#i still stand by this post bc i think it’s interesting to think about but like. whatever

[fluffypotatey]

Skill issue maybe. But kindness certainly didn't help the prosecuted for the rest of the show.

Maybe a balance is needed between me being proactive and merlin being kind, bc merlin sure needed a bit of the former (this is really more of a complaint for the showrunners rather than merlin. I read so many fics of merlin being proactive and helping magic that canon is slap in the face with his passivity and class traitorness)

yeah Merlin’s approach to certain issues definitely show the writers’/showrunners’ hands than his actual character (where he is pretty outspoken in these topics) but there’s also the nuance of keeping his magic secret and yada yada

but also, one of the reasons we like Merlin is because of his goodness and open-mind. there is a reason he is a foil to Morgana, who was proactive in magic users rights, had an identity crisis of her own, and descended into villain-hood. there is a reason why his struggle between his duty as Emrys and Destiny is so compelling and how it slowly become his struggle between Destiny and Arthur

are there moments where i wish Merlin did certain actions differently? 100% yes i do (2x08 for example and his relationship with Morgana) and i know a lot of the time these narrative choices were made in order to keep Merlin in his 5 season struggle of ideologies by the showrunners themselves which just hurt his character in the long run (similar to how they revert Arthur’s character back to his s1 caricature sometimes 🙄) bc if he progressed too “quickly” then it could lead to a different outcome than they wanted at the end of the show

but i digress

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

said this to a friend before so apologies for being tacky by repeating myself but consider the doctor's discomfort with being placed in Man as a category as less of a refusal of gender than a refusal of adulthood

because thats what it is, right? the doctor's always been vaguely not-a-man in the same way and maybe sometimes in the same breath as they are vaguely not-a-human and also purposefully childish

Man and Woman are adult categories. you get to be in them by performing gender the right way, but also by being mature. and when youre in them you get a certain amount of respect for being Man or Woman, the respect of doing gender right PLUS being an adult right. degendering and infantilisation and dehumanisation often happen like, together, right?

i think the doctor's refusal of being put in a category of Man is about that maturity thing a lot more than it is about gender. i think the doctor has actual thoughts and feelings about adulthood, or maturity, or Whatever, about Being A Child and Being A Not-Child and Being Not A Child and Not Being A Child. i think they have ACTUAL opinions on that whereas they havent given gender more than a sideways glance. i think it makes a lot more sense and is a lot more true to the text to interpret their statements about manhood through that lense than anything to do with gender

theyre a lot more of a posterboy for children's rights than a posterboy for nonbinariness and i like them way better that way too. if they met a nonbinary person they'd not be surprised or confused it'd not be a deal to them but also i dont believe they'd relate it to themselves at all. when they meet children they do relate, they do place themselves in the same spot, they are on the children's side.

[caruliaa]

whoever created the idea tht associating tswift songs with atla is cringe didnt consider several things. main one being tht its based and fun.

[monochromelullaby]

Oh, another random note about how I run this blog - I don't distinguish between the pokepasta sources and the fnf mods when tagging! This is partially bc at this point it is Very hard to really separate them out, at least for me.

However, when I hc for them I will approach from the pov of the source + whatever interpretations I have for it, so if they aren't fnf-specific (eg Grey or Carmine) assume they're meant to stick to the original pokepasta's roots! As much as I stick to them anyways.... xD

[kings-highway]

pre-relationship bullshit haikyuu teams probably had to put up with before various ships managed to get their shit together

daisuga probably was really annoying with like small/petty jealousy, like a girl would hit on one of them and the other would be standing behind their back making faces about it and mocking it and everyone else on the team just has to put up with it. and then theyre all overly sweet to each other to make up for the petty jealousy or some odd version of "winning them back" after the flirting event and the team is rolling their eyes *so hard*

i think asanoya is so annoying bc nobody can convince Asahi that Noya likes him. Like full stop. Eventually someone pulls him aside and is point blank like "Noya said he has a crush on you ask him out" and Asahi is just like: "Haha he was probably joking" and just leaves the scene. Like the absolute refusal to believe it from Asahi combined with Noya's classic teen boy inability to be sincere means that even after theyve both been told they somehow still havent gotten together??? how long is this going to take???

tsukkiyama probably ruins everyone's week the week before they get together bc one of them *saw* a confession letter stuck into the other's bag and absolutely went (emotionally) off the rails for the days leading up to them discovering it was for them.

I am fully of the camp that iwaoi start dating before they label it/make it official so the whole team is screaming like "PLEASE HAVE A CONVERSATION ABOUT IT" meanwhile Oikawa is saying "we just went on a few dates and kissed a few times it doesnt mean anything" and Iwa is in the background shouting "yeah I dont wanna be anyone's boyfriend that's lame" and then they wander off to go eat dinner together holding hands and the team is left in frustration because ALL they talk about is how theyre *not* in a relationship.

for bokuaka its mostly just Bokuto pestering every goddamn person he knows for like 4 months asking "do you think Akaashi likes me?" or "do you think he'd say yes if I asked him out?" and then one day making Konoha *snap* when he says "I need to tell you a secret" and the secret is that he has a crush on Akaashi as if nobody had known that

with ushiten I imagine Tendou was probably really obvious with his crush/interest but in like a very casual "not taking myself too seriously" kind of way so he's comfortable openly flirting, and Ushijima, against everyone's expectations, doesnt seem to mind the attention but is still who he is, so the whole team just has to put up with the most INSANE interactions. Like Tendou walks into the locker room and cat calls him and Ushijima just replies with a formal "thank you" and Semi is contemplating slamming his head in a locker. There's like 12 months of this.

okay okay but I think arankita is *very classic* in that Aran compensates for his crush by over-supporting Kita. so like the whole team gets super annoyed bc Aran wont risk disagreeing with him, is always offering to do extra work, is generally just sucking-up really badly and the twins suffer the most for this bc Aran used to just ignore their antics but now he's super annoyingly on them all the time to try and impress Kita

kuroken is a little different. Yaku asks Kuroo every single day if he's asked Kenma out yet. Lev asks Kenma if he has a crush on Kuroo every chance he gets. Fukunaga gives them a wink when they leave practice to walk home together. This is the only pairing in which the team is the irritant pre-relationship and then post-relationship everyone loses interest and moves on.

I'd include kagehina but once again the entire goddamn show is everyone putting up with them flirting so whats the point.

[st4rbwrry]

𝒞𝑅𝒜𝒵𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: sukuna can’t accept that you’ve moved on. thinks you just need some dick to remind you where home is. ;)

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded. dilf!sukuna, fluff + smut duh, jealousy, sukuna's a cheater n we're dumb, daddy kink, body worship, choking, body worship, dry humping if you squint, consensual coercion, cum play, toxic relationship, sneaky sex, minors aren't welcomed!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱; this is very old, originally a self ship but i just wanted to post it bc i have a lot of old fics sitting in the drafts etc.

sukuna clenches his jaw whenever he notices the new love interest in your life, nearly causing a fight one day you threw a cookout for your family and the man you're currently 'dating' is playing football with your daughter, seeing the stranger pick her up and spin her around when she scores a touchdown. it boils his blood to see your daughter smile at someone who isn't her father. sukuna awaits at the doorstep of his home, or 'ours' as he likes to call it, still delusional about your separation, claiming it's a break when it wasn't . . hands tucked into his dark gray sweatpants pockets with a smile on his usually stern face as he watches your tiny daughter run to him with giggles and bratz dolls in her hands. sukuna crouches low to grab her with a purposely exaggerated grunt, commenting on how big she's getting with a laugh.

you slam the door to your car, retrieving your daughter's duffel bag filled with things she needed for the weekend at daddy's. sukuna holds his child at his hip. you smile at her as she constantly pokes at his cheek to grab his lost attention. he couldn't keep his eyes off you. looking you up down with that all too familiar glint in his eyes. you raise your brow, glaring down at yourself dressed in a black maxi skirt that touches your ankles and a white lace top, feet in black sandals.

"what?"

"going somewhere?" he questions with authority.

"my house and back. i can't look nice?"

"you look good," you ignore the way he licks his pink lips, your daughter tapping his shoulder for the millionth time, the four-year-old always wanting to be the star of the show.

"daddy, can we watch bratz fashion ‘ixies with mommy?!" the little girl screeches excitedly.

"mommy has to go, baby," you drain the light from her face, the child frowning. sukuna eyes you.

"why?" they say periodically. you stare him down with annoyance. now she's gonna question me. before you can even speak, she's at it again.

"but we haven't watched it in months," she whines. "we watch it every day with all three of us."

sukuna sighs, rubbing her back. "it's okay, honey. me and you can just—"

"i'll stay," you cut him off immediately, not fond of seeing your daughter cry. his puppy dog act was irritating. he grins mischievously.

your daughter cheers and you lean forward to pinch her chubby cheeks, speed walking to your car to pull into the driveway before entering the familiar home, feeling somewhat vacant. the vibe is off, but a little nostalgic. you haven't stepped foot into this place in months, unable to, the idea bringing back too many unwanted memories. your divorce wasn't pretty; finding sukuna messing with another woman when you searched through his phone one day to find the messages, his excuses replaying in your head, all bullshit.

she was just one night. one night over six years? they were high-school sweethearts, and he tore that apart for a one-time fling. didn't make sense, never will. it's awkward when you stand in the kitchen you used to cook your happy family meals every day to see him make your daughter lunch for her movie, combing at her curly hair with your fingers as she went on about how she ate dyed eggs for green eggs and ham day at school. the movie was the same as usual, both of you sitting adjacent to her as she ate her lunch and enjoyed the film, falling asleep on sukuna's shoulder thirty minutes in.

school must've taken it out of her. sukuna stretches his arms, breathing out a 'finally' which makes you laugh, standing along with him as he carries her and you shut off the tv, checking a text from the man you're currently fooling around with, nothing serious. just experimenting the dating life again.

you home today? i wanna see you.

you sigh, dropping your shoulders tiredly. you weren't in the mood to see him. he was a funny guy, enjoyable to be around, and made your daughter laugh . . .but he's obscenely clingy. you liked your space, and he didn't know the meaning of it. on top of that, the sex was mediocre. nothing compared to how sukuna fucked me. you dissociated with the world momentarily, chewing on your lip as flashbacks hit, zoning out the sound of sukuna's heavy steps approaching.

"she's tucked in."

your eyes lock onto the veins bulging out of his arms, the white tee he wore hugging his muscles, and the platinum chain swinging around his neck making your face hot. dammit, stop. your stare lingers longer than you expect, sukuna lowering his face to catch your attention with a smirk.

"hello? you good?"

"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat.

"check me out all you want baby, it's still yours."

"sukuna," you roll your eyes, locking your phone and finding your car keys, needing to be as far away from him as possible before you do something you regret.

"what? i'm joking," he furrows his brows when you begin strutting towards the front door, mumbling about how your daughter's ballet recitals on sunday and not to forget to monitor her junk food intake. his hand clasps around your wrist to stop you.

"stay. i wanna talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"are you dating him?" he's straightforward, watching the muscle in his jaw clench.

"that's none of your business."

"i have a right to know who's around my daughter. yes or no? or are you just fuckin' him?"

"why?" you yank your arm away, getting in his face, barely with your height. "does it hurt your feelings? well, guess karmas a bitch."

sukuna chuckles darkly, raising his arm to tug at his bi-colored hair with frustration. "man, you're still on that shit."

you raise your brow with fury. he's shitting me. "on that . . . are you fucking serious? you tellin' me i don't have a reason to say fuck you for cheating on me?"

"all she did was suck my dick, you're acting like i was in her shit," he rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulder with zero care in the world. "i've apologized a million times. it was one stupid night where we were at each other's throats and she just so happened to be around . . so."

"you know what." you scoff, not having time for this stupid shit. men always have bullshit excuses when trying to justify cheating. you didn't care if he kissed the bitch, cheating is cheating. you managed to bypass him, walking around the couch until he was back in your face fast once again.

you clenched your keys in your fists, ready to claw at his face with them. "what do you want?"

it's silent for a moment, the hard stare he has on you makes you feel small, folding your arms over your midsection, waiting for his response.

"i need some pussy," he whispers gravelly, slowly licking his lips and grabbing at your waist. you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing at your clit. chill out.

"text your other bitch. i'm sure she'll give it to you."

"only your sweet fuckin' pussy," now his hands are smoothing to your backside, smacking his heavy, veiny palm on your ass to draw you closer, squeezing the flesh between his long fingers. you gasp, eyes wide as you feel the outline of his dick against your stomach. his fingers are dangerously close to your pussy. "daddy misses it so much."

you inhale, shifting to try your best and break from his barricade, shoving him away which barely makes him stumble. "i'm leaving."

thinking this is your final attempt at actually leaving, that relief gets knocked down the instant his hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you back to him, his mouth pressed to the side of your neck where he breathes and kisses wetly. you freeze, the ache below never subsiding in his hold. sukuna's lifting your skirt before another word falls from your pretty little mouth, shoving his hand into your matching white lace, smirking from the ocean flowing on his thick fingers.

"you need some dick, don't you?" he whispers hotly behind your earlobe, rushing his tongue there at the same time he circles your clit, falling back into his warm chest, dropping your keys altogether. "he not hitting it right? doesn't do it like me, does he?"

shamelessly, you nod your head in agreement, giving up because you know he's right and this is what you need. you know he can give you things no other man could. it hasn't been the same ever since. any man you've been with aside from him hasn't met up to those standards. sukuna raised your pussy to only come back to him. trained to accommodate him. cum from him. fuck him. for any other man to take possession of what he crafted would be fucking fowl.

"you miss me?" sukuna hums, walking you both towards the black couch in the living room you moved too far away from your previous escape. your knees are dented into the seat, arms thrown over the back as sukuna groans low in his throat, pupils blown with lust as he tugs your panties to sit at the middle of your thighs. he presses his clothed cock to you, grinding slowly to make you feel it, let you know how much he misses you more. "you miss daddy, baby?"

you keen, face buried into your forearms shyly, rocking back onto him, feeling yourself soak his pants. sukuna hisses and smacks your ass again, pussy clenching from the attack. you whine. "yes. miss you."

"daddy misses you too," he's swift with his actions, already tugging at his dick leaking absurd amounts of precum, circling the angry red tip on your entrance before sinking in only halfway, wanting you to remember how to take him. you moan quietly, biting at your arm and taking lead by pushing back onto him, only to have sukuna retract his hips.

"don't be greedy, you'll hurt yourself." it echoes in your head when he says this, smiling cutely, loving that he cared, unlike other men. and he's kind of right. he's perfectly thick, long to the point where it surpasses his belly button. it was always hard for you to fully wrap your hand around it, towering your face whenever he stood over you, veins decorating up the underside. he draws his hips back, carefully driving into you, rolling his waist effortlessly to make you savor every ridge of his cock.

"doesn't it feel so fuckin' good?" he asks with his lip tucked between his teeth, rolling his eyes back once he starts it up, hooking you by your handles and yanking you back as he fucks you, fascinated by the jelly-like bounce your ass makes as you throw it back.

his wife was always one to never hold back her sounds, whimpering and moaning to your hearts delight. sukuna has your back arched with his other palm, reaching behind yourself to clutch at his veiny forearm, the two of you locking eyes as you glare up at him to see him slowly losing it. so much pent-up sexual frustration from not having you for months. not being able to touch another woman since so it pisses him off to know you could easily fuck another man without feeling the same. he's getting mad just thinking about it, clenching his jaw tight as he fucked you harder, deeper. you're clawing at his arm and crying his name, sukuna coming to his senses momentarily, forgetting they had a daughter who's asleep upstairs.

he moves your hand away, entwining both his large palms over your mouth and pulling you back to his chest where your head rests, sukuna standing straight as your back dips even more, cursing as your eyes switch white and you sing into his hands shielding the sweet symphonic tones.

"you forgive me?" he breathes shakily on your forehead, ruts becoming sloppy when that familiar heat twitches in his gut. this he could excuse; cumming too fast just to brush off the burning arousal for you. he'd savor you later on when it truly mattered. he'd make love to you to prove that he still loves you, that he's different now, that he'd never fuck up a good thing again. right now, he just wanted to fuck you so you know he's not letting you leave anytime soon.

your brown eyes are slanted softly, whines and delicate nods of your head are what takes him there, dropping his hands from your mouth, choking you lightly as he mashed his mouth onto yours, moaning with you as you tremble and orgasm. he stays inside you a little longer, fearing that warmth would dissipate if he stayed out too long. sukuna swallows, catching his breath and darting his attention to the way his cum flows out of you after you fall forward, taking his index and middle finger to collect it and shove it back inside. you laugh at him with a silent 'fuck off' and smack his hand away. he grins happily, massaging your backside adoringly. this isn't a pass that you're going back to him. but having you in his presence as of now was a start he could be satisfied with.

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - eyes don't lie

a/n: as @moonswolfie said, this man has me wrapped around his finger, so here's another tsukki fic^^ i wanted to post it earlier, but bcs of school i sadly wasn't able to do that

summary: tsukishima definitely isn't jealous. or is he?

warnings: none

tsukishima's eyes were always glued to you.

his world revolved around you ever since you were little. although distant and dry at first, tsukishima seemed to take keen interest in your person almost immediately. he was lucky enough to end up in the same high school and class as you, even more lucky when he found a handwritten love letter in his locker, the writing obviously yours.

his eyes would glint whenever they landed on your frame, his lips always curving into a small, barely noticeable smile. yet this time, his look was completely different.

he looked annoyed, almost mad as he stood in the corner, his back against the wall as he carefully scanned the situation. the music was quite loud at the party, the house spacious enough to fit too many people for tsukishima's liking. it wasn't his party, of course; if it were up to him, he wouldn't be here in the first place. but something about your sweet, slightly pouty face while you asked him to accompany you was enough to convince him.

and now he was left watching as none other than kuroo tetsurou shamelessly flirted with you, talking and laughing at the other end of the room.

he seemed so irritated he didn't even notice his best friend standing right beside him, the freckled boy trying to contain his laughter upon seeing tsukishima's expression.

'ah, tsukki, you look even more grumpy than usual.' yamaguchi said, a small giggle leaving his mouth when his friend turned to face him, his expression so funny he couldn't contain his laughter anymore. 'i've never seen you so jealous.'

'i am not jealous.'

'right, and my name's hinata shoyo.'

tsukishima rolled his eyes, well aware that yamaguchi was, in fact, right. he was jealous beyond belief, almost to the point of making his blood boil. but it wasn't without its reasons.

you were beautiful, and not only in his eyes. many people from your high school, as well as outside of it, found you attractive, and due to this specific factor, tsukishima was afraid of someone swooping in and taking you away from him. no matter how many times yamaguchi assured him that you're not interested in anyone else, there was always a voice in the very back of his head telling him otherwise.

but still, he didn't utter a word to you about it. ever. he didn't want to show any weakness, brushing it off for the time being and pretending like he's not, in fact, quite hurt.

his eyes landed on you once again, his expression softening a bit when noticing you walking in his direction, a bright, wide smile gracing your face.

'i finally found you.' you said, tsukishima immediately noticing the sparkles in your eyes the moment they met his. an almost unnoticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand gently patting the top of your head, fingers brushing through your soft hair. 'want to go get some fresh air?'

the blonde hummed, nodding in response as you quickly grabbed him by his hand, almost dragging him to the nearest exit with a big smile on your face.

upon leaving the building, tsukishima laid his back against the wall, eyes glued to you and carefully scanning your every move.

'what're you thinking about?'

his head tilted to the side, a small mumble leaving his lips.

'nothing.'

hearing his answer, you sighed, walking up a few steps to stand right in front of him, a semi pouty look on your face. your hands went up to cup his cheeks, immediately scoring a theatrical groan from him, the boy trying to hide that he obviously liked whe  you did it.

'i don't believe you. you seem deep in thought.'

'what were you and kuroo talking about?'

tsukishima's eyes were focused on yours, his gaze gentle. and yet there was something in the way he looked at you that indicated something wasn't right.

'oh, we just talked about volleyball, what he's been doing after graduating high school, and- wait.' you stopped in the middle of the sentence, making a face that ysukishima couldn't quite decipher; something between an excited and mischievous look. she took a deep breath, her grin growing bigger with each second.

'are you jealous?'

'no, i'm not.'

'yes you are! i knew it.'

'no, i'm not.'

'you are.'

'i'm no- alright.' tsukishima sighed, admitting defeat this time. 'maybe i am. but it's your fault.'

you furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he meant by that. tsukishima saw the expression of yours and almost immediately continued talking, a short but sweet explanation.

'you're too pretty, one day someone's going to steal you from me.'

he didn't expect you to laugh in response, standing up on your tip toes to give him a quick, sweet kiss on the lips.

'it's cute.' you said, giggling at your boyfriend as you saw his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. 'but i'm not going anywhere. there's only one guy in this world who i view as a life partner.'

'and who would that be?' tsukishima asked, a nonchalant tone as he played dumb just to hear the answer.

'you, idiot.'

the blonde boy smiled, and this time it was a genuine one, that would only appear on his face when around you. he ruffled your hair playfully, laughing when you got annoyed about him ruining your hair.

he looked over to the sides, smiling when realized it was just the two of you. he quickly leaned down to kiss you, hand resting on the side of your face.

'i love you.'

you smiled into the kiss upon hearing his whisper, pulling back for a second to look at his face. she wrapped her arms around him tightly, trapping him in a hug.

'i love you too, you know? and i don't plan on going anywhere.'

taglist: @moonswolfie

[harrysfolklore]

omg i have a question for the bitchy carlos fic -

so nicole piastri came on red flags podcast recently and spoke about oscar and his childhood, what if there’s an au segment of her talking about older piastri & what would his reaction be

okay this turned out being way longer than intended bc i added the scene of carlos and nicole meeting bc why not, i hope i'm not annoying you with too much little bitch content, i'll promise i'll post for other drivers now READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

Host: "So, Nicole, we've heard a lot about Oscar's journey to F1, but what can you tell us about his relationship with his sister, YN? She has quite the personality online, doesn't she? Can you tell us about their relationship growing up?

Nicole:"Oh, those two. They've always had such a special bond. YN is a few years older than Oscar and yes, she's known as the Piastri who fights people online, but she's always been fiercely protective of him. From the moment YN first held Oscar as a baby, she appointed herself his protector. It was adorable and sometimes a bit much, but always came from a place of love.

Host: Can you give us an example?

Nicole: "When Oscar was about six and YN was maybe nine. Oscar had just started school and was having trouble making friends. He was quite shy back then, if you can believe it. One day, YN overheard some kids teasing Oscar in the playground."

Host: "Oh no, what happened?"

Nicole: "Well, YN marched right up to those boys and she told them off in no uncertain terms. She said, and I quote, 'My brother is going to be a famous race car driver one day, and you'll all be asking for his autograph. So you'd better be nice to him now!' The boys were so shocked they just stood there with their mouths open."

Host:"That's amazing! Did it help Oscar?"

Nicole: "It did, actually. Oscar was so impressed by his big sister standing up for him that it gave him a confidence boost. And you know what? Some of those boys ended up becoming his good friends. They still joke about YN's 'prophecy' coming true now that Oscar's in F1."

Host: "That's such a heartwarming story! It's clear YN has always been protective of Oscar. Now, speaking of relationships, we've heard that YN is dating Carlos Sainz. Can you tell us a bit about how that came to be?"

Nicole: "Oh, that's an interesting story! YN actually told us she was dating Carlos a while back, but we weren't surprised at all. We knew she liked him since that time in Singapore last year when our family visited. YN was trying so hard to act mad about Carlos' win, but it was obvious she was impressed."

Host: "So you had suspicions before they even got together?"

Nicole: "Absolutely! Even before that Singapore trip, YN used to go on these multiple rants about, in her words, 'this arrogant Spaniard' who kept pushing Oscar off track. She called him something I won't repeat but I'm pretty sure everyone knows it, it absolutely irritated her. But you know what? We all knew that deep down, she had a crush on him."

Host: "That's quite the turnaround! Have you met Carlos — as YN’s partner this time — yet?"

Nicole: "I haven’t, actually. I’m hoping to do that in Baku after the summer break. But I can see Carlos brings out a softer side of YN that we don't often see in public. Don't get me wrong, she's still fiercely stubborn and outspoken, but with Carlos, there's this gentleness that comes out. He seems to really understand and appreciate her passion, and he's not intimidated by her strong personality at all. In fact, he seems to admire it."

Host: "It sounds like they complement each other well. How has Oscar taken to their relationship?"

Nicole: "Oscar's been very supportive. I think he appreciates seeing his sister happy, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Carlos is someone he respects on the track. It's actually quite funny to see YN now, cheering for both Oscar and Carlos during races. She's always torn between wanting Oscar to win and not wanting Carlos to lose."

Host: "That's nice, Carlos sounds like quite the gentleman. Has YN picked up any Spanish since they started dating?"

Nicole: "Oh, that's actually a funny story. We love to tease YN about this. You see, she failed Spanish in high school - couldn't conjugate a verb to save her life. And now here she is, dating a Spaniard! Carlos has been trying to teach her, but let's just say it's a work in progress. She can now order a beer and ask where the bathroom is, so I suppose that's progress!"

Host: "That's hilarious! I'm sure she'll be fluent in no time."

Nicole: "Bless her, she's really trying. She's determined to have a full conversation with Carlos' parents in Spanish by the end of the year. We'll see how that goes!"

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 498,646 others

ynpiastri our queen is here !! and no one is ready

tagged: nicolepiastri

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username1 NICOLE PIASTRI IS THE MOMENT

username2 SLAY THE HOUSE BOOTS DOWN

mclaren Icon 🧡

lilyzneimer the besttttt 💓

username3 IS SHE MEETING CARLOS ??

username4 oh i can’t wait to see our queen giving carlos a run for his money again

landonorris Coolest ever

↳ ynpiastri her favorite will always be yuki don’t even try it

↳ username1 HEEEELP

yukitsunoda5511 Nicole is brat

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM 😭

oscarpiastri I’m ready, your boyfriend however…

↳ username3 LOOOOORDDD

↳ username1 POOR CARLOS

↳ ynpiastri leave him alone 😤😤

Baku had a special energy during race weekends. The tight streets and high-pressure atmosphere gave you a mixture of excitement and nerves, but today, the butterflies in your stomach had nothing to do with the Grand Prix. Instead, it was about the lunch you were about to have, where Carlos would meet your mom—officially, as your boyfriend this time.

You walked through the paddock with Carlos by your side, his hand wrapped around yours. Oscar was a few steps ahead, casually walking toward the hospitality area where no other than Nicole Piastri waited. She had met Carlos briefly before, like many of the other drivers, but this was different. He wasn’t just a name on the grid anymore—he was the man you were dating, and Carlos seemed to be nervous about the meeting.

"You think she likes me?" Carlos adjusted his hat for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Carlos, she’s going to love you," you couldn’t help but smile at his nerves, "She already does. But, you know... as a mum, she's entitled to give you a little hard time."

"That’s what I’m worried about," Carlos chuckled, but his smile was still tight, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"

"You will," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just be yourself."

Oscar slowed down, overhearing your conversation and grinning like he already knew how this would play out. "Mum’s gonna grill you, mate," he teased, throwing a glance back at Carlos. "She’s been waiting for this."

"Not helping, Oscar," you muttered, giving your brother a playful shove. He just smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

When you finally reached the hospitality tent, your mom was already seated at a table, smiling warmly as she saw you all approach. She stood up to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar hug before turning to Carlos with that same welcoming smile—though you knew there was a glint of mischief behind it.

“Carlos, it’s so good to see you again,” she greeted, shaking his hand.

"It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Piastri," Carlos said, his polite smile fixed on his face. His Spanish charm was dialed up a notch, but you could still feel the slight tension in his grip as he held your hand.

“Please, call me Nicole,” she said, taking her seat again. “I’m not that formal, especially not with my daughter’s boyfriend.”

As you all settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice the amused glances Oscar and your mom were exchanging. You knew that look—they were up to something.

"So," Nicole began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "how long have you two been together again?"

You glanced at Carlos, who seemed to relax a bit as he answered, "About two months officially, right, cariño?"

You nodded, but before you could add anything, your mom raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"

"Mum!" you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.

Oscar, who had taken a seat across from you, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the dynamic unfold.

"That’s what I thought," she teased, making Oscar let out a loud laugh.

You felt your face grow even hotter as your mom's implications hung in the air. Carlos, to his credit, managed to maintain his composure, though you noticed a slight redness creeping up his neck.

"Well," Carlos cleared his throat, his accent a bit thicker than usual, "I think it's safe to say we've known each other for quite some time now."

"Oh, I remember. You two weren't exactly friendly at first, were you?"

"That's putting it mildly, Mum," Oscar snorted, "Remember the time she came home absolutely fuming after a race? She was ranting about 'that little bi—'"

"Oscar!" you cut him off, "We don't need to relive that."

Carlos squeezed your hand under the table, clearly amused. "No, please, I'd love to hear about this."

"Oh mate, you should've heard her," Oscar spoke again, "'Carlos this, Carlos that.' I swear, she talked about you more when she hated you than she does now."

"I did not!" you protested, but your brother's knowing smirk told you he wasn't buying it.

"It's true," your mum added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "I remember thinking, 'This girl protests too much.' I had a feeling even then that all that anger was hiding something else."

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

Carlos wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "It's okay, hermosa. I love to hear these stories."

You looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. It was hard to believe that those same eyes had once glared at you across the paddock.

Nicole smiled, watching the two of you with that familiar mom look—part teasing, part proud. "Well, now look at you. I guess all that bickering was just a cover-up for how much you liked each other."

"You’ve gone soft," Oscar rolled his eyes dramatically. "I kinda miss the days when you’d call each other names."

"Don’t worry," you muttered, giving Carlos a playful glare. "He’s still a little bitch sometimes."

Carlos laughed, his arm tightening around you as he kissed the top of your head. "And you’re still my favorite enemy turned girlfriend."

Your mom let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I knew it all along."

[reidmania]

cedar | spencer reid

summary; breaking up on good terms and remaining friends is difficult, especially when you and spencer work together, its even harder when your life is put at risk and spencer is faced the possibility that he might really lose you.

warnings; exes who cannot stay exes, angst, fluff, they flirt w each other, fem reader, mentions of being stabbed, all cm minds things, happy ending, avoidant!reader, self sabotaging reader. BUT THERES SOOO MUCH FLUFF GUYS, they flirt and banter so much, reader is sarcastic and very playful, shes lowkey lorelai gilmore coded a little idk

an; cedar is my song. i love cedar, i love gracie abrams. thank u and goodnight. not proof read bc if i read it i probably wont post it. thank u so very muchly to @gghostwriter for all the advice on this fic and letting me yap about it.

‘Breaking up is funny, I forget you aren't mine, I forget you aren't mine. It's impossible to acclimate, every time we talk, we understate, how I know we both could die, we both could die. But you told me that you felt the same, when I told you how I needed space, but I think it was a lie, it was a lie’

“You know pointing is rude.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant back in your chair. The room went silent as everyone turned their gaze to look at you. Was the timing of your statement the best? No, did you care? Also no. Hotch was in the middle of going on the details of the case you had traveled out to Louisiana for, he was pointing at the screen and the thought just slipped passed your lips before you could help it.

Spencer turned his gaze to you, eyebrow rasied, “Do you ever think before you speak?” He asked. Your lips parted before shutting again, then you let out an amused huff and shook your head, lips pulling into a half teasing smile.

“If I did that I’d lose my sense of humour— you all would be miserably bored.” You sighed back, the smiling pulling further on your lips as the messy haired brunette sitting opposite you raised his eyebrow further and let out a half hearted— almost sarcastic chuckle in return.

He tilted his head slightly, “Humour? Is that what we are calling it?” He asked. You nodded instantly, a wide, half proud smile taking over your features. He hummed, clearly amused.

“Why is pointing rude?” JJ spoke up, your eyes widened in almost excitement to be able to talk about why the thought had crossed your mind in the first place.

“Well when you point you kill all the fairies.” You replied, matter-of- factually. You knew it was technically silly but it was a sweet childish thought that had been engraved in your mind since you were younger and you heard it from a distant relative, probably as a way to you from stop pointing at someone (because that was rude but explaining that to a five year old would be useless so they settled on something more interesting for an adolescent)

Spencer let out an audible laugh, “You are a child.” He said, almost teasingly.

Your head turned away from JJ’s to meet his eyes, this time you sat up a little straighter, “What does that make you?” You teased back, raising your eyebrow at him.

Seemingly, that made his lips part then close, and he resigned, yet there was still a slightly amused smile on his lips, which he bit his lip to try to hide, as he turned his attention away, making your smile only widen as you settled back in place, slumped against your chair as you turned your attention back to Hotch. who was standing arms crossed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

You however just smiled widely at him, “You may continue now. Without pointing, don’t be a fairy murder.” You huffed out. Hotch stared at you for a moment, no emotion evident over his features before he shook his head, turning his attention back to the case at hand.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s for a moment. In those moments it was increasingly difficult to remember you weren’t together, it was further difficult to remember why you had broken up in the first place. The way you interacted, the looking for one another in a crowded room, the soft touches and the teasing taunts went against every breakup ‘rule’

The breakup wasn’t messy. Not really, Not at all. It wasn’t mean, there was no big argument, no mind changer, no feelings lost, it just.. happened. It started when you had admitted to Spencer you were getting overwhelmed with the fast pace of your relationship, and he agreed he was too. You both agreed to take space, time, to reevaluate on what you both needed at this point in time.

When the conversation finally happened, you told him you thought it would be better to end things now, while everything is good so theres no chance of things going bad. You explained your reasoning by saying you didn’t want to lose your friendship with him if that feeling in your chest never went away, you didn’t want things to be awkward at work.

He had agreed, and it was mutual. You both mutually agreed to end things out of the fear of things ending.

It had been a month since the breakup, there was no awkward phase between you two. There was no tension, bitterness. It instantly fell into the same rhythm that had always been there, playfulness, teasing, lingering glances. The only difference was now he didn’t steal kisses to cut off one of your dramatic rambles, or wrap his arms around your waist at the end of the work day to signal he was ready to go.

You hadn’t decided yet, if the breakup was the right thing to do, if keeping this close knit bond with Spencer stumped any chance of you moving on — not that you planned to right now.

The breakup wasn’t messy, but everything after, everything now and everything in your head was.

“Spencer” You poked at his arm as you approached where he was standing, leaning over a desk reading over something, you weren’t sure what it was, you didn’t really care. He didn’t look at you as he let out a hum of acknowledgment, making you smile. “Spencer” You repeated, poking his arm again, and then again, until he turned his head to look at you.

His raised eyebrow and the way his lips pulled into a tight thin line showed he was unamused, not annoyed. You smiled widely at him, “You’re in my way.” You said, something you could have told him when he was half paying attention, but that took all the fun out of it.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the desk further, turning towards you. Which only further blocked your path. “Thats unfortunate.” He sighed, you squinted at him slightly.

“Can you move.” You huffed. No longer amused because it was less amusing when he was amused as well. Maybe that was silly but you couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it for a moment, before looking back at you. You glared at him, crossing his arms over your chest before he spoke. “Whats the magic word?” He mumbled, tone laced with faux seriousness.

A huff left your lips, as you glared up at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “Chivalry is dead?” You suggested sarcastically.

He grinned, “No. And that’s a sentence. I said magic word”

“You know what? I will just go the other way.” You decided, turning on your heels to walk away. A laugh left his lips as he reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you from getting too far, he dragged you back to stand in front of him.

“Stubborn.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, you returned the gaze, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him, trying to keep the smile threatening to make way onto your face.

“You just noticed?” You replied in the same tone. Although you knew he had known this for a while, he never failed to mention how stubborn you were throughout your relationship, whether it was playful or in the middle of an argument, he constantly reminded you just how stubborn you were.

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the amusement on his face. “No, No. Trust me you make it very known.” He said, emphasising his words to make it clear that not only he, but everyone was aware of your stubbornness.

You smiled, “Being stubborn isn’t a bad thing, you know.” You mumbled, gently pulling your wrist away from his hold, not because you didn’t enjoy the touch but more-so because you felt an undying urge to cross your arms.

He hummed, looking down at you, “I didn’t say it was.”

You tilted your head, the same entertained look in your eye that mirrored his, “You inferred it.” You said, matter-of-factually, although he didn’t, not really. He actually didn’t give any hint to what he meant by his words, but you were okay with that. It kept things lighthearted, easy.

“You assumed.” He said in the same tone. “I didn’t infer anything, I simply made an observation.” He said, raising his eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out how you were going to find a way to reply — he assumed something witty, dramatic.

“Can you observe from elsewhere.. you’re still in my way”

He let out an amused laugh, “Im still waiting on that magic word” He said, clearly enjoying this and the light hearted banter between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, in a huff of frustration you ramble, “You are creating a hostile work environment. I feel unsafe. I feel targeted and threatened. How do you feel about yourself, after treating me such a way? You are a horrible evil person. Im going to take this to corporate.” You babbled off into a dramatic tangent which only furthered Spencer’s amusement of the current situation.

“I feel pretty great actually.” He shrugged, you glared at him, staying in place for a moment to see if he would move, he didn’t, instead he continued smirking slightly. You groaned dramatically before turning on your heels and walking away. You could hear his laughter as you walked around the opposite direction to get where you wanted to go in the first place.

“I hate when my job actually requires me to do my job.” You huffed out, shaking your head as you tightened the straps of your vest. It wasn’t true, you loved your job, you loved what you did and that wasn’t a question. It was just the dramatics and the emphasis on how tired you were today, although that didn’t stop killers from killing, or kidnappers from kidnapping.

Unfortunately this case was particularly tough, it had taken an abundance of days to just figure out the victimology and connection because of how random the killings were, then it took another day to figure out the MO, then the profile was completed, then the next day, today, you had finally gotten the location of where the unsub was keeping his victims.

“Yeah, Such a struggle, poor you” Spencer mumbled out as he came up behind you, readjusting the straps on the back of your vest to make sure it was on properly, his voice was laced with tease, you just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Make sure you’re careful, and cautious.” Hotch reminded you. You didn’t think much of it at the time, it was the same reminder as always when catching an unsub, don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, don’t split up unless necessary, don’t put yourself in a situation that you cant get yourself out of, the words you had heard probably a million times.

You wished you paid closer attention this time.

You and Spencer walked through the house, it had an ominous feel to it, the air in the house was colder than outside, and it wasn’t a particularly warm day — but it wasn’t the temperature that made the house feel as cold as it did.

Instead it was the guttual sobs you heard from underneath the floorboards that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and goosebumps to line your arms. They weren’t sobs of pain, instead just ache, a cry so loud begging for someone to hear. Before that you were about to whisper a stupid joke to Spencer, now you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“Stay here.” He whispered to you. There was something unfamiliar about the look in his eyes and any wit you could muster up was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice. It was a stupid request, you couldn’t just stay here in the hallway while he wandered around. You had a job to do.

When he turned the corner, gun pointed protectively, his movements were calculated and careful, every step he took he knew what he was doing, You thought you did too. The first step you took was quiet and your gun was pointed, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Spencer moved towards the sound of the sobs, you moved towards the living room, trying to clear the downstairs area of the house. There was a pull in your stomach for a number of seconds, a twist of anxiety you pushed to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

That didn’t last. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach turned into gasping at the feeling. A gasp of pain leaving your parted lips as you stumbled forward, the gun left your hand and hit the ground, the sound of the contact blurring as a ringing swindling sound took over your sense of hearing.

You were stabbed. You could feel the metal, more than you wanted to admit, you could feel the way it pressed into your skin, the coldness of it against the warmth of you. A sob of pain left your lips before you could help it. There was someone holding you, wrapping a tight arm around your chest and a hand over your mouth to silence your cry.

The arms weren’t comforting, in any sort of way. They were too tight, too suffocating for the lack of air you were able to breath in between the hand covering your mouth and the pain in your stomach, you wished adrenaline would kick in but it seemed to dwindle out as your head spun, then the knife was ripped away from your stomach.

That hurt.

More than it did when it first went in.

Then you were released from the mans arms and your body collapsed in pain, eyes squeezing shut as your hands scrambled to press against the open wound now bleeding out. You didn’t know where the unsub was, you didn’t hear footsteps, you didn’t really hear anything. Everything seemed blurry, not your sight so much since your eyes were squeezed shut but you could feel your mind blurring with every second that passed, any first aid training you had learnt flew out the window.

You missed it at first, the sound of the door opening, the sound of back up coming in, Derek, Emily. They were in the house now but not in the living room, not where you were lying on the floor in a helpless pool of your own blood. You wanted to yell out, or sob but every sound got stuck in your throat.

Then you felt a larger hand pressing on top of yours, placing more pressure against the wound than your tired arms had allowed, you made out frantic talking but nothing your half conscious mind could string together coherently. It didn’t matter, you could recognise the roughness of the gentle hand anywhere.

“Spencer” You gasped out, panting.

Had you been holding your breath? You didn’t remember but you knew breathing was getting more and more difficult.

His hand pressed against yours, other hand coming to brush hairs out of your face. “Im here. Can you open your eyes for me?” He almost begged, his voice gentle and reassuring and laced with panic even though he tried his hardest to remain calm for your sake.

You didn’t reply, only letting out strangled gasps for air, eyes remaining shut, squeezed tightly, as if the harder you squeezed them shut, the more your pain decreased. Unfortunately thats not how anatomy works.

“Open your eyes for me angel, look at me.” He now did beg. If you were conscious you would’ve given him a look for the use of the term of endearment in your current broken up state, but you could hardly process anything else he was saying, and you were bleeding out so there was clearly more important things.

You struggled, but after a moment peeled your eyes open to look at him. Vision was blurry and fading in and out even few seconds even when your eyes remained open, you couldn’t make out his features, you couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back. God you wished you could see his face.

“Good, thats good. Keep looking at me, Okay? We’re getting you help, you’re gonna be okay” He reassured but it was more of a slight reassurance for himself, trying to convince himself as such. His voice became a ringing in your ears, along with every other sound around you.

“Wh- Where- Is—“ You words came out mumbled, muffled by gasps for air and whimpers of pain. “He.” You finished, trying to keep your eyes open, trying to focus, trying to stay alive.

Spencer spluttered for a moment because he didn’t know— He had no idea. Whether the unsub was right behind him or whether they were being taken into custody by Derek or Emily, whether he was lying dead on the floor somewhere. Spencer didn’t know. He couldn’t. How could he focus on anything else?

“I don’t know” He said.

“Go away” You mumbled, eyes now fluttering closed, even in the state of half consciousness you knew Spencer was still in danger, more danger by keeping his back to his surroundings and his focus on you. That was putting himself in an unnecessarily dangerous situation.

He shook his head. “Im not going anywhere. Keep your eyes open.” He repeated.

“Spencer” You huffed out a breath of air, your eyes remaining closed because you were so tired. “Go. You- You aren’t— You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” You huffed out the words that came across way harsher than what you intended them, “Staying- With.. Me isn’t your.. Responsibilty” Your words came out laboured along with the way your chest rose and fell, the breaths that left your lips.

“Don’t say that. Open your eyes.” He shook his head as his other hand trailed down to your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You couldn’t feel it, every part of you and every inch of his touch felt like a lingering sensation over the numbness of your body, your eyes remained shut.

“If i die” You huffed out, your voice quieter, more rushed as you tried to get more air in, “Please” You started before you let out a gentle sob, not of pain, you weren’t in pain, not anymore. “Please don’t let them use a bad— photo of me.. at..- my funeral”

It was the most you things to say before you stopped replying, before your body tensed slightly. To joke, to be playful at a time like this. Spencer wondered if it was an attempt to calm him down, to relax his mind a little bit, to sooth the ache in his soul with the wit that was unforgettably you.

The cream coloured walls seemed taunting, they were warmly lit, contrasting how cold the space felt, how daunting it was. There was different people scattered around, some crying, and grieving, some reading newspapers, others celebrating. There was really no contrast of emotions quite like a hospital waiting room.

“She just got out of surgery. Shes in the ICU.” Hotch said as he stood in front of the few members of the team that were sitting by waiting. Everyone wanted to stay at the hospital and wait throughout the time of your lengthy surgery, not everybody could.

“Is she okay?” Emily asked, sitting up a little straighter as Hotch spoke, Spencer remained silent in place, every part of his body relying on the ache in his chest to keep his heart beating. He didn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to, he didn’t know if he could speak without his voice breaking.

Hotch was silent for a moment, which caused Spencer’s head to snap towards him in nothing but pure dread. Hotch realised and shook his head. “Shes— Shes fine. Shes alive. Shes still asleep, they said it could be a few hours before she wakes up. The surgery went fine - She will be okay” Hotch sounded relived as his spoke, an unfamiliar sense of emotion in his voice.

“Can I see her?” Spencer spoke urgently before he had even fully understood what he was saying. If he had thought about it for a moment more, he wouldn’t have bothered asking. He wasn’t oblivious to the inner workings of a hospital. ICU. Family members only.

Hotch seemed to know that Spencer already knew what the answer was, “Reid..” It came out regretful, apologetic, empathetic. Spencer didn’t reply, instead re-slumped back in his seat in defeat.

There was hours. Hours before you were awake. In those hours Spencer was nothing short of a mess. He tried to work, reading over case files, trying to summarise what had happened and then the memory of your blood painting his hands came back and he was left in a state of overwhelming thought.

“You alright, pretty boy?” Derek asked, despite the playfulness of his words, his tone was serious. It wasn’t a secret how much you meant to Spencer, it wasn’t a secret how much he cared about you. Spencer looked up from the hospital seat, the room had grown more absent of life as the hours passed, families came and went, the crying stopped and started again, the celebrations happened and passed. Yet spencer never stopped feeling so lost.

He shook his head, saying he was fine would be a lost cause to the knowingness of his best friend, and his current state. He was so evidently not all right that saying so would be humorous. His cheeks were flushed, hair a mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it, tugged on the strands stressfully.

“You know what she said to me?” Spencer mumbled out as he pulled his gaze away to look at his fiddling hands, “She was laying on the floor, dying, and she told me to go away because I wasn’t her boyfriend anymore” Spencer huffed out the memory.

Derek sighed, taking a seat next to the mess of his best friend. “I don’t think she meant it like that. The situation was still dangerous and you were putting yourself at risk.” Derek said. Spencer wanted to cry.

“I know— I know. She said ‘it’s not your responsibility to stay with me anymore’ — I don’t— I can’t—” Spencer couldn’t articulate the emotions swamping his mind. Everything was overwhelming, every time he closed his eyes he saw you on the floor in a puddle of deep red blood, anytime his fingers remained still for too long it was like he could still feel your pulse running flat against them.

“Breathe.” Derek reminded as Spencer got himself worked up.

“I lost her— I lost her.” Spencer shook his head as the words came out, his hands pulling to his face to rub over his eyes, maybe as to hide the way they’d begun to water, maybe to feel anything besides the heat of his cheeks.

Derek sat up a little straighter to rub Spencer’s shoulder, “Shes okay. They said she will be fine. They just want to look over her for a while. She was in a tough surgery, I don’t know much about hospitals but I’m pretty sure being in the ICU means shes getting all the care she needs to recover better, and faster.” Derek tried to comfort.

“Its- No- I already lost her Derek. I was an idiot and I didn’t say anything — I didn’t say anything because I was scared of losing her and i lost her anyways.” He rambled, an overwhelming force of regret lingering in every word he gasped out.

“Your breakup? I thought that was mutual?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Spencer wanted to laugh, because technically it was. Technically they had both agreed, technically this is what he wanted as well.

He just wanted you.

“She wanted space— I thought.. I thought everything would be okay. Then she suggested we break up while things are still good enough for us to end on good terms and be friends. I just — I didn’t want to lose her; I wanted her to be happy and in my life so I didn’t say anything.. I- I settled for being friends because it meant — I thought it meant i still had her” Spencer was a mess and it was evident in the stammer of his words in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t think you do?” Derek asked, Spencer shook his head as he brought his hand down to rub gently over his chin and bottom lip, a shaky breath leaving his lip’s. “I think you do.. I mean everyone does. You two still act like you’re together.” Derek said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Spencer sighed, “Thats just— Thats how it was before we started dating. Sometimes it feel’s like we are still together.” Spencer mumbled, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer cut him off. “Shes going to wake up, alone. Her family is in a different state and I’m not allowed to see her? I- This is bullshit.”

“Just say you’re her husband” Emily said, catching both of the boys off guard, they hadn’t heard her approaching. Spencer lifted his gaze from the ground to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, if it was for any other person he would probably go over how that went against so many rules, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Not when it came to you.

He broke protocol. He wondered how many times that had happened today as he sat beside you, his hand on of yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles as you laid still unconscious on the bed. He paid attention to the beeping of the machine, the rhythm of your heartbeat, making sure it stayed consistent like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it.

You mumbled something, causing his gaze to break away from the screen to your face, watching it twist slightly. Your eyes remaining closed, then your hand twisted to interlink your fingers with his. You were evidently in pain.

“Hey- Hey don’t move too much. Do you want me to get your nurse? They can give you some different meds” Spencer ushered gently, leaning closer to the bed as you stirred awake. He wasn’t sure if your lengthy amount of time spent unconscious was purely because of the antiseptic leaving your system or also the need for sleep but he was glad you were awake.

“No” You rasped out. Whatever medicine they had been pumping you with since you got out of surgery did its job. You weren’t necessarily in pain, just uncomfortable. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the brightness of the white hospital lights. You knew where you were.

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, making you now very aware that he was holding your hand. “What the fuck happened?” You huffed out, voice groggy and full of confusion. You knew where you were, you knew it was something that happened on the case, you knew you were stabbed, but everything after the knife made contact with your abdomen was a blur in your memory.

“You were stabbed.” He stated. You opened your eyes to glare at him, “Yeah- Spencer, no shit.” You shook your head, he smiled. “I just— Is everyone else okay?” You asked.

He nodded. Derek and Emily had saved all the victims and the unsub was in custody, he explained that to you softly, mapping out every detail so you could make it out enough in your mind to satisfy your need to know what was going on.

“Next time can you tell him to do better? This bed sucks” You referenced to the unsub stabbing you, and leaving you alive and uncomfortable. It was a joke. You tried to move without causing yourself any pain over the uncomfortable thin mattress of the hospital bed. Spencer smiled and let out a breathy half hearted laugh.

“I’ll be sure to let him know” He returned your playful tone but it was heavier, quieter. It was filled with something more, something unsaid. His eyes dropped from your to back to your hands that were twined together, rubbing his thumb gently over the webbing of your own.

You tilted your head slightly, “What’s wrong?” You asked, it didn’t take a genius to read Spencer. You had memories the is and out’s of his head, or you thought you did. You knew enough.

“I thought I lost you.” He said, shaking his head slightly. His voice was so quiet and filled with guilt. “We broke up and.. because of what? Because we didn’t want to lose each other— I almost lost you.” His words held so much gravity it felt like it had all been taken from your surroundings and you were floating on everything left unsaid and unfinished.

“But you didn’t. Im alive.” You smiled playfully. He said your name, serious, showing he wasn’t playing around about this, that it went further than just this situation. You sighed, and shook your head. There were only so many jokes you could make to downplay the weight of the space between you.

“Okay. We broke up.” You mumbled, looking at him. “Because things were weird and it was too much and if things kept going then if we ended later it wouldn’t be on good terms and then we wouldn’t be able to be friends and thats horrible for everyone” You said, recapping your mutual decision to break up.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked up at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Do what?” There was a number of things he could pull you up on, your avoidance, your jokes, your way of downplaying everything and anything.

“Plan the end of things when they have hardly started. You were planning a breakup for a relationship that was doing perfectly fine. You needed space, I gave you space, then you decided you wanted to break up? Why?” He huffed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows further at his words, but he was right. Of course he was right. “You said you felt the same.” You mumbled, maybe if he had called you on your bullshit a month ago things would be different and you would’ve worked things out, you two would be together and maybe everything would be different. You also knew it wasn’t his responsibility to try and understand emotions you couldn’t comprehend or communicate to him.

“I didn’t want space, I didn’t want to break up — but I didn’t want to lose you all together.” He admitted. You suddenly felt the wind knock out of your chest. You wondered if the way your heart beat increased showed on the monitor, which seemed all too revealing.

“You didn’t say that.” You muttered.

He sat up a little straighter, not letting go of your hand, his fingers stayed tangled with your own. “Would it have changed anything if i did?” His voice was quiet, as if a question that didn’t need an answer.

“It was going.. too fast” You huffed. The relationship did go fast, but maybe it was because the two of you spent way too many years in this flirty banter phase before either of you actually made a move; maybe because you were both already so comfortable with one another.

“We could have slowed it down.” He said, rebutting.

“And if that didn’t work? If it was all just too much? Then we argue and we end on bad terms and then not only is it awkward for everyone at work but then we can’t even be friends” You repeated your point, the fear engraved in your mind.

“What if it did work?” He shut you up with his point, before he continued. “What if it did work and then everything was fine. What if you told me when things are getting too much or overwhelming you and we work together to fix those issues so we don’t end at all.”

“That’s optimistic.” You mumbled sarcastically. Everything he was saying made sense, everything he was saying was ideally how a relationship would go, but it wasn’t as simple as that for you. You couldn’t help the way your mind thought the worst.

Spencer huffed shaking his head, “You’re stubborn.” He said. And he never let you forget it.

“Im realistic.” You resorted, but you weren’t: You hyper fixated on everything that could go wrong and got yourself out of those situations before giving anything a chance to work out itself.

“You’re an idiot. And I love you.” Spencer exhaled. It wasn’t a crazy love confession because you knew this. He made it known everyday. Even everyday you were broken up. He didn’t need to hide it. “Can you give us a chance? A proper chance without planning our breakup before theres any actual reason for it, please.” He mumbled, half playfully and half so serious.

You considered his words. Honestly your last thought before falling unconscious was the fear that you would die without Spencer knowing how much you loved him, how much regret you lived with for the state you had got yourself into with him, the fear you had of not having him in some way, none of these thoughts you could voice aloud when dying.

“Okay.” You settled.

“Okay?” He asked, repeating it back as if he didn’t believe you. You nodded, repeating it again. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay good, because everyone on this floor thinks I’m your husband and it would’ve been really awkward if you just rejected me.”

[bearambles]

ARUGUMENT FIC W HAMZAH PLEASE like gets into an argument and you need to cool off and leave and he won’t let you jus angst 👅👅

jealous

(hamzahthefantastic)

words: 1.9k

warnings: established relationship, angst, arguing, swearing, hamzah is kinda a pos, happy ending

note: i hope this is what you were hoping for! i could also 100% write a part 2. also, i think another anon recently requested an argument fic, so there might be another one coming bc it was honestly fun to write. love u all, more fics coming soon

hamzah is driving you insane.

he’s usually not the “jealous type”, but for some reason, today is different. he’s grumpy and pissy and you think you know why.

last night you had gone out to dinner with a few friends from your old school. you weren’t out late, and the group was only about ten people, but to his dismay, your ex boyfriend was one of them.

you told him about it as soon as you knew, and he was pretty passive as soon as he heard. still, he didn’t make too big of a deal, even when you wore your skimpy little outfit to the bar. after all, it was high school. besides, he trusts you.

that was until he saw the pictures. your exs hand on your waist. the way he’s next to you in the group photo. it all really pisses him the fuck off, and even when you swear to him it meant nothing and the guy didn’t mean it, he wasn’t so sure.

“y/n, you see this guy after like five years, you look fine as fuck wearing that tiny fucking skirt, and you think he won’t be into you?”

you scoff, your chest now rising and falling. you really never pegged hamzah as the type of guy to act like this. yet here he was, standing in your bedroom, a few feet away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.

you’d crawled into bed last night to him asleep, and the two of you had been completely fine until this morning. he woke up to see your friend post on instagram about the night prior. he scrolled through her photos before finding the ones of the whole group.

“okay, so it’s my fault if he was?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you meant it though!” you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated. “listen, i already told you it was nothing. but if it wasn’t, if he was interested, it doesn’t matter, because im dating you.”

he smiles tightly and shakes his head, the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

“sure. okay. yeah.”

“you think i’d cheat?”

you stare at him, your blood pressure rising. you can’t believe the way he’s acting. the shit he’s implying you’d do.

“i never fucking said that, y/n. i’m just saying he was touchy, and you won’t admit it.”

“it was one fucking photo! he happened to be next to me! where did you want him to put his hands?”

“anywhere else! not your waist! it’s fucking weird!”

“so you’re mad at me because of the way a guy acted towards me.” you say, sitting down on your bed and mimicking his move of crossing his arms. “that’s really fucking progressive of you.”

“oh my god, you know that’s not true. jesus christ. i’m not mad, im just fucking annoyed. and i don’t like how you acted either.”

“how did i act hamzah. you weren’t even fucking there.” you start to feel tears prick your eyes. you hate crying in front of him, you rarely do. but this was so frustrating, listening to him accuse you when you only love him.

“i still saw.” he mumbles, clearly losing what he was trying to say in the first place. he’s just spitballing stuff at this point.

he isn’t even looking at you any more. his eyes meet the floor and he’s breathing so hard you can hear it just barely. he’s close enough to where you could reach out to his arm and pull him on top of you. you won’t though.

“saw what? my tiny skirt?” you laugh, baffled. “just leave me alone.” you can feel some of the tears start to fall.

he looks up at you when he hears your voice break. his eyes soften their gaze but he stays where he’s standing. it’s silent for a moment before you speak again.

“go away, hamzah.” you say, moving your position to lay down, your face turned away from him.

“no. i wanna talk.”

you’re silent.

“y/n-“

“i said go away.” you mumble between sobs.

you’re stiff for a long moment before you hear him sigh. he turns and leaves your room, and you wait till you hear the door click before really letting yourself sob.

you’d dealt with this in the past - controlling relationships where anything you did around any ex was considered suspicious. in fact, you almost didn’t go last night. but you’d wanted to catch up with your old friends. if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have had your ex there either. he was a total jerk back in the day. but he was, and it was fine. you’d barely spoken outside of taking that group picture.

you don’t want to fight with hamzah. he’s your person. but the way he’s acting is scary.

eventually you decide you need some air. you get dressed, throw on some makeup, and head out the door. you don’t know where you’re going, but you know it needs to be away from here. away from him.

he jumps up from the couch and catches your wrist right before you can turn the knob. you whip your head around, and meet his eyes. he looks just as pissed as before.

“where are you going?” he asks, still gripping you hard

“what, do i need your permission to leave the fucking house now?” you bite back, wriggling our arm free, “get off me. i’ll be back later.”

he starts to protest, but you slam the door before you hear any of it. if you had any fucks left to give, youd tear up again. at this point though, you’ve had enough. if he wanted to be like this, you weren’t gonna entertain it.

the city’s relatively walkable, so that’s what you do. there’s plenty of stuff to do around the area. retail therapy, you think. whatever makes you forget about this argument for a while.

-

it’s late when you walk home. later than the night before, and later than you’d ever been out without calling. you and hamzah had one another’s location, so really, he could see anytime where you were. which was the outdoor mall, and then the local bar. you’d only had a few drinks, but you were there for a good two hours. just talking and talking to the bartender. you guys are friends, and she was a good listener. so she listened.

“he’s just being so mean. and like, he’s never mean. sometimes we argue and stuff, but it’s always over stupid stuff, you know? and like, we make up super quick. but he’s like, so mad at me. and i swear to god, i didn’t even do anything.”

“it’s his first real relationship, right?” she asks, while pouring a drink

“yeah. i guess maybe that’s why. i just like, never thought he’d be like this. all jealous.”

“i think most guys are, honestly. or at least, the insecure ones. either way though, he shouldn’t be acting that way. i’m glad you got out to clear your head.”

you nod and take a sip. you’re tipsy, you realize. it actually feels pretty nice though. letting loose to someone like this. you should be talking to hamzah, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen. you sigh and shake your head like it’ll clear the thoughts away.

when you walk through the door, the house is silent. it’s nearly one am, so you assume at first that hamzah fell asleep. that is until you’re going to hang your jacket up and hear him open the bedroom door. you press your eyes closed, ready for the reprimanding.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

you turn around to face him, and his eyebrows are knit together. he’s in the doorway, his arms crossed and his back against the doorframe. he chews at his lip.

“sorry.” you mumble, going to take your shoes off.

“sorry?” he scoffs, uncrossing his arms and using them as he speaks, “you were out for hours, y/n!”

“i told you i’d be back later.” you don’t look at him, don’t step forward. you stand there, your arms pressed against our chest, holding yourself tight.

“that’s all i get then? not even a text? what the fuck, y/n.” his nostrils flare as he talks, and he starts moving closer to you. “I had no idea if you were safe! you could have gotten fucking killed.”

you laugh, moving your head back like you can’t believe what he’s saying. though honestly - he’s right. the city can be sketchy, especially at night. you seldom went on walks without him this late. especially drunk. which, he hasn’t seemed to notice you are yet.

“killed? come on.”

“don’t act like that’s crazy to say. the streets are dangerous. you know that!” he’s in your face now, motioning with his hands. “seriously, y/n, what the fuck.”

you flinch as he raises his hands in exclamation.

“so you’re mad again, great.” before you know it, you’re crying again.

you hold yourself tighter as tears start to fall. you feel like a little kid, just standing there helpless. the drinks are really getting you now.

hamzah is silent for a minute as you sob. he stands so close to you, but doesn’t dare move. when you finally look up at him, his gaze has softened and his hands are in his pockets. he reaches out slowly to brush your hair out of your face, looking at you like he’s waiting for protest. instead, you lean into his hand on your cheek.

he stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell how he feels. his eyes scan your features, landing on your lips, which are quivering just slightly. after a few moments of just looking at one another, he puts his arms out, offering a hug.

you fall against his chest and start sobbing all over again.

he rubs circles into your back absent-mindly, whispering little “shhs”. you don’t even thin of how angry you were today. how mean he was. you just cry and let him hold you. he pulls you two apart and goes to hold your face in his palms.

“how much did you drink,baby? " he asks, wiping a tear.

“not that much. just like, a few.”

“a few what?”

“mmm seltzers?” you say, more of a question than an answer.

he sighs.

“okay. well, i think you should go to bed, yeah?”

your eyes scan his face, searching for whatever emotion he’s hiding. surely he’s still angry. you hold onto both his arms while you speak.

“hamzah.”

“yeah?”

“i don’t like my high school boyfriend.”

“i know.”

he presses his eyes shut tight. his chest rises and falls slowly and before you can argue that he clearly doesn’t know, he speaks again.

“i was gonna apologize when you got home.”

“but now you’re mad again.” you say, pouting

“not about that. and i’m not mad, y/n, i was worried. you were gone for five hours without a text or anything.”

“m’sorry.” you mumble, pressing your head against his chest again.

“let’s go to bed, okay?”

he strokes your hair as you breath in his scent. he’s warm, and it hits you how tired you are. Ou nod softly against him and before you know it, he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed. giggling, you land with a plop. he joins you and holds you tight.

“we can talk more tomorrow, yeah. you deserve a better apology but i have a feeling you won’t remember much of it if i tell you now.”

you nod, scooting back to press your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder. you fall asleep.

-

i hope you guys enjoyed >.< requests are open

[100percentdirtball]

since i talk about work but don't actually plug my own shit: hi, i work for object lover, a trans owned and operated home decor maker focused on making objects for joyful, colorful living. if you're interested in supporting queer creators, this post is for you!

we have almost universally positive reviews, but struggle w/sales bc of low visibility. our labor is all shared, and for 3 years every employee, incl. the founder & designer ( 11 total at one time or another! ) has been paid equally.

it feels a little bit gauche, in this time of incipient genocide, to say "buy our stuff!" but even just checking out our website or reblogging this post is materially supporting trans women in central texas, & i think if you do you'll fall in love with our work. we make home goods and decor, including side tables—the first 3d printed furniture!—plant stands and planters, and jewelry trays.

here's a couple pics of my favorite items; a link'll follow in the reblogs because i think maybe we're still in the world of tumblr where links in the main post get eaten? reblog that one, please!

as a side note, we keep our prices as low as we possibly can and still keep the lights on; our margins are very low. but one of our guiding principles is that beautiful, joyous home decor shouldn't be financially out of reach, esp. to queer ppl. we run sales as often as we possibly can, but if our work is still inaccessible to you i'm happy to provide coupon codes to anyone who dms me

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OMG RAVEN YOU’RE INTO EVER AFTER HIGH? I love it but can’t talk about it bc none of my friends have seen it 😭 I wish it was talked about more, especially with how deep their lore runs. I love EAH’s dynamics with the complexities of destiny. If twst followed the same logic as eah’s world it would be so interesting. How would you feel if the worlds were to mesh together and how it would work? You can interpret that in any way you want; the characters meeting or twst being bound to the same rules and societal expectations of eah, or whatnot.

Also who’s your favorite eah character compared to your favorite twst character (Leona)?Jade, right?

And have you read the eah books? I haven’t, but I’m going to try to sometime!

Eah alt account when?

I'm still salty that the Monster High x Ever After High crossover movie never saw the light of day-- Part of the reason why I don't like Disney (I mean the faceless corpo, not all Disney products) is because they have such a strong association with fairy tales that it pushes other interpretations out of the market or it leads to people assuming Disney "owns" those fairy tales. Ever After High's lore and themes run so much deeper than most other fairy tale reimaginings I've seen (and I've seen a lot). It's such a shame it doesn't get the respect and recognition it deserves even though EAH is the one out here challenging the status quo whereas modern Disney is content with mediocrity that appeals to the masses.

I think EAH and TWST, at their cores, share similar ideas so combining them would work well. Friendship, self-identity, defining your own future, questioning what "good" and "evil" truly are... It's all there. I'd imagine that if Twisted Wonderland (or at least NRC) followed the same rules as EAH, then everyone would be descendants of their Disney counterparts. (This is actually a common misperception of what TWST was to new fans; people mistakenly believe the TWST characters are children of the classic Disney villains. This has never been canon.) Unfortunately, I'd have to take away the Disney villains being twisted to be "good" guys in Twisted Wonderland's world in order for this to work by EAH rules, so... There's that to consider. This, in turn, can result in the student body splitting into Royals (pro-following one's destiny) and Rebels (anti-following one's destiny). Perhaps RSA and NRC could be one school in this AU...? Just so we have a mix of "good" and "evil" descended children in the same vicinity as one another. A must-have are the constantly bickering Narrators!! It's only really when Yuu shows up that the majority opinion starts to shift. Maybe then Crowley becomes concerned with students rising up and fighting back against the system that relies on them being complacent to keep the cycle of stories going. I've seen some readings of EAH which theorize that Royals guaranteed a happy ending is a stand-in for privilege, and that interpretation leads into very interesting conflicts when we also consider that magic in Twisted Wonderland is a privilege afforded to few.

To cover just the dorm leaders (because covering all the TWST characters would make this post way longer), I definitely see Riddle, Kalim, Idia, and Malleus as Royals and Leona, Azul, and Vil as Rebels. Here's my thought process:

Riddle is pretty self-explanatory. He comes from a background where he's used to being told what to do by his mother and so he also heavily relies on her strict, unyielding teachings to play by the book when he goes out there in the real world. Riddle is inflexible and hesitant to go against the grain--and, more importantly, he fully believes that following the rules will lead to his happiness... that doing as his fairy tale ordains will lead to a happy ending. What happens to the Queen of Hearts is dubious in the end since it's framed as Alice's dream, so I think that vagueness gives Riddle hope that by behaving himself, he'll earn the happiness he desires.

Leona is a Rebel, and not just because that's the aesthetic of his dorm. Being that he is highly intelligent and demonstrates a lot of foresight, he'd be aware of what future is in store for him and aggressively fighting against that. It would make him more desperate than ever to prove his worth, because not only does everyone see his powers as terrifying, but they also see him as a future brother murderer and dictator that will bleed the land dry of resources. It'd make the situation with his family even more strained than it already is, not to mention the extra jealousy he must feel toward Cheka, who is still too young to understand what's going to happen later.

Azul is someone who acts like a Royal but is actually a Rebel. He acts polite and like he plays by the rules, but clearly he doesn't behind the scenes. I see Azul as the kind of Rebel akin to Duchess Swan... as in, he believes he can steal away someone else's destiny for himself. Azul would constantly be looking for loopholes to save himself. He's put way too much stock into becoming a better, stronger person and he'd want to defend this new life he has made for himself. His obsession with protecting his contracts could translate well here.

Kalim is a Royal because he's mega rich and has been sheltered from the concept of bad things that happen to normal people; he has nothing to worry about. It also helps that Kalim is twisted from a character that doesn't meet a bad ending. I think he'd be aware of Jami's doomed destiny, but Kalim is so ignorant that he thinks it'll just be fine and it'll work itself out. Part of his growth could be being forced to reckon with the reality that Jamil is suffering under the legacy assigned to him and accepting the role that he plays in that by not acting.

Idia is a Royal--or at least pre-book 6 Idia is. He's a very pessimistic guy and repeatedly expresses hopelessness about the future, bemoaning the curse he and his family have to bear. Idia doesn't want to try to fight his fate, he's already accepted that it will happen and so closes himself off from others to save himself that heartbreak. Post-book 6 Idia will have swapped over to the Rebel side thanks to Ortho reviving the hope in him.

Vil is a Rebel simply for the fact that he fights social conventions. He's already out here shattering gender roles, but finds it much harder to breach that expectation that villains are just villains and nothing more. Vil keeps getting rejected at every turn, told that it's impossible to rewrite his story, that his frustrations are the natural result of jealousy and an ugly heart that festers in side of him. He steels himself to prove that notion wrong, working himself to the bone to get up on that stage and stay on it, waiting to be lavished with praise that he truly is the fairest one of all. I feel this would be so fascinating for Vil's own arc about self acceptance; maybe he wears himself down emotionally because he HAS to basically be perfect due to his job but also denies himself normal feelings like anger and jealousy because confessing that you have such "ugly" feelings only validates that you're shallow just like the stories say you will be.

Malleus is a tough one, but I settled for Royal in the end. Maleficent is doomed to be slain by a sword, right? So am I saying that THE Malleus Draconia, who is infamously arrogant about his magical abilities, would lie down and take a stab like that? Of course not! However, I do think that Malleus is initially someone who values tradition and living up to noblesse oblige. As the future ruler of a nation, people's stories are relying on him to play his expected role out, which he'd be fully cognizant of. I also think Malleus would be afforded the luxury of not having to face his destiny as soon as his peers are due to his long life span. This is in part because the person destined to slay him doesn't come into his life for literally hundreds of years. Then when book 7 arrives, Malleus has to deal with his loved ones leaving and/or betraying him as well as the realization that this is his destiny: dying alone and unloved. That'd just break him.

ahdbiqwdbqwli I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS AU FOR FOREVER BUT I'LL CUT IT SHORT OR ELSE I'LL NEVER SHUT UP 😭

EAH has so many good characters and interesting storylines, it's hard for me to pick a favorite! I of course love Apple and Raven's dilemmas, but I feel like it's cheating to pick one of them as my favorite. The whole Wonderland gang is also fantastic... I'm a sucker for their aesthetic, but they're so fun and silly in general. Kitty, Lizzie, and especially Madeline are 👌

Mmm, when I think long and hard about it, I think my favorite EAH character has to be Briar Beauty, daughter of Sleeping Beauty. Firstly, I love all the pink, roses, and bramble in her design. Secondly, I love the layers to why she is the way she is. Briar's a party girl not because "lmao, wouldn't that be a funny haha subversion of Sleeping Beauty" but because she wants to live life up before she falls asleep for 100 years and literally loses all her friends and family to the natural passage of time. That's seriously so smart and such an inventive way to think about the trauma a descendant of Sleeping Beauty might have. Seeing Briar transition from one of Apple's besties and biggest supporters to an outright rebel is satisfying as heck. (Gotta take a moment to shout out this classic moment :3)

I don't know if I would compare Briar to Jade since they're entirely different characters. However, looking at the source material, I'm actually surprised I like Briar as much as I do since I have never cared for the story of Sleeping Beauty. A part of me finds this ironic since Malleus harbors a similar fear as Briar (losing loved ones) yet I see Malleus's desire as way more selfish and self-serving than Briar's. I believe that's because Briar doesn't have the same arrogance as Malleus, so I'm more forgiving with her. EAH's actual equivalent to Malleus is Faybelle, daughter of the Dark Fairy, but I don't like her as much as I do Briar (hence why I'm comparing Malleus and Briar, not Malleus and Faybelle).

I haven't read the EAH books but I want to one day! I'd prefer to borrow them since I don't have enough space in my room for more physical books, so as soon as I find copies at a library or something...

This blog has kind of become a place where I occasionally talk about my other interests, generally as it relates to TWST, my main interest. I'd like to keep it like this since managing multiple blogs can be so draining. It already takes quite a bit of time to regularly write responses to asks just on one blog!

[auckie]

I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

umm how dark are u willing to go? I'm thinking abt turning to a life of prostitution and the ghoul being your first ever client and he's not very gentle about it, (plus you're scared bc he's a ghoul ffs) in fact he's very smug bc he's the first client, probably buys you for the night :) mwah xoxo

Working Girl

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Sex Worker Female Reader

Word Count: 5,411

Warnings: smut (18+), sex for pay, rough sex, knife play, cannibalistic threats (he's joking...kinda), spitting, hair pulling, humiliation, rope play, dacryphilia, face and throat fucking, cum facial, some dubcon elements, soft-ish ending (I cannot help myself).

Notes: My answer to that question is "darker than this", anon. I suppose I should probably put together some sort of "wills-and-wonts" pinned post, though, honestly, there aren't many of the latter. With smut and romance content, I think it's important to keep an open mind and broaden your horizons. We are cool with sex work and sex workers in this house, by the way.

I had to let this one stew a bit to decide what direction I wanted to go with it. I'm obsessed with the idea of Cooper menacing around in New Vegas, so I hope you're alright with that. I am also obsessed with the outfits the sex workers outside the casinos wear. I went a little crazy with the length on this one, but I'm super happy with how it turned out. Hope you like it! XOXO

The uniform you'd been given for your new job was absolutely humiliating.

Sure, you looked...nice. They'd fed you, for once you'd had plenty of water, got the first chance to bathe that you'd had in weeks, maybe months. You'd even been able to wash your hair, a rare, rare thing that still had you trying to smell the silky strands as they blew by your face. Initially, you'd felt quite confident, actually; the cropped top even had sleeves, the tight black skirt and heels making your legs look quite nice, even if they were uncomfortable to walk and stand in.

However, your confidence had diminished a bit when they'd given you the black leather collar to wear around your neck, reducing to basically zero when you actually stepped outside to begin your work.

Okay, you had technically done this before, traded sex for medicine or repair work or a place to stay. Honestly, at this point, you thought you'd had more sex for trade than sex for pleasure, the latter hard to come by for someone as picky about actual dating as you. But it felt like one thing to have someone offer it in the moment, when you were truly desperate and a spur-of-the-moment decision was distastefully easy to make. This, standing along the New Vegas Strip and advertising yourself for it, felt like another. A late evening breeze blew across the road, stirring up some dust and making you shiver.

If you were honest with yourself, you got off easy. You weren't sure what the guys and girls with the chains around their bodies and their nipples exposed had done, right or wrong, to earn that uniform, but you weren't eager to find out.

There was a man across the way, leaning against the wall in the shadows outside the tram station, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his hand. You couldn't see his face, obscured by a dingy, wide-brimmed cowboy hat, his figure hidden as well by a long, dark duster that was incredibly ratty at the ends. He'd been there a while; you weren't sure how long, but you were fairly certain he'd been checking you out. His smokes were lasting an awfully long time.

You'd been told that oftentimes johns were too nervous to initiate the transaction themselves, that you needed to be fun and flirty and try to hook them in yourself if you wanted any business. It didn't help that you, too, were nervous to initiate, but you wanted this to work out, at least for now, and no one else had been interested so far.

"Hey there, handsome. Are you looking to party?" you called out to him, waving as playfully as possible.

That got him, the burning red cherry at the end of his smoke glowing brightly for a few seconds before he tossed it to the ground, exhaling a big cloud of smoke as he stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.

"Handsome, huh? It's been a hot, hot minute since anyone called me that, darlin'." he drawled, his voice actually quite nice. His footsteps gave off a funny little jingle you couldn't place, and you calmly took him in as he approached. But then he came close enough that you could see his face, see the pits and the sunken eye sockets and the gaping hole in the middle of his face where a nose was supposed to be.

A ghoul. Holy shit, he was a ghoul.

Now, you didn't have anything against ghouls, per se, not like some people certainly seemed to. You didn't like the idea of anyone being barred from towns and outposts or harassed just because of what they were, to no fault of their own. You still gave pause at the idea of sleeping with one. Couldn't it make you sick? Didn't some ghouls eat people? Or was that just the feral ones? No, that was stupid. There were people who ate people in this world. Of course a ghoul could possibly eat you.

"Busy the rest of the night?" he asked as if it were automatically the response he'd receive.

You tried your best to giggle playfully, desperate to no longer have to stand outside and solicit for a while, even if it meant your first trick was a doozy.

"Not if you've got the caps." you replied, clenching your shaking hands behind your back.

"Oh, I've got 'em, sweetheart. So." he asked, looking you blatantly up and down. "Are we gonna party or what?"

The two of you made your way into the casino, the bright lights throwing intriguing shadows across your new friend's gaunt face. You left him at the front desk and told him where could meet you after he relinquished all of his weapons, including the big gun strapped to his back. You'd be happy to see that go.

After you left him, you went to the back to check in and described the john you were going back with. When you said he was a ghoul, you expected some sort of reaction or concern, but all the older woman behind the counter did was produce a Rad-X from a half-empty bottle and push it across the counter at you along with a room key.

"Room three. He paid for the night." she said flatly, barely looking your way. "You're gonna wanna take that now, not later."

You picked it up and turned to walk towards the back rooms where the dates happened. You were a little floored he'd paid for that much time; you'd been anticipating an hour, maybe two. But all night? Did turning into a ghoul give you some sort of super stamina? Or did he have other plans for you?

As you passed by the doorway to the gambling floor, you could see him still standing at the counter emptying his pockets.

Just how many weapons did one person need?

Hesitating a moment, you waited to catch his eye, holding up your hand and flashing him three fingers. He gave you a slight nod, and you continued on, unlocking the third door down the adjacent, isolated hall. The rooms weren't much but the basics; a dingy but functional bed, a chair and side table with a jug of water and a few glasses in the corner. A lamp with a stained shade. A clock to keep track of the time. That was about it. You poured yourself a small glass of water from the jug and swallowed the Rad-X down, a bitter taste coating the inside of your mouth. Pulling a face, you took a fidgety seat at the foot of the bed to wait for your companion for the night to arrive, leaving your uncomfortable heels on.

Don't take off the shoes before the john gets in there, you'd been told. Some guys like to take everything off themselves.

You were pulled from your ruminations by the sound of the door creaking open, making you startle ever-so-slightly as he entered.

The people at the front desk had almost certainly offered to take his hat and coat, but it seemed he had declined. Maybe he had some particular personal attachment to them, you thought as he shucked the dirty duster, hanging it by the door. The hat remained on as he turned and appraised you, sitting straight on the bed, your hands daintily in your lap. He still wore a few layers, but you took comfort in knowing that he'd had his pockets emptied. They'd let him keep the lasso he'd been wearing, though, and you eyed it cautiously as it hung from his hip.

The ghoul didn't say anything to you as he crossed the room, pouring himself a tall glass of water and sitting in the chair, drinking it down as he stared at you. That sent you squirming ever so slightly, uncertain of how you were supposed to react.

"So, how long have you been in town?" you asked, eager to fill the silence. He didn't answer for an unsettlingly long time, finishing the first glass of water and pouring another.

"Long enough. Just blowing through." he replied, brim over his eyes and glass over his mouth.

"Ah." you responded, unsure what else to say to that. Things were quiet again for a long time, several minutes passing as you watched him dig an inhaler out of his pocket and take a long drag. You weren't sure what it was; you'd recognize a Jet container. Lots of people used it.

"I was surprised you wanted me for the whole night." you confessed.

"That right?" he responded. "Not in this line of work long, eh?"

"Oh. Uh, I guess." you replied, taken aback by that. "It's just that all night's a long time."

You were trying to make your voice as sweet and seductive as possible, despite the tingle of worry creeping up your spine.

"It sure is." he replied, a glint in his eye that you couldn't read. It frightened you a little, but you told yourself you were overreacting. Another few minutes passed by, another puff of the inhaler, before he raised his hand, still wearing those thick gloves, and beckoned you over. You stood, somewhat shakily walked over to stand in front of him as he sat reclined in the chair, and waited for him to direct you.

"Alright," he said, voice calm as ever as he suddenly produced a long, slender blade from...somewhere. "let's get that outfit off."

This, of course, sent you screaming, turning quickly to flee towards the door. However, he quickly appeared behind you, a hand moving to cover your mouth with one of those filthy gloves as he yanked you back into his chest, making you stumble in those awful shoes. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you.

"Jesus Christ." he said, mild annoyance in his tone as he held you almost effortlessly with the one arm. "If you're already screamin' like this when we ain't even had any fun, maybe you ain't cut out for this, baby doll. Never seen a knife before?"

Your hollering choked down into a little cry as the strange-smelling glove muffled you, as you took in what he said. You desperately didn't want to fuck up this job on your literal first night, didn't want to lose a chance to have some stability, a roof over your head. But you couldn't stop the way your brain screamed at you to run. He brought the blade back up to your eye level, turning it to and fro, as if to show it off to you, the small silver blade glinting dangerously in the lamplight.

"You aren't supposed to have that." you whimpered between his fingers, trembling.

"Lotsa people do things they aren't supposed to in this world." was his reply as he slid the blade directly between your breasts, slicing through the crop top from hem to collar. You swore you felt the blade swipe your skin, and it made you gasp in fear, but when you looked, the skin was untouched.

His hands made quick work of the button and zipper of your skirt, dropping it around you feet and leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear and your uncomfortable shoes, your heart clamoring in your rib cage.

Looking you up and down once more, he stepped back and took in the whole scene before slinking back down into the chair in the corner, his hands moving down to undo his own belt and fly. He paused, however, to invite you forward again, urging you to close the few foot distance between you. You moved as instructed, still shaken as you stood a foot or so in front of him.

"Kneel."

Carefully, you lowered yourself down onto the scuffed old floor, cool against your bare knees as you looked up at him.

From this angle, it was much easier to see his whole face, including his eyes, and they were gorgeous. You hadn't noticed before, between the nerves and the hat, that they were like pools of dark honey. They distracted you so much that you missed him actually tugging his cock free. When you looked down at it, you were pleasantly surprised at how normal it looked, save for the radiation-roughened texture of the skin. Save for that, all the normal parts were there in normal quantities. You let out a very soft sigh of relief.

"Well, go on." he said, brandishing the thing at you like a weapon. "If you're gonna be a whore, you gotta act like one."

You could feel yourself pouting at his statement, and you hated it, hated the way his words rang through your brain, but you felt some ease at finally getting into something you had experience with, at least. Promptly crawling forward the last foot or so, you let yourself sit a tad more comfortably, leaning forward and reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

"Uh-uh." he corrected, stopping you in your tracks. "If you're any good at it, you shouldn't need your hands."

This gave you some pause, scanning him over as your palms came to rest on the bit of exposed chair between his legs. Slowly, you leaned forward and dragged your tongue along the underside of his erection, sending it twitching at the contact. The man sitting before you hummed in approval, fully reclining against the back of the chair to watch you closely as you cocked your head somewhat awkwardly to allow your lips to wrap around the tip. He tasted differently than you were accustomed to, you thought as you began to let your head bob up and down on the first few inches of him, your tongue running along the leaking slit; there was an almost metallic aftertaste to him, like licking a cap.

"There you go." he praised lowly as you slid down to take as much of him as you comfortably could, his right hand coming to softly fist in your hair. The movement made you vaguely suspicious, and rightly so, as a few moments later, his other hand joined the first, and together they held your head in place, his hips pistoning up to fuck your face. You tolerated it well, only gagging at the last few thrusts when it seemed he was trying to push deeper and deeper. When you did, the sensation made him pull your head back, his saliva-coated cock laying against his leather-clad stomach as he appraised you, his eyes largely obscured again, drool all over your lips and chin.

"Let's move over to the bed, shall we?" he said, already standing by the time he finished.

Awkwardly, you attempted to right yourself out of your kneeling posture, but before you could even try, he stooped and grabbed you around the waist, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing. He was so strong and it made you blush as an indignant sound left you.

"Hey!" you let out before you could stop yourself. You weren't supposed to complain, but it felt like he was almost antagonizing you.

"Allow me." he replied, shooting you a look over his shoulder.

He dropped you down back onto the foot of the bed rather unceremoniously, your hair falling in your face and eyes; when you moved it away again, the switchblade was back in his hand, and you screamed again, unable to stop yourself.

"Keep it comin', sweetheart. I doubt anyone's rushing in here to help you. Honestly, I think they'd respond quicker if you quit screamin' for too long." he said, mocking.

"Quit scaring me and I'll quit screaming!" you shot back, righting yourself so that you were at least properly sitting upright.

"Boy, you sure do love to run that filthy little cocksucking mouth of yours, don'tcha?" he sneered, grabbing your hair again and yanking you close. "Pretty sure I'm payin' you to put out, not to bitch."

The blade traced back down your cleavage to dig into the waistband of your black bra, quickly slicing through it as well and sending your breasts popping out, the now damaged garment hanging uselessly from your arms. The ghoul insistently urged you down onto your back by your hair, and you followed, your legs dangling over the foot of the bed past your knee. For a moment, he simply looked at you.

"Open your mouth." he demanded, leaning over you.

You did as you were told, the command not unusual, but then he puckered his lips and let a rather large gob of spit fall onto your tongue, sending you gagging and scrambling to sit up.

"Nope. Swallow it." he said, maintaining that painful grip against your scalp, keeping you on your back. "You need to remember where your place is right about now, girlie."

Incensed, you hesitated a moment before forcing yourself to do as he told you. Your face was burning bright red with humiliation. He was still leaning over you, bringing the sharp edge close to your skin again. You steeled yourself, calling his bluff despite how dangerous that felt, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, challenging him as he traced the point across your flesh.

"Such pretty, smooth skin." he muttered, watching your reaction closely. "Looks good enough to slice a piece off and eat..."

As he spoke, he let the sharpened edge dig fully into the side of your breast, and you let out a whimper, your stomach rolling at the feeling, at his words. You were certain he was about to really hurt you.

However, he stopped after a moment, pulling the thing away to reveal nothing more than a thin red dash the length of the blade. A kitten scratch. A joke. You looked to him rather incredulously, and he rolled his eyes, folding the edge back into its handle, showing you that it was fully closed before tossing it across the room, landing with a thud in the chair.

"Since you're so afraid of it." he taunted, putting his hands on your hips to flip you onto your stomach. "Hands and knees. Face down."

A frustrated huff escaped you at this newest little jape as you pulled yourself up into the proper position, watching him out of the corner of your eye, your face buried in the musty mattress. It was hard to focus your vision like this, but you watched him move up towards the head of the bed until you couldn't see him anymore. There was a sound you couldn't put your finger on, quick and quiet, but by the time you could even hazard a guess at what it was, he'd seized your right arm by the wrist and was wrapping the rope he'd been carrying around it, finishing it off with a knot. This was enough for you to risk a quick glimpse in his direction, only to see that he'd used the lasso to tie your arm to the head of the bed. Your heart raced as he gave the knot at the headboard a yank before disappearing behind you, tugging your collar loose and dropping it on the floor.

He left the heels on.

"It's funny that these fancy casinos think all these dirtbags and desert rats'll come in here and just give up every weapon they have willingly. That's not how things work out there, and it's still not how they work in here, no matter how much they pretend it is." he mused, his voice making it seem almost as if he were talking to himself and not you. His still-gloved hand petted at the round globe of your ass.

Now you were annoyed. Why was he fucking with you like this?

"Are you a dirtbag or a desert rat?" you muttered into the sheets, jumping when he suddenly grabbed you by your hair again in response, holding you tight in his grip as he forced you to look at him.

"I'm the first thing, darlin'. It'll be good for you to learn the difference." he said, actually smirking at you, at the pained look on your face as the feeling once more burned in your scalp, one of his hands slowly moving up the back of your thigh to stroke your mound over your underwear. Quickly, he pushed them aside, his longest finger tracing up and down your embarrassingly wet slit, and you bit your lips hard to muffle the moan you wanted to let out.

Soon, he was working that finger inside you, then another, and another, all in quick succession; this wasn't about making you feel good, it was about making sure you could take him properly. You could feel the head of his cock nudging against your bare ass cheek, leaking and throbbing. He was eager, no matter how cool and calm he seemed to be.

"Spread your legs more." he mumbled, knee pushing at your right leg to "help" you open yourself wider for him. You did as much as possible, feeling like you could fall at any moment. However, you tensed again when you felt the tip of him slip through your folds, collecting some of the wetness there before sliding down to press at your entrance. You held your breath.

It burned when he pushed inside, though whether that was because of the rough texture of his skin or because you weren't completely prepared, you didn't know. He didn't give you much time to adjust to his size, simply bracing one knee against the mattress as he began to fuck you. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, his blunt cock head slamming painfully against your cervix.

At one point, he shifted himself higher over you, seeking a way to be deeper inside. The change in angle caused the slick head of his cock to slip out of you for a moment, pressing against your taut asshole for just a split second, but it was enough to make you panic, squirming wildly beneath him. Pure fear shot up your spine. He only laughed sardonically, tugging your hair to make you look over your shoulder at him.

"You're lucky I ain't real mean, sweetheart." he murmured, slamming his cock back into your leaking, sore cunt. The way it hit hard against your already tender cervix made you whimper, but you were glad he didn't do what you'd thought he was gonna do. It was upsetting you that you weren't more upset, frankly. The whole thing made you wanna be sick, especially the part where you were insanely close to orgasm suddenly.

"The funniest part of all this is that you're still gettin' off on it." he called you out as if he could read your mind.

You desperately shook your head, silent tears beginning to run down your cheeks and tickle onto your chin. You weren't enjoying this, weren't enjoying the rough way he was using you. You certainly weren't enjoying those strangely captivating eyes pinning you as he held you down.

"Please." he scolded. "It's one thing to be a whore. It's another thing to be a liar."

That actually managed to draw an embarrassing little sniffle from you; not his taunts, but the fact that you were fluttering so enthusiastically around him at his words. The man on top of you tilted his head again at this, watching you teeter on the edge of something terribly amazing.

"Poor pretty thing." he cooed with fake sympathy, rubbing away an errant tear with his thumb. Your neck ached at the angle he was holding it at. "Open."

You obeyed, and he spat in your mouth again. It actually didn't have much taste, and you swallowed with no complaint, your brain foggy from the rough way he was fucking you. The feeling of humiliation was still there, creeping hot up your back, but it also made you clench hard around him.

"Fuck." he snarled, suddenly pulling back from you, standing beside the bed again, one hand jerking himself as he grabbed you up onto your knees once more, his fist in your hair as he rubbed and slapped his throbbing cock against your face.

"Open your fuckin' mouth." he growled, pushing himself as far back down your throat as he could go as soon as you did, both hands cupping the back of your head as he skull-fucked you with wild abandon. Your hands braced on his hips, your efforts to blunt his thrusts futile. You gagged and choked and drooled as he used your throat; embarrassingly, one of your hands appeared on your swollen, aching clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he began to throb.

"Shit, girlie, you're gonna make me cum." he panted, pulling himself back from you, leaving you sputtering for air as he resumed rubbing his cockhead on your lips and cheeks. His eyes were burning into yours. "Better keep your mouth closed."

You clenched your lips between your teeth just as the first jet of his release hit your cheek, much thicker and hotter than you'd anticipated, another and then another, seemingly an endless amount covering your entire lower face, dribbling from your lips and chin as he groaned and growled his way through it. Your hand was still rubbing furiously between your legs, and he must've noticed, slipping his fingers down in place of yours and rubbing those same circles, his rough touch just what you needed to fall over the edge as well, moaning loudly as your whole body seized.

Everything was eerily quiet and calm as you both let your breathing settle, one hand supporting his weight against the wall by the head of the bed for a moment, his eyes hidden by the hat once more. Surprisingly, he undid the knot at the headboard, then the one around your wrist, tossing the rope down onto the floor next to the bed as he went rummaging around in his pockets. You noticed that he was tucked back away into his pants. Suddenly, a dingy handkerchief was pressed into your palm; it took you a moment to realize that he intended for you to clean the mess from your face with it.

You set to it, the incredibly thick, almost gelatinous substance difficult to wipe away with the thin square of cloth, but you managed to make it happen. Mostly. As you tidied yourself, he pulled the inhaler from one pocket and a rumpled pack of cigarettes from another, taking a puff and jamming a cig between his thin, cracked lips. He paused to hold the pack out to you, and you shook your head.

"You can take a break, kid. We've got all night." he said, lighting the smoke and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You supposed he was right; you were absolutely exhausted physically after that whole ordeal, and it was his time. If he was alright with you resting some, you'd rest some. Carefully, you crawled up and laid your head on one of the pillows, your side against his back as he sat there, smoking and righting his clothes. In the back of your head, a little bug nagged at you.

"How did you know?" you asked, voice almost timid.

"Hmm?" he replied, his focus seemingly on re-winding the lasso.

"How did you know that, uh, tonight's my first night on the job?"

This got him to turn to you, a mischievous, but not unkind gleam in his gaze.

"I watched you for a while. Just got off the tram when you came outside, wanted a smoke. Noticed you. Couldn't not notice you. You looked like a nervous little bunny out there, just waitin' for a hawk to come and snatch you up."

"So you decided to be the hawk?"

"Yep."

You were both quiet again at this, the perfectly coiled rope now sitting near your feet. Outside, you could hear the clinking of glasses, the drunken laughter of gamblers and bar patrons. Your eyelids were so heavy.

You'd sort of assumed that you would want to cry yourself to sleep after what you'd been through, between the roller coaster of emotions and the general humiliation of it all; oddly enough, you didn't. Instead, you drifted off into a brief, fitful rest, dreaming of disgusting leather gloves and radiation-pillaged skin.

-

The Strip at twilight was quite the sight, the neon and bright colors washed mute by the early morning hues. It would be nice to stop and admire if you weren't so desperate to get out of town.

As much as you were loathe to admit it, the ghoul you'd been with the night before was right; you absolutely weren't cut out for this. You'd hated every single second of trying to entice people to pay you for sex, the way people had looked and leered at you as they'd gone by. Besides, your employers gave you the impression that they didn't have your best interest at heart. They also gave you the creeps.

And if anyone in the future wanted to go further than he had, you now knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't learned some things about yourself.

An unidentifiable feeling passed over you as you thought of him.

You'd awoken, shocked you'd managed to sleep at all, with quite the start, eyes frantically jumping to the clock to find that only about half an hour had passed. To your genuine surprise, the ghoul was gone, several hours still left in the time he'd paid for. The jug of water on the table was empty. You'd waited dutifully, naked on the bed, for the remainder of his time slot. You'd even kept the heels on. At first, you'd wondered if he'd maybe gone to the bar for a drink. But after another hour passed, you were fairly certain he wasn't coming back. Despite yourself, you were strangely disappointed.

At the end of his paid time, the end of your shift, you checked back in at the desk, collected your pay, and immediately went upstairs to collect your things.

Your meager possessions were few enough to fit into a little drawstring; you'd cast a quick glimpse at the destroyed shirt the man had cut off of you, crumpled on the floor with the rest of your uniform after you'd changed back into your dingy street clothes, before tucking it away into the bag. You weren't sure why. After that, you'd tucked the bag up inside your jacket, calmly walked outside for a "smoke", and kept walking until you made it outside the walls of Freeside, feeling like there were eyes on you the whole way. It was only once you were past the border of the junk fences that you allowed yourself to pause and take a shaky breath.

"You made the right choice." came a familiar drawl from behind you.

The voice startled you, already on edge as you worried about being followed from the casino, sending you freezing in the middle of the decaying road. Through the dusty haze, you could make out his hat and coat, emerging from behind a barricade of concrete, smoke in hand. The big gun was back in its place, slung loosely across his broad shoulders.

"You scared me." you hissed, your hand resting on your flying heart.

He tilted his head at you, those hauntingly beautiful eyes scanning you. He gave a shrug, which was very apparently not an apology.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"I dunno." you confessed flatly, trying your best to not fidget in place. "Not here."

He took a long, long drag off of his smoke before dropping it into the dirt, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot before looking up at you underneath the brim of that accursed hat. Everything felt very familiar, all of the sudden. Another transaction waiting to happen.

"Quite the coincidence. I'm also headed 'not here'." he replied, quietly assessing you as he leaned against the barricade, lighting another cig.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, considering some things. But eventually, you replied, tone teasing:

"Looking for some company, are you?"

He smirked at you, smoldering cigarette hanging loosely between those vicious teeth.

"Sure am. Interested?"

You crossed the rest of the way over to him, standing close. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you once more.

"If you've got the caps, handsome."

[adamsrcnan]

OKAY OKAY here we goooo an annoyingly long-ish post about all my thoughts on The Sunshine Court

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilersss you've been warned

First things first it is so interesting to see Nora writing from not one but TWO new people's perspective. Jean's perspective is just devastating being inside his head is heartbreaking the constant fear and panic and how much of his energy is used on just pushing down every memory of what was done to him. His coping mechanisms are terrifying and i truly do hope by the end of book 2 he has a healthier way of dealing with it bc baby boy stop hurting yourself :( Every sentence was so painful to read. But also his resilience the entire time to get through it no matter what, god i fucking love him!!! He is a fighter.

Jeremy's perspective is sooooo refreshing. He is such a little sweetheart i could cry. The fact that he sends hand written letters and he's so caring and genuine but he can also be so stern. When he dropped that "i asked you a question" to Lucas fkehdjdfjdh OK SIR. I'M SAT. His relationship with the family butler is so endearing as well i need more background on that for sure! My only one criticism is that he didn't have enough pov chapters and i'm hoping we'll learn more in the second book of course because there's still so much about him and his (dysfunctional? toxic?) family dynamic that we don't know yet but also i'm greedy and i wanna know EVEYTHING about him !!!

Kevin and Jean are so just tragic it actually breaks my fucking heart like "you didn't have to slit my throat on the way out" JEAN??? and "promise me you won't try again. I can't lose you." KEVIN??? And the fact that Jean to this day is still keeping that promise. Also Jean's obvious but secret long term crush on Kevin the way it's subtly dropped every time Jean has to stamp down on his desire's and "temptations" GOD PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT

SPEAKING OF!!! BISEXUAL JEAN ??? BI JEAN??? BI JEANNNN !!!!

Neil and Jean oh my God like where do i even start?? The guilt Jean feels at what happened to Neil in the Nest and him finally calling him by his name after Riko's death and telling him his game was good. And Neil seriously needs to give himself more credit for how much of a caring person he is because the way he indirectly told Jean that he thinks he is worth saving and didn't even hesitate before asking Stuart to send someone after That Guy after what Jean told him. Neil Josten the man that you are!!!

Jean's little sister Elodie what a beautiful name. Them being so close and him reading to her. The way he found out about her death jolted me differently. It was so awful and i'm so sorry Jean didn't get to see her grow up and meet her again.

Renee and Jean oh my god. Jean thinking she's beautiful (bitch me toooo) And the whole right person wrong time ugh i can't stand it. Him wearing her necklace all the time, enough that Jeremy always notices it. And unabashedly stealing her picture from the foxes lounge. Like he did not give a fuck. He said this one is mine. One good reason to stay alive being rainbows i'm gonna FKSJSKDHDH. Theirs would be such a soft love.

Speaking of soft loves Laila and Cat are EVERYTHINGGGG. God they are so cute with their little domestic life and their rich gay boy son who crashes on their couch with his cardboard cut out dog. That whole friendship dynamic is beautiful. Their fierce protectiveness and care over Jean as well and the patience they have with him even after the little kitchen incident. When Cat took Jean out for a drive on her motorcycle god that was such a heart warming moment and Jean helping them cook as well and becoming the girls' little sous chef it's so cute so endearing !!!

FINALLY FINALLY THE JEREJEAN DYNAMIC

PLEASE I'M GONNA SCREAM

Jeremy being the one who told Jean that Riko was dead i don't even know what to begin with THAT like hhhhhhh. The way they're both stupidly attracted to each other but won't/can't do anything about it. THE WHOLE "say yes Jeremy" SCENE WTF WAS THATTT I WAS GOING INSANEEEE. Both of them having to stop mid sentence when they catch the other looking FINE as hell. Jean being so obvious that even Lucas picks up on the way he looks at Jeremy. Jeremy being there to ground Jean in a Moment and helping him come down from it. Grabbing his face and telling him he's okay. Moving into the room with him to make him feel more comfortable !! The way Jean grabs Jeremy's chin (boiiiii). Jeremy constantly reminding Jean that he is NOT A RAVEN ANYMORE no matter how many times he has to say it. Jeremy saying he'll wait as long as it takes until Jean speaks to him. JEREMY GIVING HIM A HUG AND JEAN CLUTCHING DESPERATELY TO HIS SHIRT FUUCUFHDHSJHSSUHDH and then the "will you help me?" And the "Anything you need" AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE A CERAMICS CLASS TOGETHER?!?!?!!!! i can't i can't i can't i caaan'ttt

There's so much more to say but i'm gonna leave it at this for now because i need to go re-read it again and take my time with it this time round but i really could not have asked for anything better Nora truly outdid herself here !!! I'm forever grateful she blessed us with this after so long.

[axellis]

good morning im politely requesting people look at my post abt how the ancients see each other

under the cut some closeups + a ton of additional thoughts

hollyberry + golden cheese are also part of the crew of 'thinking pv is a bit naive', but he's also the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and incredibly empathetic and thats something they both respect a whole lot .

dark cacao on the flipside can see how much of a mental toll being empathetic can be

white lily seems to have the most "whole" thought of pv - which would make sense, she's been with him the longest and has seen every facet that is pv. but even still her worries that he's too trusting of her are eating away at her thoughts- as such a pv shapeshifter made of her subconscious Would be way more naive .

in my head white lily's pv would be the last shapeshifter and in order to tell the difference between them white lily would ask if he ever doubted her . the real pv would say that he definitely struggled and had been lost and confused- but ultimately trusts her above all else . vs the shapeshifter who would just say "no I'd never doubt you" .

i didnt have room for it but i think dark cacao also recognizes hollyberrys seriousness . if you get drunk with someone enough times you'll start to piece together the really vulnerable moments you had with eachother . i think hollyberry and dark cacao have the closest relationship and im not saying this because im in love with both of them

golden cheese has a bit of a recollection issue and you can see that with hollyberry + cacao the most. golden cheese reminisces a Lot and that affects how she remembers the othera . hollyberrys is a bit of a trickier thing but in this instance golden cheese doesnt remember the braids. she knows hollyberry has a different outfit than before but doesn't pay it much mind

you might have noticed the pattern at this point of pure vanilla having a bit of a cutesy interpretation of all the ancients. he loves his friends so much that he has a bit of a harder time being critical of them. he thinks dark cacaos seriousness/grumpiness is endearing. to be honest its partly an inverse of shadow milks interpretation of the ancients (simple and positive vs simple and negative) but that wasnt entirely intentional. just interesting to notate now that im thinking of it

hollyberrys dark cacao is a bit of an inverse also to what i was talking about with dark cacaos hollyberry . shes seen the sweeter more heartfelt side of dark cacao and that shines through to her

if it wasnt for the outfit + hair, golden cheese's dark cacao would have probably been the last shape shifter standing

and i will stand by the dragon cacao headcanon till the day i die

golden cheese's was fun to think about bc of the little details that are different between the different shapeshifters- specifically in the neck area (bc thays the only portion you guys get to see) . dark cacaos is a bit more of a hanbok style, white lily has a turtleneck thing kind of happening, etc etc. i think pure vanilla has the most accurate idea of what she looks like .

i think white lilys interestingly enough would be the last one standing because i honestly dont think her golden cheese would even be talking with her :(( so we'd only really find out the difference when white lily's gc is forced to talk to her . white lily thinks that gc hates her and wants her gone but golden cheese's feelings are wayy wayyy more complicated. golden cheese doesn't want white lily gone she Is glad that she's back but its also hard. everything she loves is gone right now . but she's going to find a way to get it back- and if white lily can help than maybe that'll rekindle their relationship.

the cuteification beam still reaches for white lily despite how much pv knows her . i doubt this would help with white lilys feelings that pv is being naive bc shes looking at a shapeshifter based off of pvs subconscious and that subconscious is showing so mucy nostalgia it probably hurts

hollyberry in the past probably really babied white lily + pure vanilla because she Knows theyre not eating . shes observant as hell and will always demand they have at least one bite of something in order to figure out if they're Really "not hungry".

the last one would probably land on golden cheese's bc again . her feelings are complicated and as such her subconscious would showcase that multifaceted issue of "knowing this is your friend and also knowing your friend is responsible for your kingdoms destruction".