am suuuuuuper here for them. I’m still kind of figuring out their dynamic, but to be honest, 90% of my fics will probably take place in the months they travel from Lyria’s capital to Aedirn, ‘cause that journey would take a long time! Even just to the border would be a long walk (and armies move SLOW), but then Vengerberg is fairly central and I assume Black Rayla comes in somewhere near the Moulderwoods, since that’s Eldain’s territory. So like... it would take MONTHS of slowly traveling down the road - and also probably avoiding patrols and maybe even towns, because they’re outlaws now. And considering most towns are BUILT on major roads...

Point is, there’s plenty of time for them to get to know each other while traveling to Aedirn. And I hear that Thronebreaker gets pretty sad and depressing (I don’t know the details, but I also don’t mind spoilers. I know some big ones already, but I’m sure there’s more) so tbh, not sure if I’ll ever finish the game. Which makes the period of Meve, Reynard, and their handful of deserters traveling with Gascon and his Strays of Spalla perfect for fic settings lol.

So far, I have 3 specific fics planned and a few other ideas percolating. The first one is the Taint of the Common Man, which I went into pretty in detail here, so I won’t repeat that (but be warned, link goes to very noncon/dubcon set up stuff).

The second fic is Gascon-focused angst! Well, really ot3 angst, but I’ve only written Gascon’s POV so far, though next is Reynard’s POV and then Meve’s. The premise is that they’re on the road to Aedirn and they’ve been sleeping together the three of them for several months - but Gascon gets a reminder of exactly what he is to them when they mention their 10th anniversary. And he tries to act normal and cheerful and brash, but his heart is breaking because he stupidly fell in love with a queen and her top general and what is he? Nothing.

So he starts to subtly pull away from them, trying to protect his heart. But Reynard notices and worries over it and brings it up with Meve - who is all “nah, he’s fine”, and then watches Gascon and has to rescind her words, because he is absolutely not fine. And Gascon is spending more and more time with his strays (and his right hand gal in particular, which they’re totally not jealous over or anything), so it has to be them that are the problem. Which means they have to talk. 

I’m still thinking about non-sexual ways Meve and Reynard can show Gascon that he’s loved, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to throw them my way! But it’s definitely gonna have a happy ending with them working to show Gascon that he does belong with them.

The third fic is actually about Gascon becoming the Duke of Dogs XD If there’s a canon explanation, then too bad, because I like mine lol. Anyway, remember that right hand gal I mentioned? Well, her name is Medusa and she has purple hair that she braids and styles meticulously to look like snakes around her head. She also happens to be the best cat burglar in Aedirn - but she wasn’t always. So this fic is set way in the past, to when they first meet, because she’s the one that introduces him to the Strays of Spalla and vouches for him at first. Obviously later they both rise through the ranks and once Gascon takes over leadership, he works to make them more of a family (a family of crime lol).

Anyway, before any of that, we have Gascon as an 8yo who just saw his entire family murdered by the king’s guards for the crime of speaking out against the way nobles treat their people and their land. (idk if a reason is given in canon, but that’s my reason because it connects to some of the changes Gascon makes to the Strays. Basically, while they’re still a gang of criminals, I’ve decided to take inspiration from the incredible Black Panthers (who, to be clear, were NOT criminal, but were extensively treated like it by the FBI because they took care of and protected their community (you know, the ones the FBI was actively spying on and introducing highly addictive drugs to). I think I’ve lost the thread a bit and there are a lot of parentheses, so I’ll just conclude this bit by saying that my version of the Strays of Spalla steal from wealthy merchants and even wealthier nobles and use their ill-gotten gains to help the peasants (esp around Spalla, but across Lyria too). Which matters because I think Reynard semi understands that poor people are people (he talks to Meve about being proud to fight alongside the Strays because they’re fighting for freedom and what better cause is there?), but he’s still a nobleman who has spent the majority of his life at the king’s side. And Meve is queen. She has no fucking idea what the actual people of Lyria’s lives are like, because she’s always been concerned with managing her realm - which means managing nobles, who then are responsible for tending to their land aka getting taxes and shit from the peasants. So basically, both of them have a LOT of blindspots about what real actual people’s lives are like in their ‘great realm’. But Gascon? Gascon has lived that life.)

Right, so, the plot. The plot is actually not at all about how Gascon changes the Strays (oops), but about how he first joins them. So, 8yo Gascon. He just saw his family murdered, he was only saved because he was hidden in a closet, stuffing his own fist in his mouth to keep the guards from hearing him cry. But he Knows that they’ll kill him if they find out he survived, so he goes through the house and grabs what he can (what the guards didn’t loot) and tries not to throw up and cry too much. Then he runs.

But lil Gascon Brossard is a nobleman’s son and that’s the only life he’s known until now. And it’s obvious from his fine clothes that he has money - which means he ends up getting beaten and robbed on the streets a lot. Eventually, he learns to not share his name (’cause WOW that’s such a nobleman’s name lmao), but like... he’s 8. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just trying to survive. (Also, for extra angst, I’m thinking he got his mom’s signet ring from the house before he left, but it got stolen. But when he’s older, he steals it back.)

I’m not sure why he decides to rob the house of a minor noble in the Spalla area, but he does. And he actually plans it pretty carefully - he creates a cigarette bomb for a time-delayed (minor) explosion that busts open the door to the kennel and scares all the dogs, so they go howling and barking and running and create chaos. (A noble’s household would likely have a lot of dogs, most of them working ones.) His plan is to break into the kitchen while everyone is otherwise occupied and steal enough to eat for a good while. 

But before he can do this, while he’s hiding in the bushes and waiting for his bomb to go off, someone else finds him. Specifically, Medusa finds him - because she was casing the place to steal stuff (probably jewels. She really likes shiny things). So she pulls a knife on him and demands to know who he is. And idk if the Brossards owned a duchy or if he was just being cheeky, but he’s all, “I’m a duke!”

“Yeah?” Medusa laughs. “Duke of what?”

At that moment, the bomb goes off with a little pop and then utter chaos descends as dogs start howling and baying and barking. And Gascon just grins his gap-toothed grin (he probably lost some teeth getting beaten tbh) and proclaims, “of dogs!”

Then he invites her to come raid the kitchen with him. And she’s not 8yo, but she’s only a few years older and those pastries do smell good. So the steal the whole lot and then Medusa brings him into the Strays and it starts to get a little bit easier for Gascon to survive. Idk how much he hides his name (’cause Gascon is SUCH a nobleman’s name, but also, he later signs orders to his men with all his amazing made up titles and then -G) but he definitely starts going predominantly by “Duke” and “the Duke of Dogs”.

Anyway shit, I gotta go get ready for an event, so - hope you enjoyed hearing about my upcoming Thronebreaker fics!

[ackerslut]

Prompt, Angst, The titan gets badly damaged and a lot of the crew are dead or injured, mariner goes AWOL from the cerritos to find out if boimler is okay and there's a scene with boimler unconscious on a biobed and Mariner is like "you have to live so I can feed you to an armus for leaving the cerritos!"

A/N: you sent this prompt ages ago, but the words just wouldn't happen lmao. So six months late and a few thousand words short, here you go:

ao3

Okay, so here’s the thing.

Beckett keeps files on everyone. Not physical files of course--too insecure and hackable (she should know). But a mental file. Still hackable if she runs into a telepath, but still slightly more secure from the rest of her coworkers.

It’s not as if they’re particularly like. Creepy files. She isn’t snooping into anyone’s actual physical file onboard or obtaining any info illegally. She just observes things and passively marks them for later. Tendi likes peanut-butter sandwiches. Janice gets her neck tattoos re-inked every few months. Captain Mom has a stick up her ass. That kind of thing.

It’s a fine tuned compartmentalization that’s useful in a variety of situations, whether it’s knowing what to say in a social situation or who to trust during a red alert (tip: always go with Rutherford, he’s anxious but the least likely to betray you and throw you out of an airlock. Bonus: he’s the most likely crew member on this trashcan to actually have a working idea).

Some mental files are incredibly detailed. For instance, the one on her mom is about as thick as a handbound copy of War & Peace and just as boring. Everything from her favorite flavor of ice cream to her first response to an emergency situation is in there-incredibly accurate and incredibly detailed. She’s sure her mom has a similar mental file on her as well, but resolutely does Not think about it.

Some mental files are almost empty. Ensign Gent’s toothbrush is pink. First Officer Ransom has nice abs I guess. That dude who’s name I can’t remember opened his third eye and ascended into the afterlife or something I wasn’t actually there Tendi told me and I was on my fourth drink.

And then some are medium sized but entirely unremarkable.

Like Bradward Boimler’s, for instance.

Loves classic rock. Dyes his hair purple. Stickler for rules. Needs to loosen up a bit. A lot. Probably needs to get laid. Definitely needs to get laid.

That’s it, that’s the entire file. Beckett doesn’t really concern herself with whatever’s going on with Boimler beyond the occasional ribbing or co-assignment. It’s not because she doesn’t like the dork. She would tentatively (but never to his face) call him her friend if cornered. And she enjoyed riling him up.

She updates the file about a year (almost two) into her acquaintance with him. FUCKING BACKSTABBING TRAITOR. (That’s it now, that's the entire file.) She doesn’t revisit it again, not for almost eight months, despite Tendi’s cheerful updates on how he’s doing--they’re still in constant contact, despite his ghosting Beckett--and Rutherford’s worried comments on his well-being.

“It’s not our job to babysit him,” she snapped one day. “Hell, it wasn’t our job when he was here. Just let it go.”

And that was the end of that.

______

Okay, that was very much not the end of that.

It starts like this:

“Something’s going on, on the Titan,” Tendi hisses, dropping down into Beckett’s bunk at like 2am. Time doesn’t work the same out here as it does on Beckett’s home planet, but it feels like 2am so she’s calling it 2am. Everyone who’d been on the Alpha shift were pretty much dead to the world anyway, so it might as well have been. The point was, Beckett was sleeping, Tendi should have been sleeping, but instead the two of them are having an anxious stare off in the dark.

And Beckett’s currently having cardiac arrest from being startled so soundly. After her heart starts working again like a human heart is supposed to, the words begin to register. Sort of. “What?”

Tendi flips her padd around. Beckett blinks at the bright light from the screen, squinting to see what’s there.

“Is that morse code? Why the fuck is the Titian using morse code.”

Tendi stares at her unblinkingly, face flat.

Then,

“Oh. Oh shit. Shit!” Beckett sits straight up, throwing the covers off. There’s a few protesting noises and shushes that ensue around the room, but Beckett is already making a blind grab for her pants and shoes. “The fuck didn’t you lead with that?”

“Because people are sleeping,” Tendi whispers. Loudly. She rolls off the bunk and onto the floor, shoes already on. “So we’re going, right?”

“Of course we’re fucking going,” Beckett hisses. “Why wouldn’t-”

“Because you’ve been all hung up over him for the past eight months.”

“He ghosted me!”

“Okay yeah-”

“After accepting a promotion that he promised he wouldn’t-”

“Mariner-”

“He’s a backstabbing, little weasel who climbs over his friends-”

“Is this about that or the fact that you miss him?”

Beckett finishes pulling her shoes on and stands up, scowling. “I don’t miss him. Why are you defending him?”

“I’m pissed too. Don’t get me wrong, when we see him I’m gonna kill him. But I think this is more than that.”

“Whatever.” Beckett turns on her heel. “Are we stealing a shuttle or what?”

“Rutherford’s already on it.” Tendi taps rapidly on her data padd, keeping pace with Beckett’s light job easily. “We were hoping you could like. Let your mom know-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Beckett pulls out her comm, quickly typing out a quick message to her mother. “This is gonna be a shitshow.” The two of them enter the shuttle bay, which is pretty much deserted due to it being beta-shift.

“I have no idea how we’re even going to sneak onto the planet. It’s been on lockdown since the Titian crashed there.” Tendi’s shoulders slump.

“Leave it to me, I know a guy.”

“Of course you do,” Rutherford says, popping head out the shuttle door. “Good to go?”

Tendi gives him a thumbs up.

Beckett straps herself into a chair, stomach churning. “He’s fine though, right? Like, we would have gotten a call. Who’s his emergency contact anyway?”

Tendi worries her lip between her teeth. “His mom? I don’t know, it never came up and I don’t have access to his file.”

“He wasn’t on the list of deceased. Just the missing persons list,” Rutherford offers helpfully, punching in some coordinates.

“Well that’s reassuring,” Beckett mutters under her breath. She stares down at her comm, stomach churning.

_______

“Seriously, what are the odds of this even happening?” Tendi asks, dragging Rutherford by the arm behind them. A severely concussed, disgruntled Rutherford makes a grunt of what Beckett assumes is agreement.

“Do you really want to be arguing about the odds right now?” Boimler shrieks, sliding to an uncoordinated stop as the four of them run directly into the maze wall.

“Fuck,” Beckett says, eloquently.

“I thought you said you knew which way we were going!” Boimler runs a hand through his wet hair, face going through a series of complicated expressions before settling on frustration.

Beckett crosses her arms. “I did know where we were going. When I had the fucking map!”

“Why are you yelling at me about that? I didn’t even have it!”

“I don’t see anyone else here dumb enough to have lost it.”

“Guys-”

“You were the last person with the map, Mariner.”

“Unless some idiot took it out of my pack when I wasn’t looking.”

“Guys.”

“I didn’t touch your stupid map! Why are you so fixated on this!”

“Because if we had the map, maybe we wouldn’t be about to die via giant space spider!”

“Guys!” Rutherford shouts.

Beckett jumps at the unexpected shout from the usually quiet ensign. She turns on her heel, meeting Tendi and Rutherford’s unimpressed stares.

“Lookie, secret passage.” Rutherford waves a hand to a hole in the wall that hadn’t been there like two seconds ago. “You two good? Can we go?”

Beckett pushes past Boimler, lightly shoulder checking him and jumps through the doorway after her two annoyed friends. She doesn’t listen worriedly to see if Boimler follows her (she doesn’t) and she doesn’t resist the urge to turn around and make sure he’s close.

She balls her hands into tight fists and stomps past Tendi and Rutherford, ignoring the exchanged glances. “Please tell me this is a way out.” Her flat voice has the barest hint of a tremble in it.

You’re losing your touch, Mariner, get it together, she tells herself.

Tendi pulls a lighter out of her back pocket. (Because of course D’Vana Tendi has an old timey lighter on hand. There was a reason Beckett liked her after all.) It takes a couple of flicks, but she manages to get it to catch. The small source of light barely lights up their passageway, but it’s enough to see that it leads deeper into the planet.

“Well, here goes nothing,” Tendi sighs. “I’ll take the lead, I guess. You good, Sam?”

Rutherford grimaces, but nods. “Nothing I can’t handle. Let’s just get out of here.”

_______

It would be Beckett’s luck that she and Bomlier get separated from the other two. And it would just be their luck that there’s a cave in just before they reach the end of the catacombs. And of course, of fucking course, the Cerritos’ ETA on getting them out is anywhere from 2-6 hours, depending on how fast they can get the ship up and running again.

If anyone is using buffer time, Beckett is going to put spiders in their pillowcase.

“This is bullshit,” she mutters, dropping into a seated lotus position. She plays with Tendi’s lighter, flickering it on and off again.

Boimler grimaces from across her. “Can you stop that? It’s giving me a headache.”

Beckett makes steady eye contact again and flicks it off again.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck yourself. Or whatever,” Beckett mutters. She flicks the lighter back on.

Boimler makes a face like he’s swallowing back a retort. Instead of snapping back, he jams his hands into his pockets. “Can we- can we just talk about it? Like actually talk about it, not passive aggressively pretend like-”

“Like passive aggressively avoiding your best friend’s calls is okay?” Lighter flicks off again. “Yeah, that seems like bitch move, for sure. Glad I don’t know anyone who does that.”

“I’m sorry,” Boimler says into the dark, voice cracking.

“Fuck you.” Beckett flicks the lighter back on. Boimler’s eyes follow it, eyes dilating slightly as the light hits them. She flicks it off again, plunging the cave into darkness again. She flicks it back on. Boimler leans heavily against the cave wall, not looking at her or the light. He starting to look very pale. Paler than usual.

Beckett wonders about that headache.

“How long were you out here before we got your distress signal?” she asks, keeping her eyes glued to the lighter. She sees him shrug in her peripheral.

“Dunno. A while.”

Her stomach tightens. “You didn’t like. See anything weird?”

“You mean besides you and Tendi hauling ass? Not really.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why?”

“What about strange smells-”

“Mariner.”

“You look pale,” she snaps. “And like super clammy. And I’m not talking about your stressed out will Mariner stop talking clammy, I’m talking like I think you inhaled a deadly neurotoxin kind of clammy.”

“I feel fine! Just the headache. Aaand maybe a slight stomach ache,” he adds at her flat expression. “I always have a stomach ache though-”

“-yeah, yeah, it’s the ulcer you’ve had since you were, like, two, you’re a goddamn medical marvel Boims. Budge over.” She shoves the lighter into his hands and grabs his face. “Are you dizzy,” she asks, peering in closely at his pupils.

Boimler tries to shove her away, but she’s stronger and more stubborn. “A little. Look, it’s just the headache and str-”

“Yeah, do you usually get pink eye from stress?” she asks dryly, pulling back to giving him some breathing room.

“I-what.”

“Your white are like. Super inflamed or whatever. Boimler, I think something’s wrong.”

“Shit.” He rubs his temples. “What’s that ETA again?”

“Six hours. Give or take some buffer time.” Mariner stands up. She’s not worried, she’s not. “Maybe you should lie down.”

Boimler glowers at her in the dim light, hands tightly wrapped around her lighter. “I’m fine.”

______

“Good thing you pulled him out when you did,” Dr T’Ana tells Ransom. “Any longer-” she pauses, seeing Beckett’s expression. “Do you want to know what it was?” she asks her.

Beckett, who’s currently white knuckling the back of the plastic chair by the biobed, shakes her head. “Not really,” she replies, stiffly. “Long-term effects?”

“None,” T’Ana replies, scratchy voice almost gentle. Almost. “So feel free to be as hard on him as you want when he wakes up.”

Ransom barks a laugh, clapping Beckett’s shoulder. “Oh, Mariner knows how to be-”

“If you make a single hard joke in my presence, I’m tossing you back onto that planet,” Beckett replies flatly.

Ransom removes his hand. “Right! Right, I’ll just be on my-”

“Out,” T’Ana and Beckett snap.

There’s a pause after the turbolift doors close after Ransom. Dr. T’Ana eyes Beckett warily for a moment. Then, “Call me if he wakes up with any symptoms.”

“You said-”

“Yeah, well. He has a lot of surprises in him, doesn’t he?” She gives Beckett a pointed look before leaving, grumbling down at her clipboard.

Beckett glares down at the unconscious Boimler. “The shit I go through for your dumb ass.” She flops into the uncomfortable chair. “Wake up already. It’s no fun yelling at you like this.”

____

Surprisingly, Beckett does not yell at Boimler when he wakes up. It’s a near thing, though.

“Well, thanks for not letting me die, I guess,” he says, watching her warily after she’s done ranting. Not yelling, ranting.

“I wouldn’t have let you die,” she scoffs. “You’re still my friend, dumbass.”

Boimler perks up in surprise. “What?”

“Look, just because you pulled the ultimate shitty move, doesn’t stop us from being friends. You’re still on notice, though.”

“Right! Right.” He pauses, blinking up at her. “Does it help that I submitted a transfer back to the Cerritos before any of this went down?”

Beckett freezes. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong that was my actual dream job, buuuut-”

“Riker is crazy?” Beckett dryly supplies.

“I thought you were crazy,” Boimler lets out a whooshing breath. “Like I seriously thought you were the most batshit, insane person I’d ever met, hands down. But Riker is certifiable.”

Beckett grins. She can’t suppress it and she’s too tired to try. “So you’re saying I’m preferable.”

“I will take you any day of the week over that.”

“Sounds like a compliment.”

“It is.”

“Hmm.” She eyes him critically.

“Soooo,” he draws out the word. “Am I forgiven?”

Beckett picks his shirt up off the end of the biobed and throws it at his face. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He pulls it over his head, causing his hair to stick up in the back. Beckett suppresses the urge to smooth it down.

“I like watching you squirm,” she replies. “It soothes my massively inflated ego.”

Boimler barks out a laugh, easing himself out of the biobed carefully. Beckett turns to go--he still has to talk with Dr. T’Ana and possibly her mom over the transfer, and give his full report to Riker--but stops as he catches her wrist in one hand.

“Hey. Thanks.”

Beckett’s heartbeat rackets up a few notches. Stop that, she thinks at it and then stops because thinking at your own organs is weird. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, voice even. “You would have done the same for me.”

It’s true. Boimler may be a bit of a bastard and sometimes a shitty friend, but she has no doubt he’d have come running if it’d been the Cerritos accosted.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Sometimes I feel like that’s all I do with you.”

“What?”

He drops his gentle grip on her wrist. “Nothing. Just.” He shrugs, looking cagey. “I know I’ve been a bit of a-”

“Bitch?”

“--yeah, that lately. But. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. And that’s why I’m coming back. Because-because you deserve to know that. That you're my best friend, too.”

Her face heats up. “Yeah, well,” she mumbles. “Whatever.” Jams her hands into her pockets. “Don’t think I’m just gonna forget everything because you-”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fine.” He gives her a lopsided smile. “I just thought you should know.”

____

Beckett can feel the blush on her cheekbones until she reaches her bunk. Fuck, she thinks. Fuuuuuck.

She opens up her mental file on Boimler, crossing out whatever she had in there before. Best friend, she replaces it with. Stares at it for a long moment. Erases it. Puts it back.

Bradward “Brad” Boimler. Best friend. Loves classic rock. Dyes his hair purple. Has made some improvements, but still needs to loosen up a bit. Probably needs to get laid. Definitely needs to get laid.

You could help with that.

Best friend. She underlines in the file. You don’t have feelings like that for your friends.

Beckett throws herself into her bunk. She had the horrible, sneaking suspicion that Brad Boimler’s file was about to get a lot longer.

_______

[boop-le-snoot]

I don't get it. Why do you spend so much time writing disgusting things about men twice your age (or the ones that don't exist at all)? It's incredibly sad. If you have a man, I hope he finds this "blog", if you can even call it like that, and re-evaluates his decision to date you. No normal ADULT woman spends so much time in the La-La land without neglecting her friends and significant others. And the way you objectify those men, women yell about the same thing when men do it. You're no better.

Hey anon, I was expecting you. I see that you've actually attempted to step up your game (lmao) and didn't go through with your usual "nobody cares you're alive" bullshit.

x But you caught me, red-handed. I'm a maladaptive daydreamer, and yes, I have been diagnosed. The funny thing, when it's this severe, it's classified as a form of disassociation, which is a learned response to repeated trauma, the kind that happens again and again and again and the victim survivor cannot stop it so the mind just shuts down. It's possible to unlearn-it with extensive and expensive therapy, but why would I? It's my happy place to go whenever I'm sad or bored.

That, and my ADHD, because of which boredom feels like a black hole that slowly sucks out my soul and my mind. I'm mentally ill and neurodivergent, but I can guarantee you that 9 out of 10 people have no idea - I'm successful in my field and have a friend circle.

x You're right, no man has been quite able to reach the bar I've set - and that is on me. But, perhaps, I can give you something that will shock you - I do not need a s/o to be happy. I'm actually pretty wonderful on my own. There's a certain joy to be able to come and go freely, to drop my socks wherever I want, to worry about feeding only myself. And I feel sorry for you if you depend on other people to feel validated, needed and etcetera. The stigma of living for yourself expired with the boomer generation, the overtired moms and overworked dads.

x Second thing is, there's a very big difference in how men and women sexualise the people they're attracted to.

I implore you - read ten fanfics here and then go on any male-dominated chat forum and read ten comments there. The men will go on and on about how "slutty (derogatory)" a woman looks, discuss sex acts in a way that shows they consider them to be humiliating, for the woman, the list goes on and on and on.

In my 10+ years of reading fanfic, I have yet to see an x reader fic in which the sex is described to be humiliating for the man. I've yet to see a "Steve Rogers has a small dick", I've yet to see a "Tony Stark can't find the clit lmao" comment, or any other similar derogatory things that men routinely say about women they seemingly want to fuck.

Men put down the women they want to fuck. Women do not put down men they want to fuck. It's really that easy.

Look, I didn't write this post to defend myself, I care very little about what shit some random crisp rat drops in my ask box. I wrote this post for the mutuals you've harassed and honestly, if you could have written one thing, you could've at least told me why do you consider your opinion to be valuable. We sure as hell didn't ask for it lmao

I'm pretty nihilistic, I don't like people. In general. So the things you've said really don't concern me. Idk what you wanted to achieve. If people don't like me, well, don't let the door hit you 🖐🏻

[captbenscn-a]

bensler for the otp parents thingy

Who’s the one to wake up the kids:

Probably both of them, but I can see Elliot being the one to do it more simply because he's been a parent for a long time so he's used to doing a lot of stuff that Olivia isn't. Waking his kids up for school or just waking them up in general so they don't sleep too late.

Who makes breakfast:

Both enjoy making breakfast but we both know Olivia loves to make breakfast more than anything given our roleplays, discussions and my headcanons. She definitely makes dinner now and then, too, but she LOVES to make breakfast and they'll take turns doing it. But I do love the idea of Elliot and Noah making breakfast for Olivia some mornings. And they have so much fun doing it. Noah excited to make something for his Mommy, sitting on the counter helping Elliot prepare it, riding on his shoulders when they take it up to her room or it's ready for her when she comes down. Mother's Day, Her birthday, or just whenever! It's such a sweet thought to me.

Who’s the more discipline parent and who’s the more lenient one:

Again, Elliot has the most experience when it comes to this and I think Olivia definitely turns to him for advice sometimes, but with her maternal instincts and having worked with kids, I think she knows when it's okay to be lenient and when it's not? Though, I can see her being too lenient at times, especially with the kind of past Noah had, but Elliot definitely helps balance it out. They're incredible parents and they've always balanced one another and that goes into parenting, as well. There's a lot Olivia has learned from Elliot when it comes to parenting and it's what has helped ease some of the fears and concerns that came with it.

Who helps with the science fair:

They both do! Probably Elliot more so, what with having helped his four other kids with school work and I can see him getting really into it! Coming up with ideas, helping to build something, and he and Noah having so much fun with it. Getting to work with his dad on some fun school work and even presenting it at the science fair together with Olivia taking pictures while wearing a proud smile.

Who does baby talk:

Olivia more so, definitely. But it's not really that gibberish baby talk, it's just her talking in that very soft, sweet voice of hers. Or loud and playful depending on the moment.

Who wakes up for midnight feedings:

Well, when they have their own child, Olivia breastfeeds so technically she does, but Elliot will sometimes wake up with her just to sit with her as company and once they change to the bottle, Elliot will take over doing some of the midnight feedings so Olivia can sleep as much sleep as possible, but like Elliot, sometimes Olivia will wake up with him just to sit with them both or to watch him feed their baby girl, because seeing Elliot cradle their daughter in his arms? It always melts her heart.

Who’s the one who always worries:

Oh, they BOTH worry. With the jobs they work, the things they see and have seen, and the people they know are out there? They're always worrying about their children. Olivia has always been a worrier and that strengthens when they adopt Noah and then have their own child and with Elliot having raised children already, and seeing what his own children have gone through? Of course he worries about Noah and their daughter - he's protective, always has been, and that doesn't change. But I will say maybe Olivia worries a little bit more and Elliot is the one to reassure her that things will be okay. He did so when she started having doubts about having children - because of the things that could happen to them - so I'd say Olivia probably worries more than he does, but he definitely worries.

Who picks up the kids early from school for some fun:

I don't know if they'd intentionally take their kids out of school if they still had class, but maybe on a rare occasion if they want to go out of town or something? But after school, they'll take turns picking the kids up (if the sitter doesn't) and sometimes they'll go to the park or go out for ice cream or something and it's something they also do a lot as a family.

Who’s the competitive parent:

They really only get competitive if it's playful. It's never about being the better parent, but with Elliot and Olivia always having been competitive in a friendly way with one another? It continues even when they have kids, whether they're playing games or teaming up against one another, but Olivia is probably the more competitive one in that aspect and she definitely initiates it more.

Who kisses the ouches:

I can see Olivia doing this the most out of them both. Being all sweet and kissing their fingers or their knees or elbows, helping them 'heal' by doing so whereas Elliot will lift them into his arms and give them a big hug, rubbing their back and telling them it'll be okay. And it's super cute to think about it okay ajshjhdj

Who’s the sucker for the puppy eyes:

I think they're both pretty good at resisting the puppy eyes, but if their little girl has Olivia's eyes? Elliot is probably in danger haha. Because we know how gorgeous her eyes are and how expressive they are, too. Sometimes one look at Elliot from Olivia can have him weak at the knees, especially if she's smiling or grinning at him too, and so as they raise their baby girl, I can see Elliot being like 'She HAD to have your eyes' because of how expressive they are and how she might use them against him, especially with Olivia teaching her how to do it. 'Give Daddy a smile and he's all yours' and cute things like that and we all know she's gonna be a Daddy's girl!

Who makes the “dad jokes”:

Okay, Elliot definitely has some jokes but we both know Olivia has the worst ones. They're so hilariously bad sometimes so in terms of bad dad jokes, Olivia, but good jokes? Probably Elliot and he's already such a dad so he has a lot of those already in his mind and he loves to embarrass his kids with silly jokes, whereas Olivia thinks hers are good, but they aren't lmao.

Who embarrasses their kid for fun:

Hmm, maybe Elliot? As long as it's all in good fun, of course. We see him that way in the show with his kids already but Olivia has her own little stories and ways to embarrass them, too.

Who’s the over protective one:

This kind of goes back to the one who always worries, so I'm gonna leave it. But they're both very protective.

Who’s the “take a sweater!” parent:

They both like to make sure their children are appropriately dressed for the weather so I'd say they're both like that, but maybe Olivia a little more so? Even though Elliot has always been the one to make sure Olivia eats well enough and that she rests whenever possible, not to mention lending her his coat on several occasions, but I can definitely see Olivia hurrying to bring them their coats or sweaters or something if she notices them leaving without it.

[gordvendomewhore]

heyo this was supposed to be attached to a reblog of @schoolfullofmorons‘s post but it is so outrageously long and has taken several days and therefore is its own post now LMAO

because this is super long, everything is gonna be under the keep reading thingy teehee

anyway,,, i present to you: all nine preppies, and how they would act during quarantine 

(please note that these are just headcanons and honestly are pretty ooc considering the fact they’re all assholes who would protest quarantine with signs that say “WE WANT HAIRCUTS” but GOD i just wanna pretend they’re decent people for a day or two)

derby:

thinks the virus is a joke and would 100% protest quarantine, but still gets SUPER antsy and jumpy when anyone coughs or sneezes around him

wastes a bunch of water and half a bottle of soap washing his hands for ten minutes straight, but totally not because he’s scared or anything!! the virus still totally isn’t real!!!

since there’s only the household help he can boss around, derby gets bored and lonely pretty quickly, and misses feeling in control.

in attempts to fix this, he tends to call up bif or some of the other preps just to half heartedly yell at them about every little inconvenience that happens in his day to day life, but they’re really dismissive and say things like, “yes, yes, derby, whatever you say.”

(they all know derby is just expressing how he misses them in the only way he knows how.)

derby probably spends a bunch of time lounging around the house, watching the workers do their thing and thinking about how he’s sooooo much better and fancier and richer than them.

however,,,,,, he ends up watching them so often and so intently that the workers get confused and wonder if derby is interested in trying out what they do around the house (cleaning, cooking, gardening, etc.)

so they offer to teach derby, and of course, derby gets wildly upset and most likely threatens both their jobs and their lives haHa

it doesn’t stop him from watching just a tiny bit closer though, you know,,,, just to make sure that these paupers are doing everything to the harrington standard

derby pays off the teachers to keep his grades up and acknowledges school in absolutely no other way.

bif:

while bif is concerned about the virus, he doesn’t really care about school closing down.

school was never his main priority, but he’ll still make sure to tune into a couple of his online classes every week because of the sheer guilt that starts to pile up over time.

however he will NOT do anything with his assignments except read over them, and similar to derby, pays off a nerd to do his homework for him to make it seem like he’s actually doing something.

BUT you can totally bet that bif is one thousand percent upset over the boxing gym being closed down!!

he still has his personal gym in his mansion, which he now uses a lot (partially because he has so much time to kill, but also because he’s still butthurt over jimmy’s scrawny ass beating him)

but it’s not the same because now he can’t train with the other preps!!!!!

how will he know if they’re improving? or if they have the proper stance??? or if they’re swinging with the right force????? or if—

but yeah, bif makes sure to check up on the preps every once in awhile to see their boxing progress

he finds quarantine to be incredibly quiet and empty, in a literal and metaphorical sense.

he isn’t lonely per say, bif actually finds a lot of peace in the silence!

he gets a lot more time to think than he normally does and that’s a gift within itself.

...but his days are usually filled with never ending whining and the loud screaming of faux accents, so the sudden change feels strange, but not unwelcomed.

(plus he still has derby bothering him 24/7 so it’s not like much has changed anyway LMAO)

bif may not admit it out loud, but he misses his prep family clique members a whole lot. :(

gord:

this bitch couldn’t care less about the whole situation.

he spends his days at home binging every movie and tv show known to mankind, expanding on his beauty care regimen, and doing major amounts of online shopping; daddy’s card isn’t gonna just spend itself after all!

he’s actually clearing out the entire aquaberry stock as we speak.

gord is aware of the dangers of the virus, but hey, he’s not stepping a foot outside anytime soon, and he’s always been the hygienic type, so why stress over something out of his control?

this king is absolutely thriving, the outside world truly does not matter to him anymore.

(but did it ever?)

gord will admit that he misses his friends, but it’s not like he has no means of communication with them!

you can bet your ass that every single prep is being hit up with a selfie of gord‘s magnificent face every single day of the WEEK baybee.

gord would also be the time to experiment with new hobbies and activities, yknow like a bunch of random shit like knitting or wood carving just to say he’s actually done something during quarantine.

he’s also the type of person to get really obsessed with social media quarantine too LMAO he probably gained thousands of followers on twt or tiktok or some shit for thirst trapping

gord would 100% open an onlyfans too, but he doesn’t need the money

plus, the world already can’t handle him and he CANNOT be held responsible for the chaos that will ensue if he does more than mere thirst traps

with school, he skips out on the online classes for subjects he doesn’t take an interest in, but rigorously studies for the ones he does care about (especially if they’ll play a big part in law school!!!

tad:

oh poor baby, he’s stuck at home with his horrible excuse of a father.

tad, like the other preps, doesn’t care for school (“money gets you farther in life than education ever will,” derby harrington at some point), but that doesn’t stop him from sucking himself into his education.

he attends all his online classes, does all his homework, studies optional material, does extra credit, anything to keep his mind away and busy from his dad.

(idk what tad’s dad does for a living but let’s just pretend he’s an essential worker and is out of the house often because i do Not Want tad suffering more than he has to)

he’ll take lots of walks around the neighborhood, and spends a lot of time hanging in the park.

plus gord usually calls him every other day or so to keep him company and the two will just chill together and talk.

tad probably gets into some soft hobbies like keeping up a diary, sewing, painting, and maybe even slowly picks up baking again.

gord probably sent him a bunch of tiktoks of people making frog bread and tad knew in his heart that he needed to make frog bread too LMAO

tad is canonically the type of person that would bake for your bday, so he experiments around with cakes and sweet treats in general he thinks the other preps would like.

there’s an Entire Fridge in his house dedicated to his baked goods now. that’s how often tad bakes.

he also looks forward to the day he can see his friends again and plans out all the things they’ll do once they’re reunited.

the preps are more of a loving family than his real family ever was, and tad doesn’t plan to let that fact go by unnoticed in the future :))

parker:

he lowkey goes insane.

parker has no idea what to do with himself now that he’s stuck at home with his parents and sister.

don’t get him wrong, he really loves his family, and genuinely enjoys the family activities his mother forces them to bond over, but what else is there to do?

he’s bored.

plus, parker gets up in his head way too often, and now there’s nothing to distract him.

he never really had any particular hobbies, and you will never catch him doing school work (he pays off his teachers).

and even though being at school sucks because bullworth academy itself sucks, doing things with the other preps made parker forget about his lack self importance and direction in life.

it seems like the end of the world to him, more because of his life and schedule being interrupted rather than the virus itself.

when he’s not with his family, parker spends a lot of time lounging in the mansion’s garden with the garden gnomes, and talks to them pretty often too (we’ve all heard those voice lines LMAO).

parker talks about everything and anything with the gnomes, and allows himself to just rant about life.

and sure, he thinks people who talk themselves 24/7 are hella crazy, but hey!! the gnomes love to listen!!! so therefore parker isn’t crazy!!!!!

he probably ends up doing gardening as a small hobby, and he genuinely likes it!

...even if it does have him down in the dirt and covered in sweat amongst other filth.

parker’s one of the less pretentious preps, so i can see him putting his entitled behavior aside, even if it is only this one time and for this one thing.

after all, his money and status don’t exactly matter anymore; everyone’s busy caring about more dire matters.

after the initial boredom, i can see parker letting loose and maybe even becoming a more decent person while in quarantine.

bryce:

he is 24/7 anxious.

it’s not specifically because of the virus itself, or because of school closing down, but it’s just the whole situation in general that makes him nervous.

bryce is stuck at home with his mother and father, in what bryce likes to call their cozy mansion, but what derby likes to call their oversized blue collar cottage (which bryce finds dumb because his parents don’t even work blue collar jobs).

his father, even during these dire times, is still gambling and wasting their money away, so that just hella adds onto bryce’s anxiety about the situation.

golf & yacht (where bryce canonically works) closes down since it isn’t considered an essential business, and so bryce ends up losing his job.

he’s really desperate to find another place to work, and rightfully so!! he doesn’t want his family to be losing more money than they gain.

bryce probably ends up working somewhere a step above fast food (he isn’t that desperate), like a cafe, since some are still open and surprisingly busy.

because of this, most of his hours are spent split between working and sleeping, and bryce doesn’t exactly have time to think about anything else other than family and money issues (something he thought he’d never have to worry about).

but bryce hides his physical and mental exhaustion quite well, mostly so that his life proceeds without anyone wasting his time with questions of concern.

sometimes the preps that aren’t as judgmental as the others (tad, gord, parker, pinky, bif) will check up on him and even offer to lend his family some money, but bryce knows better than to accept donations of any kind.

he tries to attend the online classes that he can, and does a lot of his homework with tad.

chad:

put simply, chad is fine.

he wasn’t particularly shocked when the virus was reported to be spreading, or when school was closed down, or even when he had to say goodbye to his fellow preps and the harrington house, and leave to his home in old bullworth vale.

chad was never strongly effected by any of this, and honestly is just really relaxed.

chad’s relationship with his parents is quite well (despite their occasional nagging), and he has a lot of hobbies that filled up his time during school and still fill up his time now.

so unlike tad or gord, chad doesn’t go searching for new activities to keep him busy or give him a sense of meaning and accomplishment.

chad wakes up early in the morning, when the sun is still rising, spends his day playing with his dog, chester, jogging around the neighborhood or park, boxing in his home gym, talking with his family, attending his flute lessons (which are now online), and then he goes to sleep with a tired mind, yet a well rested soul.

the only thing he doesn’t do is his school work (he pays off his teachers like derby), but occasionally you’ll see him attend an online class or two.

he lives his life on a clean schedule, and enjoys the alone time he gets during these tough times.

there’s no significant change in how he goes by his days, and chad is perfectly content with that. :)

justin:

he’s vibing.

at the beginning of quarantine, justin probably spent a bunch of time laying in his $10,000 satin sheets, doing nothing but thinking about random shit ranging from whether or not his family should invest in a second jacuzzi, his raging insecurities, how big his muscles are, or if he’ll ever get a chance to talk to the ted thompson himself, but that all gets old REAL quick.

he’s the type of person to be like, “i’m too rich to be sulking around!” even though those two things don’t exactly correlate in this situation LMAO

(but oh well, justin is a prep after all, their whole personalities are based around money.)

similar to bif with his boxing, justin throws himself entirely into swimming!

his family owns an indoor and outdoor pool, but nothing will EVER beat the feeling of swimming in the ocean for him.

there’s just nothing that feels the same, not even a pool with saltwater will ever mimic the feeling.

so justin will often times travel from his cozy home out to the beach just to swim and chill out in the sand for awhile, whether it be for thirty minutes or a whole afternoon.

omg he also gets really into corona virus gossip

*justin the the prep group chat* “guys, i heard that if you put an onion in every corner of your house, you’ll be safe from corona”

“guys did you know that if you drink a shot of vinegar everyday it’ll clean out your immune system?”

“GUYS omg i just heard that if you bathe in a mix of egg yolks and nesquik chocolate milk powder, you’ll be immune to corona!!!”

and everyone is just so tired of him (except for parker who believes almost everything justin says and derby who encourages his behavior on because he lives for chaos)

he pays off his teachers for grades lolol mr. hattrick didn’t get fired for us to just forget these canon facts

honestly justin completely forgets school exists as a whole.

pinky:

pinky is completely sucked into social media.

she has an account on every big platform out there, each one being incredibly active, and each one having a cult following.

and now she gets to be even more active than she was before!!

pinky spends all of her time doing complex photoshoots in her bedroom, experimenting with intricate makeup looks, binging tv shows with gord, and contemplating whether or not she should give herself bangs (you can bet all of this shit and more is going onto her accs too).

pinky also spends a lot of money ordering random shit she doesn’t need and sometimes doesn’t even want, but hey!! it’s free serotonin, and pinky’s therapist says that serotonin is a good thing ahahA

sometimes she’ll even order something and just send it to random addresses just for the fun of it.

pinky is like santa, but with better fashion taste and a little less no slave labor.

speaking of therapy, her sessions are now all online because we practice social distancing in this house teehee

shits and giggles aside however, pinky is thriving!

she’s happy, and healthy, and safe in her mansion, and besides the general feeling of unimportance and lack of meaning during these times where time itself doesn’t feel like it exists at all, she’s fine haHA.

her parents keep nagging her to talk to derby and to “hang out with her future hubby while the streets are empty and there’s free time!” but pinky is NOT breaking quarantine to hang out with a boy who made her wait for a whole three minutes on their date.

(she had a nicer time with jimmy than derby would’ve ever given her anyway.)

surprise surprise! pinky also pays the nerds to do her work, but still attends most of her classes for fun, mostly so she can help tad and bryce with anything if they need it.

real queen shit if you ask me.

whew, thanks for reading all of that if you did!! sorry it was super long but enjoy your preppy food lmao

oh and my anon asks are on now so go ahead and send me some shit if you want to!! headcanon requests, drawing requests, questions in general lol anything

anyway bye byeee uwu

[evilkitten3]

Stop making fun of mentally ill and neurodivergent-coded characters

I'm seriously sick of people treating neurodivergent characters as a joke. If you make jokes about a character who's implied to have something that you have (like myself with, say, Kaminari from BNHA), that's one thing.

But if you don't have the condition in question, you don't get to treat it like a game. I'm gonna address the BNHA fandom directly right now, because A) I see it there more than anywhere else, and B) the rampant ableism (and abuse apologism) in both the fandom and the canon material is the reason I dropped out of the fandom and may not ever fully return.

Iida, Asui, Midoriya, and Kouda are all coded as having ASD (for anyone who doesn't know, that's Autism Spectrum Disorder). At first, Midoriya was handled decently, but eventually his autistic traits began to be treated more and more as jokes. Iida's autistic traits were treated as jokes from the start. Asui and Kouda both dodged this for the most part- Kouda because he doesn't have many appearances and Asui likely because the coding was unintentional and remains unnoticed.

Fandom-wise, all four are infantalized to an absurd extent. Iida, Kouda, and Midoriya are all treated as "innocent cinnamon rolls uwu must protect" despite being legitimately powerful. Iida and Midoriya are both very fast and pretty damn strong, and Kouda can control animals. He controllers enough bugs to completely encase Mic's leg up to the knee, which seemed to take very little effort on his part. Asui mostly avoids the infantilization, but I've definitely seen her get hit with it too.

Todoroki is frequently reduced to existing solely to spite his dad and/or to be in love with Midoriya (often in a way that insults the both of them).

By far, however, the worst of this is directed at Bakugou. In both the fandom and the manga/anime, his severe mental health issues are reduced to a joke. His anger is generally treated as "lol there goes our resident anger boi rip in pieces" rather than "hey this kid is so well known to be incapable of accepting help that the person who's known him the longest has a legitimate concern that he would refuse to accept help from a life-or-death situation unless it was from one specific person".

I don't think that gets entirely attention. Almost every character who mentions it agrees that Bakugou would be offended by anyone trying to help him. This is a teenager who's been kidnapped by criminals, the majority of whom are known murderers. In the rare instances that the fandom acknowledges this, it's usually for the sake of a "cute romantic scene with Kirishima".

Jokes are also frequently made about "Bakugou admitted we're his friends lmao", which is incredibly counterproductive. With someone like Bakugou, at attempt at self-improvement getting met with mockery would encourage him to refrain from repeated attempts. People also tend to think that his friends using his superiority complex to get him to do what they want is funny. It's not. It's manipulative as hell. And if they're doing it, they aren't good friends.

Even when people do try to deal with his issues, it can get pretty bad. I remember one fic that had him transferred to the gen ed department to learn to be more humble or something. Interesting idea, but Bakugou's mental health has warped his view of the world to the point where doing something like that could lead to an increase in self-destructive behavior.

I know this has gotten kinda long, so I'll just add one more thing about Bakugou before wrapping this up:

He needs help. He needs help that U.A. and his parents are either unable or unwilling to give him, and it's incredibly unlikely that he'll be able to heal - from the damage inflicted on him by others as well as the damage he's caused himself - without being removed from his current environment altogether. I personally recommend wilderness therapy. It isn't fun, but it sure as shit helped me out.

Anyway, tldr: neurodivergent people aren't jokes. Don't treat us like it.

[midnight-in-town]

Rin has been my favorite AnE character since the beginning. Such a sweet guy, and an interesting take on the traditional Idiot Hero. I like Kato's take on several of the Shonen manga archetypes for that matter. What are some of your favorite reconstructions of familiar character types in AnE?

Hey Anon! To be honest, I can’t say I’m that aware of the usual shonen archetypes considering that I read seinen more. :) And I’m not a literary reference, so it’s kinda hard to use the right words too. 

That being said, Rin’s a fave too, with Mephisto, Shiro, Shura, Shiemi… and the rest of the cast. xDD So I’ll try to answer you. 

For Rin, I like how he doesn’t simply get stronger with each arc, but he grows up on many aspects at once. Sure, first he learnt to control his flames, then he learnt to focus his attacks, and then his sword was broken in ch98 destroying the seals over his power, but otherwise each arc gave Rin other things to focus on.

In fact, I like that it’s not just his nature as a demon that he has to deal with, but also the consequences of that with the people around him. Like, as the story begins, we see Rin as kind of a loner, because he tries to fit in but can’t. 

So having friends (and falling for Shiemi) was a really new experience for him, one he’s enjoying but that he still has to learn about sometimes:

And as he’s getting better with that, that’s when the one constant in his life so far…

shatters. Mostly though, I love Rin because he’s… so sweet, as you said. 

Initially, he was presented as your usual Shonen hero indeed, especially with his goal to defeat Satan after Shiro’s death, but slowly the whole story moves on from that. That goal of his is less and less mentioned (which is not typical of usual shonen heroes who tend to cling to their goals in my opinion) as Rin is simply going through life and now…

And in my opinion we went from “beating Satan’s ass” to…

…a slight difference I really enjoy, even I’m no fan of Satan (and I want to see him lose). 

Similarly for Yukio, who’s as much a main character as Rin is, his angst defies usual levels you have for characters of a similar type and what I love is that it’s really building up throughout the whole story: Shura showed signs of having noticed it before Toudou was introduced, we found out that he was already preoccupied back when Shiro was still alive (ch93), up till his own despair and pure self-loathing got the better of him.

And I really feel for him and his illustration of the “fallen angel” trope. I mean, I’m the first to say it’s easy to roll your eyes and hope that he’ll stop seeing everything in the darkest black, but it’s the slow unravelling to this state through so many arcs that makes it so impressive and seemingly impossible to solve at the moment. 

A lot will probably have to happen before he’ll manage to come back.

The thing is, we all knew Yukio was going to break down at some point. He got some sort of a recess with the Aomori arc, but before we eventually reached the anti hero/fallen angel level, we passed by attempted suicide and that gave a whole new tone to the manga (especially since it’s shonen) in my opinion.

I said before that there is a lot of cliché tropes about twins in manga that I don’t really like: the good twin/bad twin trope is one, but by showing us the extent of Yukio’s issues before he completely fell into the abyss, I find that Sensei is avoiding cliché once again. 

And both for Yukio and Rin, I like that romance took a more unexpected turn that one could have expected at first, at least in my opinion. :)

Moving onto Mephisto, I love the fact that he’s both literally The Chessmaster…

and incredibly powerful as Samael, but his behavior most of the time doesn’t reflect that. 

…Which is usually the case with the clown type (looking at UT in Kuroshitsuji, or Checkerface in KHR, same for the Clowns in TG even if it’s Seinen), so this part isn’t exactly surprising, but it’s more how his true nature was never exactly hidden and yet he can still completely surprise us on many things. 

That’s why I really enjoy the theory that he might be the big bad, as far as the twins are concerned, because knowing he’s on Assiah’s side, you tend to think that even if he’s an ass at least he’s on “our” side, when it might be more complicated than that. :) 

Plenty of others reasons to appreciate Mephy’s character though, as I shared here. :)

For Shura, it’s mostly a matter of contrast. She’s The Mentor, but she’s not particularly acting responsible otherwise (due to the thing with Hachiro), because her motivations are initially related to her own pet peeve (Shiro).

She’s also without a doubt the hottest girl of the whole series (not a big fan of Iblis and her three eyes personally) and yet her behavior once again doesn’t fit what you’d expect of this kind of characters in other shonen series, again just in my opinion. 

She’s not a dignified or proper lady, who bats an eyelash and everyone is wooed, or who behaves coldly/unaffected to others: she used to be a heavy drinker, she’s hardly ever serious, she loves getting on people’s nerves on purpose, etc.

Again, this is related to her issues with Hachiro (and Shiro), but I like that the fact she’s Hot™ (trademarked by Mephisto) doesn’t mean she can’t be powerful, or Rin’s mentor, or getting on people’s nerves, or insulting her superiors, etc. 

Just like I enjoy the fact that she can dress scantily (probably because she likes it) and that doesn’t mean she’s a hoe or only about fan service, as we could see Shiro lecture her on the subject, in ch78. 

Maybe I’m not explaining super well, but it’s really about Sensei not being too over the top with any character and that shows up in Shura as well: 

she’s Rin’s mentor but sometimes she’s at a loss with what to do; 

she’ll do anything to protect the twins but she still gets scared by Mephisto’s shenanigans; 

she’s older than the boys but she still needed their help with an issue even Shiro couldn’t help her with

after the Aomori arc, she started to act more mature in general because the twins are going to need her, etc.

Again, it’s really a thing for most of the cast, but I like it even more in Shura’s case, because, even with just the way she dresses as an example, she really could have been a shallow character but Sensei managed to weigh in everything properly.  

Now, as far as Shiro goes, I love how Sensei deconstructed his character through several flashbacks, slowly shedding his coat of “the perfect dad” he seemed to be after sacrificing himself to save Rin in ch1. 

Oh sure, he was a good parent, but not perfect as we can see with Yukio or even Shura and that is something that we needed to make clear, both for the plot but also for the twins’ sake. 

Speaking of the plot, I like that Shiro’s a walking mystery very plot-relevant and not just The Hero’s Father Figure Who Died Helplessly. It would have been very easy to make Shiro a symbol Rin was becoming stronger to get revenge for, but it’s about so much more than that.  

Because if Shiro is a symbol of anything, it’s about how the Order is full of bullshit and enslaving the pawns that are necessary to them…

…as Mephisto made sure we got right:

Even now that he’s dead, I have doubts about Shiro being free from whatever he’s supposed to owe the Order/Mephisto. So yeah, he’s so much more than the Dead Symbolic Hero or whatever trope he’s supposed to illustrate, in a very tragic way actually, and I love that!

And finally about Shiemi (because I really gotta stop somewhere), what can I say besides the fact that she’s a very surprising one. :D 

We’ve been getting many character arcs ever since the beginning and yet it was so unexpected to me when it turned out she was going to have her own and that it’d be so very main plot-relevant. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, since everyone in the main cast gets one, but I still definitely wasn’t envisioning anything at all like the theories about Shemihaza before we hit the current arc!

Other examples of why she’s kept on surprising me throughout the story: the first time we meet her, she’s this helpless and mourning girl who’s been possessed by a demon, then she gets used by Izumo upon trying to make friends. I’m sure you remember that girl. 

And yet she saved Paku and then everyone else in Neuhaus’ arc immediately after. Same in the Kyoto arc: she was as pissed and scared as everyone (not counting Izumo) about Rin’s origins, but she was the first who managed to admit how misguided she was when she realized how much he suffered about being different.

What I’m trying to say is that Shiemi constantly surprised me and also other characters in the story (for example), despite the fact that Sensei wrote plainly what her character was about very early on in the story:

So yeah actually she helped Paku, she helped Rin, she helped Izumo, she tried to help Yukio, she saved everyone from being burnt by Rin going Satan 2.0… And now she’s in trouble with the Vatican. 

In a way she’s more the typical Shonen Hero than Rin is, when she’s supposed to be the Main Girl, lmao. For example, everyone found out about who Rin was pretty quickly in the story, meanwhile…

…her own identity is more of a secret than Rin being Satan’s son or Mephisto being a high-level demon and something both characters and readers are getting angsty about. 

And, as I tried to explain above, Rin’s currently more involved with acknowledging where he comes from and bringing his brother back over having to save the world or denouncing that the Order is probably really no better than the Illuminati. 

Even his goal of defeating Satan, which is very Shonen-like, hasn’t been mentioned in a long time now. Meanwhile Shiemi’s character arc directly delves into how shady the Order is as an organization…

and this might indirectly lead us to her having to play a very important role with protecting everyone from Satan/the Illuminati (whether it’s by her will or not).

Of course, Rin’s own journey in the past is showing us many of the Order’s dirty secrets but the point is for Rin to learn about the past so that he can bring Yukio back (what he wants) and possibly defeat Lucifer (what Mephisto wants). When it comes to the state of the world with the opening of the artificial Gehenna gate, for now it’s not exactly Rin’s problem, but it might be more related to Shiemi’s arc if she’s truly related to Shemihaza (because of the Grigoris). 

It’s probably badly summarized, but that’s how I see it. xD As I said in the beginning, I’m really not good about precisely describing shonen archetypes, so this may not be making any point. I just like AnE because I find that Sensei does manage to avoid making her characters a bunch of stereotypes easy to read through, in a very realistic way. See below, with Lightning’s example:

Even Arthur, who’s presented as the most stereotypical dude in the whole cast in my opinion, might be hiding his game better than most of us can probably imagine.

That’s what I like the most when it comes to what you were asking about. :) Kato-sensei is an excellent writer because of this amongst other things. 

Sorry it took me a little while to answer you Anon, but I had a lot I wanted to write and it was actually very hard to explain. I hope this answered your question at least a little though. Have a nice weekend! ^3^

[ilya-sorokins]

Prompt: cliche as fuck Lucaya break up Lucas moves. Comes back years later to find out Maya has a kid. His kid but he doesn't know. And no one will tell him.

so i think i got this ask in 2017 (tumblr really ought to put dates on these things) HOWEVER i started it like as soon as a got it, and i forgot about it for like a year, and i FINALLY finished it! pls keep in mind that this was written over the course of at least a year and a half and no one proofread it lmao. also lucaya is pretty much dead so i’m not expecting much out of this. 

title: everything’s gonna be alrightword count: 7k+ship: lucaya, side riarkleao3

It all starts when Lucas Friar is offered a job. Not just any job, though. A job in Texas. A job that’s approximately 1,743 miles away from New York City. It’s also a job that’s approximately 1,743 miles from Maya Hart.

When he first tells Maya, she laughs, “You’re kidding, right?” But his face says otherwise. “Wait, you aren’t seriously considering accepting the offer, are you?”

“I’ve already accepted, Maya,” he tells her gently, squeezing her hand in his. “One of my former professors recommended me for the position, and the pay is amazing. I couldn’t turn it down.”

“What about me?” she asks, taking her hand from his and crossing her arms. She pinches herself repeatedly, thinking, This is just a dream, you’ll wake up and laugh at such a crazy idea. Lucas isn’t moving to Texas any time soon.

Brows furrowed, Lucas responds, “I assumed you would come with me. We were planning on moving in together soon, anyways.”

He reaches to take her hand again, but she moves away from his touch. Shocked at her reaction, he inches away from the blonde, a chasm beginning to grow between them.

“Lucas, you do realize that I have a life here, right?” she snaps, clenching her fists in her lap. “I have a family, friends, a damn job. I can’t just uproot my life.”

“I know,” he says slowly, thoughts churning in his head, “I just–well, I thought you’d want to come with me. We love each other. I’d planned on spending my life with you.”

The anger inside Maya quickly boils down into sadness and heartbreak. “I do love you, Lucas,” she begins, tears welling in her blue eyes, “but if you actually take this job, if you actually leave, then we’re done. There can’t be an us if you’re halfway across the country.”

“Then I guess we’re over,” he says simply. “I can’t turn down this opportunity. I’d never forgive myself. Maybe one day you’ll understand that, Maya.”

She’s so shocked that she doesn’t even realize he’s left until the door slams. Then the floodgates open and sobs wrack her tiny body. Tears stream down her cheeks, dripping onto her chest.

Maya cries so violently she ends up making herself sick. She runs to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits.

But the burn in her throat is nothing compared to the pain of her broken heart.

On autopilot, the woman gets up from the floor to brush her teeth. As she looks in the mirror, her disheveled reflection shows her mascara stained cheeks and post-vomit session hair. Normally Maya would fix herself up, make herself look presentable, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

It’s not like she has anyone to impress anymore.

Before she starts crying again, she decides to make a call. She finds her phone and goes to her favorite contacts. Before long, she’s greeted with a chirpy, “Peaches! How’d it go? I’ve been thinking about it all day!”

She takes a deep breathe. “I didn’t get to tell him, Riles. We just broke up.”

“What?!” Riley screeches, her tone dripping in shock. “Why? I thought you all were happy.”

“So did I,” the blonde muses. “He accepted a position in back in Austin without talking to me about it. He just assumed I’d go with him.”

The other woman’s gasp can be heard through the phone. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, Maya.”

“I wish I could go with him,” she says honestly. “It’s not like I can. I’ve worked too hard to get my teaching job to just leave.”

“I agree with you, but what about–”

“The baby?” Maya finishes for her. The awkward silence is an answer enough. “He’s not going to find out that I’m pregnant. He doesn’t need to know. When he chose the job over me, he lost his right to know about my life. Plus, I was raised by a single mom, and I turned out okay. At least I think I did. We’ll make do.”

“Peaches, do you want me to come over?” Riley asks, concerned about her friend.

“You don’t need to do that…” she answers, trailing off. “But if you want to, I wouldn’t be opposed to eating ice cream and watching Friends in our pajamas.”

Her best friend laughs and it’s the first time Maya smiles since Lucas told her about the job offer.

“Okay, I’ll grab a few pints of Ben and Jerry’s and head over. Be there in thirty?”

Maya responds, “That works. Thank you, Riles. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

The blonde lets out a breath, “Let’s hope.”

When she ends the call, she drops her hand to her still-flat stomach.

I guess it’s just me and you now, kiddo, she thinks, rubbing small circles. Everything’s gonna be alright. 

—————————————-—————————————-

On a scorching day in the late spring, Maya gives birth to a beautiful baby girl after an incredibly long labor. She has wisps of dark blonde hair and her mother’s piercing blue eyes. The first person to hold her after her mother is Riley.

“She’s perfect, Maya,” the brunette whispers, holding the newborn in her arms. “Did you pick her name?”

She nods, looking at the sleeping baby in her friends arms, “Lucy Jane Hart. Lucy means light, and this little one is the light of my life.”

Riley says, “I love it. She’s lucky to have such a great mom.”

“I hope you’re right. I really, really hope so.”

While this moment occurs in New York, Lucas is returning to an empty apartment in Texas. He’s had yet another boring day at work, and every part of him misses Maya.

There have been several nights where he’s had a few drinks and almost called her, but even when he’s drunk he can’t forget her words.

If you actually leave, then we’re done.

And Lucas left. He made that decision. With each day that passes, his mistake becomes more and more apparent.

As he opens his first beer of the night, he says to nothing, “I miss Maya,” and wishes she was there with him.

At the same time, Maya holds her daughter and says, “I miss Lucas,” and wishes he was there with her.  

But neither knows they’re thinking the same thing, and they go on with their lives. One day at a time.

—————————————-—————————————-

Almost six years later, Maya hears the words she never thought she’d hear.

“Lucas is back,” Farkle tells her over the phone. “He’s literally on his way to my apartment as we speak.”

It comes as such a shock to her body that she finds herself doubled over her classroom’s trash can, throwing up her lunch. Luckily it’s after school hours, so she won’t have any curious middle school students asking, “Miss Hart, are you okay?”

(Because her answer would be no, Miss Hart is not okay.)

“Maya,” she hears through her cell. “Maya, are you still there?”

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, picking up her phone to answer him. “I’m still here. I just threw up everything in my stomach.”

“Shit, Maya,” he says with a sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t be excited, but I didn’t think you’d react that badly.”

“Tell me about it,” she mutters. She hadn’t thrown up since her morning sickness days. Maya’s generally a healthy person. Except when she finds out the father of her child is back in town. That easily upsets her stomach. “Is he back for good?”

“Yes. He’s transferring to a vet’s office in the city,” Farkle tells her. “He asked to stay with us for a few nights, he can’t move into his apartment until Monday.”

“Oh, fuck,” Maya curses. “He’s gonna want to see me, isn’t he?”

“He’s already asked about you. He didn’t waste any time.”

A blush spreads across her cheeks and she’s immediately thankful to be alone right now. “Dammit,” she curses again.

“Uh, Maya,” he says, “You do remember what day it is, right?”

The woman’s eyes trail to her desk calendar. Thursday. What’s so special about Thurs– “Fuck, you all have Lucy right now!” she remembers. Riley always watches the five year old at her and Farkle’s place so Maya can stay at the school and finish up some work. “Wait–you said he’s on his way now?!”

“That’s what I said.”

“Shit! He’s gonna know she’s not yours!” she rambles, grabbing her bag. “I’m leaving the school right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You’ll probably get here right before him.”

“Oh, I will be there before him,” Maya promises, exiting the building. She hangs up the phone and books it to the Minkus-Matthews apartment.

When she arrives, she’s drenched in sweat and her feet are on fire. Silently she curses herself for picking style over comfort when it came to today’s shoes. The wedges seemed like a great idea this morning.

Letting herself in, Maya calls out, “Hello?”

Seconds later the pitter-patter of tiny feet can be heard. Lucy crashes into her mother, nearly knocking Maya down, greeting, “Mommy! You’re early!”

“I just missed you so much!” she tells her, stooping down to her level. The little girl beams at her, ecstatic at the surprise.

“I missed you, too, Mommy! I had so much fun at school today!” she tells her, jittering with energy.

Maya laughs, wondering exactly how fun a day of first grade could be. Nonetheless, she replies, “I can’t wait to hear all about it, little bug. Where’s Auntie Riley and Uncle Farkle?”

The girl grabs her hand, leading her through the apartment. In the kitchen she finds the couple, where they are speaking in heated whispers, undoubtedly over Lucas’ impending arrival.

“Peaches!” Riley says, still greeting with the childhood nickname. “How was your day?”

“It was great until I got the news,” she says, letting out a sigh. She looks around to see what Lucy’s doing, but she’s too busy showing Farkle her new book to eavesdrop. “I’m scared, Riley.”

The woman’s face falls. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Maya. Plus, it could be good, you know,” she tells her, then her voice drops to a whisper, “Meeting her dad.”

Maya shakes her head, “I don’t know, Riles. It’s always been us. Lucy’s never even asked about her dad. Anyways, he may not even want her.”

The brunette narrows her eyes, “You know that’s not true. He will do everything for her once he finds out. Plus, Lucy will start asking about him sooner rather than later.”

As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she knows she’s right. Lucas isn’t the type to abandon his own daughter. If anything, he’ll want to make up for nearly six years of lost time. And Maya also knows that he’s going to be heartbroken that she never told him. But she’ll cross that road when she comes to it.

And just because Lucy isn’t curious about her dad now, doesn’t mean she won’t ever be. Maya knows that from experience.

When the doorbell rings and interrupts her thoughts, she nearly collapses. Oh, god, I’m seeing Lucas Friar for the first time in almost seven years, she thinks, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“I’ve got it!” Farkle calls out, headed towards the door. A curious Lucy attempts to trail behind him, but Maya quickly gets her attention.

“Lucy, honey, come here!” she calls.

The little girl walks over, “Yes, Mommy?”

“We’re gonna head home soon, do you have all your stuff together?”

She pauses, thinking about the question. She shakes her head, “Nope. I will get all my things.”

The woman smiles. “Thank you, baby girl.”

Quickly Lucy runs off to do as she’s told.

Moments later, a new voice nearly stops her heart. A voice that she hasn’t heard in nearly 7 years, but still causes her knees to weaken, and her cheeks to flush.

“Wow, Shortstack, you’ve barely changed,” Lucas walks into the kitchen, setting his bags down on the tile.

Heart pounding rapidly, Maya replies, “Same goes to you, Ranger Rick.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, but Riley swoops in to hug him. She easily distracts the man from his ex-girlfriend. The brunette badgers him with questions about his time in Texas and his new job here.

Maya almost thinks she’ll be able to sneak out without him noticing, but then her lovely daughter barrels into the room, huge backpack engulfing her tiny body as she yells, “Mommy, I’m ready to go!”

Lucas turns around, looking at the child, then up to the blonde, “Maya, you have a daughter?”

“Yes,” she answers, holding her daughter close to her. She bends down, introducing her little girl, “Lucy, this is Lucas. He’s one of Mommy’s… old friends.”

“Hi,” she sticks her hand out, “Nice to meet you, Lucas.”

Stooping down to her level, he smiles and shakes her tiny hand, “Hi, Lucy. Nice to meet you, too. How old are you?”

“I am five–but I am almost six!” she answers, very excited about her upcoming birthday. “I will be six on May 15th!”

“That’s very soon. I can see why you’re excited.” He looks back up to Maya, then says, “She’s beautiful, looks just like you.”

Somehow, her cheeks flush an even brighter red as she says, “Thank you, Lucas.” She grabs Lucy’s hand, “Let’s go, little bug.”

“Okay!” she says, grinning. “Bye, Lucas! Bye, Auntie Riley and Uncle Farkle!”

Before they head out, Lucas comes up to her, “Maya?”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering, um, maybe–if you’re okay with it? Could we, uh, have dinner sometime? Catch up?” he asks. “But only if you want to!”

Maya is slightly taken aback by the offer, but still finds herself saying, “Sure. Shoot me a message–my number’s still the same.”

He smiles, “Great. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you around,” she replies, then shuffles her daughter out the door.

Once they get outside and head towards the subway, Lucy asks, “Mommy, why is your face so red?”

The woman blushes even more. “Just hot, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

—————————————-—————————————-

“So why didn’t you all tell me that Maya has a kid?” Lucas asks his friends after she leaves.

Farkle shrugs, “It’s not like it really came up in conversation. You didn’t ask about her until today.”

“Is the–is the father in the picture?” he questions. He didn’t even think about her not being single when he asked her to dinner. (Not that this dinner has to be a date, by any means. But he really, really wants it to be a date.)

“No,” Riley answers quickly. She looks uncomfortable as she goes on, “They broke up before she found out she was pregnant. He never found out…”

“Damn,” Lucas replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Every part of him knew Maya would’ve moved on from him, but he never would’ve imagined that she had a child. Hell, based on the age of her daughter, she must’ve moved on almost immediately.

The brunette adds, “Well, she’s doing great. Maya’s a great mom, and Lucy is a great kid.”

“I can imagine,” he comments. Pasting on a fake smile, he changes the subject, “What about you all? The wedding is soon, yeah?”

The couple launches into details about their impending nuptials, but even seeing the immense happiness on their faces isn’t enough to distract his own thoughts.

When his transfer got approved, his first thought was just Maya. Maya is in New York. He’s back in New York. Lucas hoped that things could back to how they were before. Before he left her for a job that he hated.

But Maya has a daughter, a beautiful little girl that is the center of her life. She won’t drop everything to go back to the man that broke her heart. Besides, she may not want him back anyways.

But I still love her, he thinks. I never stopped loving her.

—————————————-—————————————-

“Alright, little bug,” Maya sing songs, brushing out Lucy’s wet hair, “It is definitely bedtime.”

The young girl frowns, “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” she nods, kissing the top of her head, “you have school tomorrow, and Mommy has to work. So, it’s bedtime. Go brush your teeth so I can tuck you in.”

Lucy obliges, running off to the bathroom. While she’s in there, Maya gets a call from an unsaved number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Maya. Can you talk right now?”

Lucas’ voice comes as a slight shock. She hadn’t expected him to contact her so soon. “Oh, hey, Lucas,” she responds after a moment of silence. “I’m getting ready to tuck Lucy in, can you wait a few minutes?”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammers. “I can call you back or–”

“No, no,” she tells him. “It’ll just take a few minutes. Stay on the call, okay?”

He agrees, and Maya leaves her phone on her bed. When she gets to Lucy’s room, she’s already in her bed, waiting patiently.

“Okay, little bug,” she says, taking her seat on the edge of her bed. The blonde starts tucking the blankets up around her daughter, then plants a kiss on her cheek, “I love you, Lucy. Sleep tight, baby girl.”

“I love you, too, Mommy,” Lucy tells her, snuggling into bed.

Maya picks her favorite teddy off the floor, then hands it to her. She gives her one last kiss, saying, “Good night.”

Before she leaves the room she makes sure the night light is on and switches the rest off. When she gets back to her own bedroom, she picks up her phone and asks, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” Lucas answers. “I wanted to… I wanted to know how you were doing? We didn’t really get to talk earlier… And it’s been a long time.”

“I’m good, I guess,” she says, walking out of her bedroom and to the kitchen. If I’m gonna talk to him, I’m pouring myself a glass of wine, she tells herself, grabbing the bottle from the fridge. “I keep busy. I’m still the art teacher at our old middle school, and being a single mom isn’t exactly easy.”

He laughs, “I can imagine she’s a handful. But she seems wonderful, Maya. I can’t get over how much she looks like you. She’s your twin.”

Taking a big gulp from her glass, she says, “Thank you. She’s perfect. I can’t imagine life without her. I didn’t know my life was missing something until she was placed in my arms.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he tells her. “I’ve thought a lot about you.”

Without thinking, she replies, “I’ve thought a lot about you, too, Ranger Rick.”

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. “I figured you hated me.”

Maya takes another sip of her wine. “I could never hate you. You know that.”

Lucas’ deep breath can be heard through the call, “You had every right to.”

“I did,” she agrees, “but I never once hated you.”

It’s not a lie. Even throughout her entire pregnancy, the late night feedings, and the days where she just wanted someone to hold her, Maya never hated Lucas. She couldn’t hate him, he gave her Lucy. But, she had missed him. She would’ve done anything to have him back by her side.

“Do you think we could do dinner this Saturday night?” he asks, “I wasn’t sure if you had a sitter, or if you even wanted to.”

She laughs, “I’d love to. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t five years old, or a middle school student, or a stressed couple planning the wedding of the century.”

“They really are going over the top, aren’t they?” Lucas jokes. The Minkus-Matthews’ wedding won’t be one to miss. “So–Saturday at 6? I’ll text you the address.”

“As long as my sitter is free, I’m in,” she says.

“Great. I’ll let you go now,” he responds. “Bye, Maya.”

“Bye, Lucas,” she says, then ends the call. She downs the rest of her wine, then calls her best friend. As soon as Riley answers, Maya greets with, “I think I just agreed to a date with Lucas Friar.”

—————————————-—————————————-

“Mommy, why do you look so fancy?” Lucy asks, watching her mother carefully apply her nude lipstick.

“I’m going to a fancy dinner, so I have to look fancy,” Maya answers, pouting her lips in the mirror. Naturally, the girl imitates her, causing the woman to chuckle. “Are you excited to spend the night with Nana?”

“Yeah!” she exclaims, bouncing on her heels. “Nana and I are gonna make sketti and meatballs! Then we’re gonna watch a movie!”

“Wow!” she enthuses, pushing a loose curl out of Lucy’s eyes. “It sounds like you all are gonna have so much fun.”

“We will!”

Maya sends her off to put her shoes on, and she slips her heels on herself. Checking her reflection, she smoothes out her dress and checks her hair one last time. She’s wearing a deep red halter dress that hugs her curves, paired with her trusty black pumps. Once she’s ready, she heads out with Lucy in tow.

After she drops Lucy off at her mom’s place (with the promise of having her in bed by 8:30, but Maya knows Katy is a sucker and will let her grandbaby stay up way past her bedtime), she hails a cab to the upscale Italian restaurant. When she arrives, she immediately spots her date, and her knees go wobbly.

Lucas looks good. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, which is Maya’s absolute weakness. She greets him with, “Well, you still clean up pretty well, Cowboy.”

“Thanks, Shortstack,” He grins, looking her up and down, “You look gorgeous, Maya.”

Her heart feels like it could burst out of her chest, but she tries to ignore the feeling. “Thank you, Lucas.”

Their hands brush together as they walk into the restaurant, but they both pull away quickly, blushing.

(Maya hopes her blush isn’t as bad as she believes it is, because she feels as red as her dress at the moment.)

(Lucas thinks the exact same thing as he gives his name for the reservation.)

They’re taken to a secluded table near the back. “Enjoy your dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Friar,” comments the hostess.

Maya wants to correct her, but she decides to keep her mouth shut. Once she’s out of earshot, she laughs, “Awkward.”

The man chuckles in agreement, grabbing the wine list, “Red or white?”

“Hmm,” she ponders, tapping her chin in thought. “Red.”

When the waiter arrives, he orders a whole bottle of Cabernet for the two of them– the price nearly makes her faint, but he doesn’t seem phased. Before the wine even makes it to the table, Lucas apologizes, “Can I just go ahead and say I’m sorry? Because I am so sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” she responds, busying her hands with the dinner napkin in her lap. She can only imagine where this conversation will go.

He lets out a deep sigh, “For being so stupid all those years ago. I never should’ve accepted the job offer without talking to you first.”

The blonde says, “It’s okay, Lucas. The past is the past. It’s not like we can go back and change it. I’ve gotten over it.” No I haven’t, she thinks.

“I wish I could,” he admits, rubbing his hands together. “You know, I ended up hating that job. Biggest regret of my life.”

Sensing his distress, Maya reaches across the table to grab his hand. Instantly, she feels him relax. She tells him, “We’ve all made mistakes, even me. We’re only human.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think your mistakes led to losing the love of your life,” he comments, rubbing his thumb across her hand.

My mistake led to our daughter growing up without a father, she thinks, but doesn’t voice. There’s a time and place for that conversation, and it’s definitely not right here, right now. “Well,” she starts, “I’m here now, right?”

He nods, “Yes.”

“So you didn’t completely lose me,” she points out. “I could’ve turned down this offer. I have lots of shows I could be catching up on right now. There are plenty of medical dramas waiting for me to binge.”

Lucas laughs a true laugh. It’s a sound she’s missed so much, something she’s wanted to hear again. “Thank you for coming, then.”

“You’re welcome,” she responds. “Okay, so it’s been almost seven years. A lot can happen in that much time…”

“Yeah, like you having a daughter. I can’t believe you have a kid,” he teases, then quickly adds, “Not that it’s a bad thing, by any means. She’s adorable, I’m just still shocked, to be honest.”

Maya fakes a chuckle. If only you knew she was yours, she thinks. “She’s wonderful. I may be biased, but she’s the smartest almost six year old I’ve ever met. I put her into kindergarten when she was four–even though everyone told me she was too young–and her teacher said she’s ahead of most of her classmates. So they’re pretty sure she’ll be offered a spot in the accelerated program in few years, but there’s no guarantee–” then she stops and throws her hands up, saying, “Oh god, I’m rambling about my kid. I’m being the worst date right now.”

This time, Lucas grabs her hand to calm her down. “It’s fine,” he laughs. “At least you have something to talk about. I have nothing.”

“I’m sure you did something interesting in the past seven years.”

“Nope. Nothing.”

“Seriously?” she asks, “No crazy vet stories? Crazy farm stories? Crazy date stories?”

He chuckles at the last question. “I had a woman bring me her duck that was actually a chicken. I didn’t live on a farm, my apartment was downtown. Definitely no memorable dates.”

The wine arrives and the server takes their order. Once he leaves, Maya takes a sip of her wine and says, “So no dates, huh?”

Shaking his head, he replies, “There were dates, but nothing special. No one made it past the third date.”

“Hmm,” she hums, taking another drink.

“Have you dated anyone?” he asks, then realizes his mistake. “Shit–you have a kid. I’m an idiot.”

Yes, Lucas, you are an idiot because you haven’t even realized that she’s yours! she thinks. You went to school for eight years to become a veterinarian yet you can’t do the math to realize you’re the father!

“I’ve done the same as you, really,” she says, and it’s the truth. There were a few men, and one woman, but nothing worked out. “I’ve always been focused on Lucy, so I haven’t worried much about dating.”

He takes a moment to refill her empty wine glass, then says, “If you don’t mind me asking, why isn’t Lucy’s dad in the picture?”

“I never told him I was pregnant,” she answers too quickly.

“Riley told me that much, but why didn’t you tell him?” he quizzes curiously, sipping from his own glass.

Avoiding eye contact, she says, “I–Uh, can we not talk about that right now?” Immediately, he goes in for the apology, but she interrupts him, “Don’t be sorry, it’s just not my favorite thing to talk about.”

“Understandably so,” he agrees. The Texan turns the conversation around, “Tell me about your job. I know you’re at our old school…”

The rest of their date goes by without a hitch. They talk without asking the wrong questions, enjoy a great meal, and leave together–nearly drunk after purchasing a second bottle of wine.

(“The amount of money you spent on this meal would make my bank account cry,” she comments as he signs the bill.

He just waves it off, tipping the server substantially for dealing with them.)

“Come back to my place with me,” she offers, stumbling against him as he attempts to hail a cab. “Lucy is with my mom. Staying all night.”

He takes a moment to respond, making her think he’s going to say no. However, he eventually agrees, “Okay,” leading her into the cab.

The entire ride to her place Maya stays pressed against his side, while Lucas keeps a hand on her thigh. The touch is enough to bring goosebumps to her skin and heat up her cheeks.

Once they arrive to their destination, she leads him up to her apartment. Before she can even get her key, he has her pressed against the door and they’re kissing.

It’s hot and heavy, as if years of being apart has built up to this very moment. Perched on her tiptoes to reach, her fingers find their way to his hair. He tastes like red wine, and still smells the same as he did seven years ago.

Breaking apart to breathe, they rest their foreheads against each other. The first to break the silence is Lucas. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you in that dress,” he discloses, caressing her cheek. “You look so fuckin’ hot in it. But, you know what?”

“What?” she says, breathing heavily.

“It’d look better on the floor,” he says, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“That’s the most god awful thing you’ve ever said,” she says, unlocking the door. “But it was kinda hot.” Dragging him by the tie, she takes him to her bedroom. She turns around, “Unzip me.”

“Gladly,” he obliges, taking his sweet time and admiring the view, running his knuckles down her spine. While she slips her dress and heels off, Lucas sheds his suit jacket and shirt.

“You still have way too much clothes on,” she comments, reaching for his belt. She removes it, throwing it carelessly. As she goes to unbutton his slacks, he stops her.

“Are you sure we should be moving this fast?” he asks seriously. “We had a really messy break up and I don’t want to fuck up our relationship aga–“

“Lucas, I want you to fuck me,” she states, “Right now.”

He crashes his lips onto hers, then says, “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

—————————————-—————————————-

The next morning Maya wakes up with a terrible headache and a worse feeling in her heart. She had sex with Lucas last night (absolutely amazing sex, but that’s beside the point), but she still hasn’t told him about Lucy. The guilt is tearing her up inside as she watches Lucas sleep, snoring quietly.

I’m about to ruin everything, she muses. Once the truth is out, he’ll never forgive me.

Maya rests her head against his bare chest, aimlessly running her fingers up and down his torso. Slowly he stirs, wrapping his arm around her to hold her close.

“G’morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her hair. When she doesn’t respond, he asks, “You okay, Maya?”

“Yeah–well, no, not really.” She sighs, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s up?” he asks, nonchalant. His fingers are threaded through her hair, playing with the golden strands. Just like he would all those years ago.

“Have you thought about how old Lucy is?” she asks.

“Five but almost six,” he answers, quoting the child, “Her birthday is coming up, May 15th, yeah?”

“Right. Now, when did you move to Austin?”

“September will mark seven years. But, Maya, what does that have to do–” then he stops. His fingers still in her hair, and that’s how she knows he’s figured it out. “Wait, is she, y’know, mine? I’m her…”

Nodding slowly, Maya finishes his thought for him, “Yeah, you’re her father, Lucas.”

For a few moments, they lay there. No one says anything, they just think. When he finally breaks the silence, Lucas sits up in bed and asks, “Did you find out you were pregnant before or after I left?”

“Before. I thought I may have been for about a week before you left, and I took six pregnancy tests to confirm it. I’d bought a little yellow onesie that said I love Daddy! to surprise you with. I was so excited, Lucas. My life was finally falling together. I had a good job, great friends, an amazing boyfriend, and as crazy as it sounds, I was so happy to find out I was pregnant. Yeah, she wasn’t planned, we weren’t married, hell, we weren’t even engaged. It was okay, though, because we were happy. So happy. Except everything changed when you came over and dropped a bomb on me.” Maya pauses to breathe, wiping away a tear that’s threatening to escape.

As she continues, her voice begins to falter, “I didn’t tell you, then you left. I went through the entire pregnancy alone, save for my mom and Riley. Morning sickness, weird cravings, the first kicks, and swollen ankles. All of it, by myself. It was so difficult. There were days that I just stayed home and cried my bed all day, wishing you were there with me. God, I just wanted you to come back. There were nights that I was going to call, but then I remembered what I said. ‘If you actually leave, then we’re done.’ And you left me. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t. I never could, because I loved you too much.”

Once the words leave her mouth, she feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She’s waiting for Lucas to scream and yell at her. She’s preparing herself for him to blow up, but that’s not what he does.

The first thing he says is, “God, Maya, I wish you would’ve told me. There is no job in the entire world that is more important that you and our daughter.” He pauses, then repeats himself. “Our daughter. We have a daughter…”

“Yeah, Lucas, we have a daughter. She’s perfect, so smart, and the most important thing to me,” Maya says, tears dripping down her face. “I wish I wasn’t so stupid. I should have told you sooner. You missed almost six years.”

He replies, “If I would’ve known, I would have dropped that job in a heartbeat. Being a father is so much more important than some job. I would have loved to watch Lucy grow up. And I would’ve been there for you, Maya. Every craving, doctor’s appointment, anytime you cried. I could’ve been there if you would have just told me.” He takes her hand back into his, softly rubbing circles on it.  

“I know,” she admits. “It was selfish of me to keep this from you. Lucy deserves to know her dad, and you deserve to know your daughter.”

“Can I, then? Get to know her?” Lucas asks, a hopeful gleam in his green eyes.

The woman gives him a small smile, “Of course you can. I won’t keep her from you anymore, promise.”

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Can you tell me more about what I missed? Like, when she was a baby?”

Grinning, Maya starts, “She was such a good baby. She was always super happy, but had to be held at all times. If you put her down, you’d get an earful. I had to put her in a sling on my chest in order to get anything done…”

—————————————-—————————————-

Minutes turn into hours as Maya catches Lucas up on his daughter’s life. He’s full of questions, and she’s (mostly) full of answers. He learns about all the firsts in Lucy’s life.

(“First word?”

“No. Also her favorite word.”

“First Halloween?”

“A pumpkin. She spit up all over the costume.”)

When stories aren’t enough, Maya shows him pictures. She shows him her favorites, Lucy dressed up on her first Christmas with a bow wrapped around her little head, her first finger painting experience, and her first day of Kindergarten. With each missed memory, Lucas laughs, smiles, even cries a bit.

After seeing pictures of Lucy over the years, he asks, “When can we tell her?”

Maya pauses, “That you’re her dad? We could tell her soon…”

“How about… tonight?” Lucas proposes, “I’ve already missed enough time, Maya. I really want to be in my daughter’s life.”

The suggestion doesn’t come as much of a shock. Maya knew he’d want to tell Lucy soon, but she didn’t expect tonight. “Well…”

“I can take you all out tonight,” he suggests. “Dinner, on me. We could tell her after?”

She ponders on his offer. Though it’s sooner than she’d anticipate, it wouldn’t be a bad idea. “Okay,” she answers, then adds, “but you have to let me take the lead. I don’t want to shock her too much.”

“Deal.” Lucas grins, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much, Maya, for letting me become involved in her life. You really have no reason to let me in after what I did to you.”

She smiles, then pecks him on the lips. “It’s the least I can do. She’s just as much yours as she is mine. You have every right to be in her life. I’m sorry I kept you away before.”

“Stop apologizing, the past is the past. I’m ready to focus on the future,” he tells her, taking her hands into his. “Speaking of the future, what about our future?”

“What about it?”

“C’mon, Maya, you know what I mean. Last night was amazing.”

“It was,” she agrees. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything. We’d been drinking.”

He sighs, then replies, “But it did mean something to me, Maya. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I stepped off the plane into New York. If–if you want to, I want to be with you. Again.”

She knew this would come eventually. But it came sooner than she expected. “Lucas…” she trails off, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“We can try,” he offers, squeezing her hand in his. “We can try to have a relationship, and if it doesn’t work, then we’ll just be friends.”

Maya stays quiet for a moment, thinking. She wants to be with him, she really does. However, Lucas left her once before, he could surely do it again.

But at the same time, he knows about Lucy now. He seems so excited to be a dad, and be there for them. And, God, did she miss him. So many times, she has wished to be in his arms again, feel his kiss, hold his hand. Now she’s being given that opportunity again. That’s why she says: “Okay, let’s do it.”

Lucas grins, then dives in to kiss her. “You won’t regret this, I promise,” he says, holding her close.

Maya smiles, feeling happier than she has in a long, long time.

—————————————-—————————————-

Later that night, Maya finds herself shaking as she attempts to braid Lucy’s hair into two plaits. It’s about an hour before they plan to meet Lucas for dinner, and she hasn’t felt this nervous to do something since she was in labor, about to give birth and change her life forever.

“Ow!” Lucy shrieks when Maya accidentally tugs her hair too hard. “You hurt my head, Mommy.”

She kisses the little girl’s head, apologizing, “Sorry, baby, but we’re all done now.” She puts the finishing touches on Lucy’s hair, adding tiny bows to the end of each plait.

Lucy hops out of the kitchen chair, twirling in her dress. “Do I look pretty, Mommy?” she asks, batting her long eyelashes.

“You look beautiful, little bug,” Maya answers. Since it’s a special occasion, she let her wear her favorite pink dress. It was a gift from Riley, and cost more than someone should spend on a dress that’s somehow going to get paint and dirt on it within an hour. It never fails to amaze Maya how fast an outfit can get destroyed by a five year old.

Just as she finishes getting ready herself, Maya hears a knock at her apartment door. She goes to let Lucas in, and even in just jeans and polo, he looks good. “Hi, cowboy,” she greets, pecking him on the cheek before Lucy can see.

“Shortstack, long time no see,” he jokes, stepping into the small apartment. It’d only been a few hours since he’d left, just enough time for Maya to pick up Lucy from her mom’s apartment and get her ready.

“Ha-hur,” she teases with a wink. She calls for her daughter, “Lucy! Are you ready to go?”

The tiny blonde comes barreling into the room, knocking into her mother like usual. “Hi, Lucas,” she says, waving.

“Hi, Miss Lucy,” he tells her, stooping down to her level. “Are you excited for us to go to dinner?” She aggressively nods her head, beaming at him. “Well, we better head out!”

Quickly, Maya grabs her bag, and they head out to hail a cab, Lucas giving directions to the kid-friendly restaurant he picked out for dinner.

The whole ride there, Lucy talks up a storm. She tells Lucas all about her first grade teacher, friends, and even about the class goldfish.

(“His name is Rocko,” Lucy tells him, grinning widely. “I helped pick his name!”)

Once they enter the restaurant and get seated and order their food, Maya gives Lucas the look. Go time.

“Lucy, hon,” Maya starts, getting her daughter’s attention. “Mommy wants to talk to you, can you listen for a few minutes?”

The little girl immediately pauses her coloring on the kid’s menu. “Okay, Mommy.”

Maya takes a deep breath, and then feels Lucas grab her hand beneath the table. She smiles briefly at him, then says, “You know how your friends have a Mommy and a Daddy?”

“Not all my friends,” Lucy replies smartly, “Jamie has two mommies!”

The two adults laugh. “Yes,” Maya replies, “some people have a Mommy and a Daddy, or two Mommies or two Daddies.”

“But I only have a Mommy,” she says. “You always said I don’t have a Daddy.”

Maya’s heart breaks a little. “Well, Lucy, you actually do have a Daddy…” her voice starts to shake as she finally gets the words out, “you see, honey, Lucas is your Daddy.”

“Really?” Lucy asks, eyes lighting up. “I have a Daddy? Can I call you Daddy?”

She catches Lucas wiping away a stray tear before grinning, answering, “I would love it if you called me Daddy, Lucy, Only if you want to.”

The little girl beams, “Okay, Daddy. I want to.”

When Lucy was born, Maya never would have imagined that she would hear her daughter call Lucas her dad. She thought it would never happen after the way she left things with Lucas. However, years later, she’s hearing just that, and it is music to her ears.

“Lucy, I do have a question for you,” Lucas says, and Maya is unsure of what is to follow. “If it is okay with you, I want to spend more time with you and your Mommy. Would you like that?”

“Hmmm,” Lucy thinks, “I would like that. May I please color now?”

Maya snorts, only her daughter would be more concerned with drawing than finding out about her father. Typical five year old. “Yes, Lucy. You can color.”

While their daughter turns back to her art, Lucas turns to her, “Well, that went well.”

“As well as we could expect,” Maya answers, leaning her head onto Lucas’ shoulder. “You know, you’re a parent now. Your life is about to change forever.”

“Correct, Shortstack: We��re parents. Bring it on.”

“Challenge accepted, Huckleberry.”

[queerbloodyangel]

Hi! I haven’t seen the magicians and probably won’t but I’m interested in the drama/what’s going on?

oof sorry this has taken me so long anon, i havent been home much today and am just now getting time to sit down! i hope you don’t mind that i’m writing out a long thing, because quite a few people have asked me about it and tbh i just want to get it all down :)

so, little bit of backstory here: quentin coldwater is the main character of the magicians. the first episode of the show has him being released from a mental facility after he had checked himself in because he was “getting bad again”. after the doctor expressed concern for his well-being and said she wasnt sure he should be checking himself out so soon. he told her the only way she could stop him was if he said he had any plans of hurting others or himself, which, he didnt.

throughout the course of the show, the writers did an amazing job of showing quentin actually dealing with and talking about his depression. we saw him at his highs, and we saw him at his lows, and for a lot of people who have never seen depression depicted in such a real and non-romanticized way onscreen, it was revolutionary. i mean, it still is, some of the discussions he had with his friends about it were so fucking real that they had me in tears because yeah thats it.

anyway, along with that, quentin also was proven to be sexually fluid first in season 1 by having a threesome with two of his best friends margo and eliot. he also dated a woman (alice) for a while, though that relationship went up in spectacular flames lmao

in season 3, quentin and eliot get stuck in an alternate timeline together for 50 years. during that time quentin met a woman and had a child with her, but shortly after she died, and quentin and eliot raised the kid together, and stayed together until eliot died. time got reversed then, but because Magic, they both remembered what happened shortly after, in a quiet scene with just the two of them, because the taste of ‘peaches and plums’ reminded them, because they had lived near a peach and plum orchard in the alternate timeline. nothing more was said about it after that, though quentin and eliot remained extremely affectionate with each other.

at the end of season 3, and going into season 4, eliot gets possessed by a monster thats more powerful than any of the gods on the show, and completely unkillable. the monster also has an incredibly childlike mentality, so at one point quentin asks it if eliot’s still alive, and the monster says no. since up until that point the monster has been truthful to a fault, quentin believes it. 

episode 5 happens, and quentin and his ex, alice, are figuring out a way to kill the monster. during this period of time, quentin makes it very clear to alice that he has absolutely no desire to get back together with her, and with all of the shit going on with the monster/eliot, he doesnt even have the space to even think about them. meanwhile, eliots trapped inside his own mind, going through all of his worst memories trying to figure out a way to get out long enough to tell his friends that he is alive, and needs help. he goes through a ton of bad memories, including ones about his childhood growing up in a homophobic small town in indiana, ones involving betraying his friends, and basically anything else he can come up with. 

he realizes eventually what his worst memory is, and we go back to the scene from season 3 where he and quentin remember the alternate timeline. quentin asks eliot if they can give them a shot, because ‘we work. 50 years, who gets proof of concept like that?’ and memory!eliot turns him down. the real eliot apologizes to memory!quentin, kisses him, and he’s able to take control of his body long enough to tell quentin (eliot: 50 years, who gets proof of concept like that?

quentin: what?

eliot: peaches and plums, motherfucker, i’m alive in here)

quentin then jumps in front of eliot so alice’s attempt to kill his body misses, and the monster comes back. 

from that point on, quentin’s sole focus is getting eliot back. he sleeps once on screen, for a total of 15 minutes. he’s jumpy, on edge, exhausted, and clearly spiraling as it becomes more and more apparent there might not be a way for him to save eliot. up until episode 10, not a scene goes by without quentin reiterating that they have to save eliot, no matter what.

episodes 11 & 12 happen, and (if memory serves me correctly) quentin says eliots name once, maybe twice. he gets back with alice, and suddenly, is no longer spiraling (????) its as if eliot doesnt even exist.

episode 13 happens, they manage to get the monster out of eliot, and quentin doesn’t even spare a glance towards eliot, who’s lying on the ground bleeding out and need to be rushed to the hospital. quentin and alice have found a way to trap the monster in a rip in the universe, and take off to do that. things happen that make 0 sense, and winds up jumping into this rip in the universe along with the monster, and dies.

after his death, he winds up in the underworld, talking to someone, where he asks, “did i do that to save my friends, or did i finally find a way to kill myself?”

the person takes him back to earth, so quentin can watch his friends mourn him. instead of letting his friends actually talk about him, the writers had them sing a song as they threw their mementos of quentin into a fire, and that?? somehow shows quentin that his death was okay.

the writers (sera gamble and john mcnamara) are acting like they deserve an award or something because they killed off the ‘white male lead’, which, apparently is progressive or something. as if tv show writers haven’t been killing off mentally ill, queer characters for decades already. 

the writers didn’t tell the rest of the cast what was happening, until two days before the finale aired. the actor who played quentin (jason ralph) was under a gag order for a year, and they filmed a dummy scene at the end that had the gang realizing there was a way for quentin to be saved.

the actor who played eliot (hale appleman), an openly queer man, spent the last several weeks reassuring fans over and over that quentin and eliot’s story wasn’t over, to have faith, only to find out that he’d unwillingly been a part in this whole fiasco.

they killed off the character that honestly, probably 90% of the fanbase saw themselves in, and had latched onto with their whole hearts because of that. for a lot of us, it felt like watching a bit of ourselves die, and along with it, a love story that deserved to be told, that a lot of us believed would be told. i, personally have watched so many shows where the writers absolutely refused to make the ‘popular gay ship’ canon, and have even been part of fanbases that have been mocked for it. but this just. this shit is on a different level and i dont know what to even call it except for some bizarre take on queerbaiting that’s somehow 10000000x worse than that word can even describe.

again, i’m sorry this is so godawful long but i’m truly devastated over losing quentin coldwater. queer people deserve better, mentally ill people deserve better, and god fucking damn it so do i.

[okase]

DnD Character Questions: Zephrine

B/c my friend’s gone and done these and they looked fun. Original questions is here

1) What is their full name, and does it have any special relevance? Alternatively, what nicknames do they have?

Zephrine Auclair is her full name, as far as she’s concerned. Her actual full name is unknown to her though she’s aware at least that Auclair isn’t the surname she was born with. Adopted and all that.

As for nicknames, Zeph is a shorthand she’s okay with, and her stage persona when she was a performer was very creatively named Zephyra. 2) What hobby would they like to be good at?

Cooking, or sewing. Probably sewing a little more than cooking, since she’s at least somewhat passable at cooking. Also, gardening. She loves plants and flowers but doesn’t quite have the green thumb that her mother does. 3) If they played dnd what race and class would they pick?

A gnome Beastmaster ranger or Circle of the Shepherd druid. She’d want to be something completely different from what she is or can turn into in real life. Also, she’s always wanted healing abilities and loves animals(most of them) so she would want either one really close animal companion or as many animal friends as she could possibly make. She would also inevitably get really distraught when something happened to said animal friends. 4) If they could go back in time and change one thing, what would they change?

She would have left the circus to travel with Therila sooner. Even though it’s not really her fault, Zeph still feels an incredible amount of guilt for getting her girlfriend into the situation she’s in. She feels if she’d followed her heart and been less indecisive, she could have saved Therila a lot of hardship.

That said, Zeph has grown very attached to her new friends she’s met, so that would make changing things hard. There’s several things she wants to help them with and the idea of not being able to help wouldn’t sit well with her. Zeph would feel like she was abandoning her new friends for Therila.

She’d still change things, if she could, because she would want to spare Therila what she’s been through, but it would be with a heavy heart. If she could find a way to have it both ways, she’d do it in an instant. 5) What is their favourite weapon to wield?

Her magique. She has a dagger and a quarterstaff, but neither of those has really felt “right” for her, nor have they been particularly useful. Her magic, though, is not only incredibly useful and versatile, but more importantly it’s a part of her. Not only, that, it’s a part of her that she loves. Zeph gets frustrated at her inability to tap into it, or control it, but she’s never felt negatively towards her magic itself. Because when she gets it right, she feels powerful, incredible, even celestial. It feels right, and it feels good.

6) If you could behove them one magical item, what would you give them?

Robes of Self Confidence! Ring of Decisiveness. Underwear of Stop Doubting Yourself and Be More Assertive.

Or, idk. Boosting her charisma further would be nice, I guess??? I don’t know enough about dnd magical items. Also some of the stuff she has is already pretty sweet so I can’t complain. (She has a cloak that can let her turn into a raven for an hour! It’s baller.) 7) If they didn’t have to adventure, would they stop?

No. She’s gotten a taste for blood now. Nothing can stop her.

Jk, but still no because she’s kind of found her calling in it. She gets to help people, and wants to continue doing so until she finds a better way to help people that maybe involves less murder and nearly dying all the time. 8) What do they look for in a platonic or romantic partner?

Passion, and compassion. A strong moral compass and the courage to not only adhere to it, but stand up for it as well. A sense of humor and some self-confidence doesn’t hurt, either.

Also, it’s not a thing she consciously looks for, but one thing that all of her previous partners have in common is that they are/were all very assertive people. Make of that what you will lmao 9) Do they trust easily? Yes and no. When she was younger, I would say yes without a doubt, but she’s put her trust in the wrong people more than a few times throughout the years and I think that’s made her wiser than she lets on.

I think the best way to describe it is that, if she hasn’t been given reason not to, she’s willing to give people a chance and will put herself out there even knowing it could end badly. She’s been hurt enough times to believe it’s a risk, but she believes in people as a whole enough to also believe it’s a risk worth taking. She’ll believe in you until you give her reason not to.

10) What is their favourite colour?

Blues and greens tend to be her favorite, so I’ll go halfway and say blue-green. Robin’s egg blue.

She also likes bright yellow. Just, not on her. 11) Diplomatic or aggressive?

I’m gonna say diplomatic, but I think it would be more accurate to say she was manipulative than truly compromising like diplomacy tends to imply. She’s aggressive about her morals, but I don’t think I’d call her aggressive overall, and she’s definitely not the punchy sort. She definitely prefers non-violent solutions to problems and disagreements. Unless you’re an utter monster but I’m not sure that counts. 12) They get arrested, and thrown in jail, how do they escape?

Probably most likely to talk herself out of jail. If she’d been put in there unjustly, she’d try and prove it. If she was there justly, she’d try and suggest alternate ways she could serve whatever sentence she’s been given, or if her sentence was pretty minimal and none of her friends were in danger, she’d just serve it.

If talking didn’t work, she’d try and get a guard close enough to incapacitate them, which she would do via hold person or fire + hot metal prison bars. Get the keys, go from there. Or if there was a window, she’d see if there was a way to climb out that way. 13) Would they leave their party for any reason?

Currently and for the short-term future, she would only leave if they would no longer have her. She’s rather attached on a personal level, and beyond that, they’ve done a lot for her and she feels it’s only right to do a lot for them in return.

The only way other than that would be for them to do something really morally reprehensible, but I can’t really see them doing something bad enough for her to just up and leave. 14) If they could own any creature as a pet, what would they have? 

A GRIFFIN. Or she would, if they didn’t eat horses at best and people at worst.

More realistically, she’d probably like to have some sort of fat lil’ songbird, provided she didn’t have to keep it in a cage. If not a bird, a rabbit or a guinea pig would also do.

15) How have you influenced your characters personality?

Unfortunately my stupidity and inability to tell a coherent story for the life of me has been inflicted upon Zephrine. She can be kinda ditzy lol

Also my temper, a bit.  But also my desire to do good and my love of the arts and also pretty things!

Oh, but also my anxiety. I’m SORRY Zephrine lmao 16) Do they have any tattoos? If so what? If not, do you think they would get one in the future?

Nope, and no.  She appreciates them on other people,  but they're not really for her.

The Tiamat mark on her arm doesn’t count. 17) Where would they like to be in ten years time?

Alive, surrounded by friends and making the world a better place. She’s found love and managed to keep it. Therila is safe and happy, her friends are safe and happy. Her mother isn’t alone when Zeph isn’t there, and is content. Zeph travels a lot, be it with her partner, her friends, or both, righting the wrongs of the world, changing things for the better and helping others along the way. They travel, but they always have a home they can return to when they need to catch their breath. Ideally in the more literal, physical sense- in which case there needs to be flowers, and lots of them- but the metaphorical sense works, too. She’s found her calling, her purpose in life and she’s able to guide others to theirs, as well. The world has less suffering in it than it did before and it feels like she’s able to make a difference.

Zephrine knows that’s probably not realistic, and she knows that life never really goes the way you want or plan, but she’s certainly going to try and make things reality where she can. She’s gonna at least make an effort.

18) What do they look like? Either description or picture.

She looks like if a dragon and a disney princess had a baby together.

And if I’m feeling more descriptive, I’d say she’s got shiny brass scales and the rounded brass dragon crest to match, big orangey-brown eyes with some yellow towards the pupils. She’s got a ‘3’ mouth, kinda like a python. It’s very cute.

Body-wise, she’s built like a ballerina, with legs for days and a lean musculature. She’s got slightly broad shoulders, kinda narrow hips, and a tail that she has to lift slightly at the end so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The end of it kinda looks like a giant leaf. She also has small, useless dragon wings that are either cute or creepy depending on who you ask.

Clothes-wise and just in general, she’s very meticulous about hygiene and just as meticulous about her appearance. She doesn’t have the excessive ruffles and lace and gemstones of someone upper class, but everything she wears tends to be colorful and chosen very carefully. She tends to be a fan of bishop/peasant sleeves and either A-line dresses or long, flowy tunics. She’s also big on putting in little details, like a fancy belt buckle or some really nice boots. She’s very fashion-conscientious but not completely impractical.

19) What genre of music would they be into?

Zeph appreciates all types of music and that would be no different if she had access to our stuff. From rap to metal to bluegrass, she’ll pick bits of anything, but her favorites would likely be dance mixes of upbeat pop songs, or something with synthpop. Or funk/r&b??? Something she can either dance to or something indulgently sad she can listen to while languidly lounging and being dramatic and morose. Depends on her mood. 20) What would be the worst thing someone could say to them?

“I hear dragons hoard things like gems and weapons and armor. I think your hoard might be failed relationships and promises you can’t keep!”

Basically anything along the lines of: You really should stop trying; You don’t know what you’re doing; You’re just a hindrance; You’re not actually helping people; Why are you trying to help others when you can’t even sort out your own problems, etc.

Imply or outright state that she just causes trouble for other people, especially if it’s something she can’t refute. Poke her right in the insecurity.